#i mean i got most part right like the intensity of the colors & how/if it get passed down to bitten ppl & all

[spookberry]

i know this pic is pretty old and canon may have changed since then but do you have a more hd version of the lineup of the color guardian generations over the years? its from 2022 on your deviantart but dA compressed it! id love to hear about the older teams, like anita's first squad

You mean this thing??

Honestly the other teams aren't super relevant outside of a few characters and I like the idea of leaving it vague enough that there could've been even more guardians embetween the ones here.

But yeah I can tell you a little about everyone!

-Anita was one of if not the first Color Guardians. She was actually very close to her Green specifically. They were Best Friends even before becoming Color Guardians(this leads to conflicts with Rin later because Anita tends to compare the two). Their group wasn't around for very long, no one knew the stakes or how serious everything was back then... That is until one colorless attack that ended with Robin dead and Anita having disappeared with a spark of light. Robin was cheerful and kind. Seeing him die left a bad mark on his teammates that they haven't let go of to this day.

-because of her disappearance Anita was assumed dead too. Both by Layla, the police and even her own family. Octavia showed up on the scene shortly afterwards. She never knew Robin or Anita, but Layla's trauma and the fact that it was just them two for the longest time left a deep impact on Octavia.

-Even after Octavia outgrew her role as Blue, she still worried for the next generation. She made a point to track down the next Blue to as soon as she could in order to teach him everything she knew. She's an adult now and teaches self defense classes to the general public, but also special classes for Guardians specifically. All the Blues have met her, and Chiyo even introduced her to Kimi so Kimi could get better at fighting. Layla wants nothing to do with the newer guardians, so Octavia avoids bringing them up, but the two do check in with one another still.

-The teams are generally organized by which Blue is active, because theres always an active Blue. I labeled him Remi up there but I eventually renamed him Russell, he's the second Blue. Much like Octavia, he spent most his time as part of a Duo, up until she was killed in the line of action. It was only near the end of his career as Blue that Nia and Charun became Colors. Nia met Sue a couple of times and can remember her fondly, but Charun never met her.

-Dimitri is also an interesting character. The only other Pink that anyones aware of, he was an active antagonist for most of his time. He often got in the way on purpose and would sometimes help colorless out just to see what would happen. With the power of friendship and gay tension he eventually turned a new leaf. Though not before Russell hit him with a car(they're married now).

-Marcy and Nia are the most relevant past Guardians to the modern group. Marcy has a tough start as Blue. Everyone on the team had been a Guardian longer than she had and already expected her to fill the leadership role that Russell had. Not to mention the youngest and littlest Guardian Veronica appeared right after Marcy. It was a lot of pressure to say the least. But the four of them developed a pretty intense bond cuz of it. Unfortunately much like the others, Marcy's time as Blue did not end without tragedy. There was a really hard fight once that they almost lost. Charun and Nia got hurt really bad to the point where Charun outright rejected being Green(a painful process) and now hardly speaks to any of them outside of the occasional pesters from Nia. Nia herself was already disabled, but the fight has made it harder to manage. She always knew the physical stress of being Red would have negative impacts on her but she doesnt regret her time as Red nor does she regret any of the choices she made during that time. Marcy broke a leg as well during this which permanently ended her dance career.

-More on Nia actually, she was always the heart of her group, encouraging everyone to keep face no matter what. Even after it all she still continues to push her friends forward and check in with all of them. Her younger sibling, Benny, looks up to her a lot, his Guardian form mimicking hers in many ways.

-The only one who came out unscathed physically was Veronica, though having watched the emotional fall out made her wary of teaming up with any of the Guardians outside of Benny for a while. Benny's a simp too so he follows her lead on everything.

-Marcy's only 20 when she meets Chiyo but immediately takes it upon herself to support and take care of the new team in a mentor-y role. The way Russell did for her and Octavia for Russell. This usually turns into more of an emotional support role than being active on the field. (She's had to talk Chiyo through her crush drama SO many times). Marcy isn't that much older, but when you're 15 but 20 seems pretty mature in comparison. Due to her own angst about what happened to her last group too Marcy tends to put a lot of the pressure of being The Adult for them onto herself. (no anita you dont count as an adult)

-Anita was gone for approximately 15 years mind you, so the teams are pretty spread out with the occasional overlapping member. She hasn't gone to see Layla yet since coming back to the right time. She's scared of all thats changed during her time trapped in the timestream tbh.

[jpitha]

Color Me Surprised.

Human vision is hacks upon hacks upon hacks. Forget about how our brains just make wild guesses about things we see, or how there are whole parts of your vision that your brain can't see and just does "content aware fill" on it, or how your peripheral vision isn't nearly as good as you think it is.

Our brains just make up colors because we don't like to see two colors next to each other.

Magenta doesn't exist.

****

“Ugh, what is going on?” The Gren moved to cover their eyes as they staggered back, their reverse articulated legs unsteady.

“What? What is it? What’s wrong Peni’tam?” Jalisa stared at her friend as they moved back, their 2 pairs of eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“That… that thing. It hurts to look at!“ Peni’tam finall turned away and with their back to it, opened their eyes. They looked down at Jalisa. “It doesn’t hurt for you to look at? Is it some kind of human weapon?”

Jalisa peered around Pani’tam. Behind her, on the landing platform was a starship. It was small as starships go, likely only holding 4 or 5 people. With a Flip drive, you didn’t really need a large spacecraft for anything. Most destinations were no more than two or three days away, but humans tended to build large anyway. No reason not to when space is nearly limitless. Interdiction ship probably. Military, or at least formerly military.

It was small and sleek, with very few protrusions. Currently sitting on spindly landing legs, it almost looked like an insect.

It was also bright magenta.

“It’s just a ship Peni’tam. The color is a little unusual, but humans tend to paint their ships wild colors anyway. It’s got a bit of a dazzle camo pattern, made up in two or three shades of magenta.”

“Magenta? What’s that?” Now that Peni’tam wasn’t facing the ship they were much more steady on their feet.

“It’s just a color. Like, a really bright pinky purple?” Jalisa looked down at her pad. “Here, let me see if it’s emitting something.” She touched a few points and ran a scan. “Pani’tam, it’s cold. Even the reactor is off. It must be here for a refit.”

Pani’tam turned again and immediately winced. “Ow! No, something is up. That ship hurts to look at. I don’t mean like figuratively, I mean, literally it is painful. It is doing something.”

“Well, let’s step away from it then. We can find another way to the cafe. I just wanted to pass by the pads because I like to look at the ships.” Jalisa said, wistfully.

They went to the cafe by circling around the station past the gymnasium. Inside, Jalisa saw people running and lifting weights that seemed almost comically tiny until she looked over at the sign over the entrance.

OPERATING AT THREE GEE TODAY. EXERCISE CAUTIOUSLY.

She rolled her eyes. Of course the gym nuts would find a way to use the gravity generators to make the workouts more intense.

At the cafe, Jalisa and Peni’tam got their drinks and sat down at a wide, long table. “I just can’t believe that color doesn’t hurt you.” Pani’tam took a sip of their tea. “Your vision must be completely different than ours.”

Another human at the table heard their conversation and turned. “Oh, you saw the Variegated Elegy?”

“The little magenta ship? Yeah, Peni’tam here-“ Jalisa gestured at her friend “-got a massive headache when she tried to look at it.”

The human nodded. “I’m not surprised. It’s an old interdiction ship, originally designed to strike deep into Gren territory during the war. Now that the war is over, it’s here to be refitted into a yacht, and probably repainted too.”

“Oh really? That’s too bad. The magenta dazzle camo is so interesting.” Jalisa sipped her coffee and looked at the human. She was tall, with close cropped hair on one side, and the rest was swept up almost into a dark asymmetric pompadour. She was wearing a tailored uniform without any indicators of rank and just two silver pips on her left breast. She had a scar along her right cheek as well. She looked very rakish, and Jalisa had to look away quickly.

The human laughed. “It’s pretty neat isn’t it? Unfortunately, the Confederation races can’t process magenta. For some it just looks like a very odd blue, others see a very odd red. A few races like the Gren with very accurate color reproduction get headaches and it causes them pain. The color was chosen on purpose for that particular ship.”

“A color… hurts? Also I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

The woman winks. “I didn’t throw it. You can call me Tyler.”

Jalisa blushes just a bit. “Hi Tyler, I’m Jalisa.”

Tyler nods. “Works over in HVAC with Pam and Lan’urian? Nice to meetcha.”

How did she know that? Tyler continues. “Anyway. Yeah, for the Gren, when they see magenta they try and process it, but since the wavelength for blue will never be with the wavelength for red, the color can’t really exist.”

“But we see it?” Her coffee forgotten, Jalisa leans forward.

Tyler laughs. “That’s because our eyes are hacks upon hacks upon hacks. Half the things we ‘see’ aren’t real. Our brains just invent magenta when we put red and blue next to each other. We learned early in the war about Gren vision processing and were able to use it to our advantage. Now that the war’s over, we’re retiring the pain job. Gotta be good members of the Confederation after all.” Tyler rips off a sharp - though sarcastic - salute.

“So, the color of the ship itself is a weapon?” Peni’tam said, with a note of amazement in their voice.

“Yup! Pretty neat right? A weapon with no power and no ammunition and still causes nearly incapacitating pain if a Gren doesn’t look away.”

Jalisa looks at Tyler more closely. She seems so effortlessly confident. “How do you know so much about this, Tyler?”

Tyler shrugs. “Oh, it’s my ship. In the war I was an Intelligence Collection Agent and I ran the Variegated with a small tight crew.”

Jalisa nearly chokes on her tea. “You’re a spy?”

“Was a spy. War’s over, so we don’t need spy’s anymore, right?” Tyler winked again. Jalisa wasn’t sure if Peni’tam caught the gesture or knew what it meant. A wink was very situational and could mean lots of things. Tyler tossed back the rest of her coffee. “Anyway, I’m here for a few more weeks while the refit takes place.” She stands and looks down at Jalisa. “I’m free tonight. Call me, we’ll get dinner.” And without another word, she turns and walks out of the cafe.

After she left, Peni’tam stares at Jalisa. “You aren’t going to go to dinner with her are you?”

“And why not, Peni’tam?”

“She’s a spy! She spied on us during the war!” Peni’tam’s grey fur ripples and her mouthparts clack with stress.

“The war is over Peni’tam. Everyone on both sides fought it. I’m sure you had plenty of your own spies.”

Peni’tam shakes their head. The fur whooshes back and forth while they do it. “She’s so… cocky and self-assured. She practically made your date invitation a command.”

Jalisa blushed again. “I know. It was pretty cool.”

[stardewvalleybut-i-draw]

Can u give me ur full thoughts on Alex? I feel like a lot of the shit he gets is unjustified. Yeah he says some sus things to the farmer (no matter what gender you are!) but that's only because he's horribly mislead. The man just doesn't know any better. I mean think about it. Abused and neglected, lacking good male role models, and he's got no friends in town except for maybe Haley and you know how she is. If she was told "you're probably not into sports" she'd say "ew no" because sports would get her all dirty.

I always saw him as just a loner-type guy who doesn't know how to talk to people. Spent too much time trying to develop his cringe ass macho man persona that he forgot to develop social skills. I don't think that makes him a bad person though. I could honestly talk for hours about how toxic masculinity is a monster that preys on young boys and eats them alive if they're not careful. But even with societal pressure being so intense, growth is possible. Alex is still a massive sweetie in my eyes. A big dumb doofus who loves his granny and wants to lift heavy things just to impress you.

I would love your thoughts though!!

#1 Alex fan anon ⚡️

Yeah. That's basically more or less my thoughts😅

It honestly depends on what you experience that can greatly color Alex's character

This might be one of my more controversial takes

(right next to being a Clint apologist💀)

but stick with me here-

If you grow up in a similar environment to most guys, you can understand why Alex is the way they are. It's not exactly easy to be soft or mindful when you have a harsh environment around you. Many guys end up coping with repressed thoughts and feelings in unique ways to soothe themselves. I think Alex's was sports. (Idk just a hunch) but it often leads to a lot of blind spots or misunderstandings of the world.

I've seen a lot of people like Alex and I've had a couple of friends in high school like that too! And I can tell you... yeah... it comes from SOMEWHERE, A lot of them ain't doing so great mentally.

Heck, I do that! Whenever I get uncomfortable with a situation or feelings I don't like, I make jokes to ease my brain. Releses a little serotonin ya know what I mean?

Not all coping mechanisms are bad tho, we kinda have our own form of bond and support that from the outside looks cold and uninviting but I promise you, we would die for our brothers. (plus the cold uninviting part is just a front)

"I know the homie told us to KYS over Roblox but he bought the group Freebirds during the gym session so it's all good!"/j

I can't say much from the other perspective but I would assume they would see Alex as a HUGE BIG RED flag and someone potentially dangerous or someone who brings back bad memories which is why he is dunked on so much. Even if they don't mean it, they have a higher chance of hurting people.

I don't think Alex is THAT type of character at all, I think he has good intentions but as you said "no social skills". I can see why others would interpret that way though.

It's funny that you mention how Alex doesn't have many female role models cuz... you have

Haley- Lazy and super not into dirt.

His mom- got sick and DIED.

Granny Evelyn- frail weak old woman who makes cookies and tends to flowers.

Those are not exactly SUPER GREAT examples of women who like sports.

Personally, I get why people say that playing a male farmer is better for Alex's story arc along with confronting George about the whole being gay thing but I think the female farmer has elements that I don't think are acknowledged much.

From my perspective anyway, I think a Fem farmer shows Alex a better example of women and what they can do VS grandma, dead mom, and Haley... along with learning boundaries and how better cope with repressed feelings and MAYBE-

-even address the fear of the farmer DYING of a sickness just like his mom or the intrusive thoughts of believing he'll end up like his father making him overprotective and paranoid about the farmers well being...

but you can ignore that...

Idk man, that's just the way I view it. You either like Alex or you don't :/

I ain't saying anyone's wrong to feel the way they do

[jonesywrites]

I feel compelled, so I must.

*Now with images for context

Man I shit you not, I have so much stuff to do like SO MUCH but I also have ADHD and a tendency toward hyperfixation so I am compelled, I tell you.

I'm writing for a whole ass other ship, filming, and editing for my YT channel. But I saw gifs, and I read tweets, and I saw hot takes and then I decided to react to Season 3 Part I for my channel.

I AM OBSESSED.

I'm in the middle of editing my reactions to Ep 1-4 and I just HAVE to chime in with these observations I keep having as I go through and re-live each Polin scene while editing. I know some of this has been seen/said before but I'm a newb to this fandom and I just finished listening to all of the audiobooks (save Simon and Daphne's story) so I just gotta! I OBSERVED A LOT and there's a lot here, so . . .

Colin turns to the Featherington house as soon as he arrives home and greets his family.

Because whether he's aware of it or not, he's thinking of one of those Featheringtons, who happens to be standing there as he debuts "the new Colin" to the people he cares about the most -- which includes Pen, they are telegraphing to us in this moment -- (right after testing some of that newfound charm on a gaggle of giggly girls). I don't think he greets her right away because he isn't ready yet but you can see his smile/smirk when he spots her -- like "Yep, Pen, feast your eyes, it's the new me, and NOW I'll bet you'll want to hear about my travels."

Eloise is the first person to spot that he may not really be into this "new Colin".

The show GOES OUT OF ITS WAY to let you know this isn't really Colin, that his heart isn't really into it, from jump. The siblings Bridgerton do a little "we see each other" when he questions her about trying to fit into society after all this time -- they're two sides of the same coin. He's too sensitive and romantic for the rakes of the ton and she's too independent and free-thinking for the boring trappings of the marriage mart, but here they both are. Pretending.

Colin goes out of his way to test his new charm on half the ladies at the Queen's garden party thing BEFORE he approaches Pen to talk for the first time since he got back -- at first glance he's just doing his thing, being the new him, enjoying himself and his new ability to woo the ladies but IT IS THIS AUTHOR'S HUMBLE OPINION THAT HE WAS TESTING HIS CHARM TO ITS LIMITS BEFORE HE WENT OVER TO THE ONE GIRL HE ACTUALLY WANTS TO/TRUELY ENJOYS CONVERSING WITH TO LAY IT ON HER.

Wanna bet me he wasn't thinking about Pen while he was away, wondering why she wasn't answering, plotting to talk to her when he got back, plotting to see if his new charm would work on her because she's Pen and her opinion means a lot to him? He doesn't get why yet but it's there -- the tip of the iceberg, only a strong desire for her attention and approval right now, but I can sooooo see how that started to quickly burn into a much more intense desire for just...her.

I adore how Penelope asks the dressmaker for new dresses in the fashion of "what they are wearing in Paris" after Colin tells her his new wardrobe is what's all the rage in Paris from is travels.

He always counts on her just being Pen in the citrus colors hanging on the wall, a safe place, but then he sees her in that green dress and I truly believe this is the moment he realizes -- nah fam, this isn't just "Pen my friend who doesn't count (as a woman)", this is "wow who is that woman in the striking color with pretty lips and fiery red hair?"

This poor lovesick fellow has no idea why every time he sees her at a ball his heart does a funny thing and he suddenly can't see anyone else and he gets the urge to drink whatever's in his hand/close by.

HEY BABE IT'S BECAUSE YOU LIKE HER. A LOT. She isn't just Pen who doesn't count, she is SPECIAL.

Much has been said about the "Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton" scene, but I'll just add that you can tell when Colin is being genuine and totally himself vs when he's trying to charm her into relaxing with him/being more like her usual self.

When he says "the colour rather suits you," he's being her good friend who is pleased to see her looking so good but he's also saying that to himself, judging by his tone, like "yeah girl you should wear green more often, this makes you look damn good". And when he says he misses her, he means it, but you can also hear the armor of that New Colin Charm in his tone. It's a vulnerable thing to admit, so he uses a devilish smile and has a wink in his eyes because so far that has worked on every girl here since he got back. Not Pen, though ... he was SHOOK when she rebuffed him and called him cruel.

Yes, he is absolutely panicked that he might lose his one true friend in all of the fickle ton, but also . . . Colin is totally realizing how hot Pen is in the garden scene. Colin is looking into her gorgeous eyes and admitting how she makes him feel and you can see the real-time realization in his eyes/expression. Handshake? He is acting on his impulse to touch her while using his newfound charm to disguise his curiosity.

Colin wants to hang out with her as much as possible because that's how comfortable and appreciated she makes him feel but also it's my opinion that he, at least subconsciously, also wants to keep looking at her, getting closer to her, winning her favor. He's not even thinking about the results of the whole charm lessons thing, he's just thinking about being around Penelope as much as possible because of that realization that she makes existing in a world that is determined to misunderstand him (and has "forced" him to don a mask/facade to survive) bearable.

I agree with those who pointed out that he is taken aback by Pen's awkward flirting session with the fan because normally when they're alone talking all he sees/experiences is her wit, intelligence, keen ability to read between the lines of their society, etc.

Also, you can see he doesn't even care what the other blokes think of her, he thinks she's friggin adorable -- he can't keep the smile off his face even as he's sympathizing with her for going down faster than the Titanic-which-doesn't-exist-yet-duh-but-analogy-with-me-here.

Every moment of the private lesson scene, from him instantly abandoning the card game with his siblings to the way he planned out the whole thing and thought about where everyone would be and what window of time they'd have to "practice" shows THAT HE WAS IN FACT VERY EAGERLY AWAITING HER VISIT for their lesson. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who suggested the game in the garden to get everyone out of the house in anticipation of Pen’s arrival.

It is this author's humble opinion that Colin really, really wanted to pretend to flirt with Penelope to satisfy his nagging, subconscious (yet fluttering to the surface) curiosity and I AM WILLING TO BET MY TWIN SISTER'S WHOLE 2024 SALARY that (especially after her compliment shook him to his core) they wouldn't have made it much longer without him kissing her if they hadn't been interrupted and she had't read his journal.

He wanted alone time, he wanted intimacy, he wanted to flirt -- they would have charmed each other right into each other's pants if those lessons were allowed to continue, mark my words.

Colin's body was at least several weeks ahead of him. The body doesn't lie. Touching her skin in the garden. Leaning into her whenever they speak (with the convenient excuse of their height difference), pressing his palm into her lower back to escort her to the drawing room, sitting and letting her hold his hand for an unnecessarily long pause before forcing himself to stop staring at her and end the impropriety (escape the intensity of the moment to breathe and process, more like).

Jealous Colin(tm) with his intense eyes and hard jawline is everything and hot af, end of observation.

I love Dream Pen for Colin. The way he dressed her. The way his mind envisions her being breathless for him.

The way he pictures himself just holding her close and indulging in hot, sultry kisses until she's practically melting in his arms. THIS IS WHAT HE DREAMS ABOUT, WHAT HE TRULY WANTS. This boy is a Romantic with a capital ROMANTIC and I JUST LOVE how his dream about Pen reflects that so clearly. We've seen him struggling to pay attention or care in brothels but he displays more sexual intensity, passion, and lust in this romantic wet dream about simply confessing his feelings than any other time he's seen on screen with a woman he's supposed to find attractive.

The "Sweet Treats" scene, as I believe I've seen others pointing out, is --yes, sweet-- at a glance. But also HOT AF. He's pining, he's nervous, he's jealous, she's so sweet and lovely confessing her excitement and hopes for the match with Deblin. But it's also hot b/c I meeeean....The pink everywhere (pink walls, get it), her lips and his reaction to her glancing her tongue across them, his fingers flexing out of nerves but also the subconscious urge to touch, maybe even caress, is all in his stiff, hovering body language. Like, if he could shove those treats off one of those tables, throw her against it and ravage her "sweet treat" right then there in that pink little tent, homeboy totally would have if society/propriety/scandal/watching eyes weren't a concern.

SIDENOTE: I think Deblin was definitely attracted to Pen, it wasn't SOLELY a practical match for him.

He says she can make men wither within seconds of their first meeting and he definitely looks at her in a way that says he's charmed, intrigued, impressed, etc. So I think even they married, eventually he would start to miss her while away, then ache for her, then he would come home to her and he would fall. Gradually maybe, but I do believe Pen was right to hope love could grow between them. However, I'm so so sooo glad neither of them settled.

WHAT CAN BE SAID ABOUT THE CARRIAGE SCENE THAT HASN'T ALREADY BEEN SAID??? It's one of the hottest love scenes I've ever seen, and it's not because everybody is naked or because there's kink or anything crazy. It's because (for me) the actors TRULY CARE ABOUT THE DETAILS. Almost every frame has something you can freeze and stare at in awe, they DID THAT. Colin finally FEELING IT, with the one person who can truly see him and inspire those deep feelings he's been yearning for was HOT AF. Pen basically being at his mercy but also realizing her power over him and embracing it by letting him ruin her because it's COLIN (she wouldn't let anyone else do that, IMO, not even Deblin). MY FAVORITE PART:

At the end, when they exhale and slump into each other/the carriage seat in sync. She looks like she's never felt anything like this in her life (cuz she ain't) and he looks like he's finally HOME. And I'm not talking about his family's estate -- I specifically mean right there in Penelope's bosom, between her legs, her breath, her eyes, her moans for him, like he looks relieved and satisfied AND THEN HE'S LIKE "SO I'M NEVER LETTING THIS GO. DONE DEAL, YOU'RE MY PENELOPE, NOW."

Ugh. I loooove this couple! I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BODY. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Gonna add stills for the moments I mention once Tumblr stops being a bitch.

[effy-writes]

Striker: ABC’s of Intimacy

Aftercare:

this dude does not care 😭 at most he'll lay down beside of you and smoke a cigar, asking you if you want a puff

Body part:

ass definitely. spanks it during sex and even when yall aren't fucking.

Communication:

only roleplays him being a cowboy, and whenever he does he'll treat you like a pet. only set of communication is degrading you

Dirty secret:

he's lowkey a masochist. he likes it when you slap his face (his excuse to "punish" you)

Experienced:

not a lot tbh. he doesn't get around as much bc of his assassination business. but the more he fucks you the better he gets. quick learner.

Fav position:

Him standing while you're holding onto him. Kinda like riding but him standing.

Goofy or serious:

serious most of the time, he only ends up laughing if you make fun of the word "blitzy" (and sometimes he might end up getting pissed off, depending on what kind of day he had)

Hair (pubic hair):

doesn't do anything to it, just let it full grow. (pretty nice color of white)

Intimacy:

ha no. isn't the romantic type. at most he'll do is play yee haw music

Jacks off:

hardly ever! he doesn't have a lot of time to do so, so whenever he gets horny he just makes sure you're home and if you wanna fuck

Kinks:

he's topping and dominating, so he's into sadism and rigger (tying up, esp with a lasso)

Locations:

only at the house, but he loves having sex in the living room. he finds it weird fucking in public and people watching

Motivation:

watching you ride a horse while the sun is beaming on you, if you're wearing a white shirt he can see how damp it is because of the sweat, dude goes crazy

No's:

him bottoming/subbing, fucking in public, that's p much about it

Oral:

He likes receiving than giving. you would actually have to ask him to give you head, he won't do it on his own. when you're giving head to him he loves throat fucking

Pace:

fast and rough, loves hearing you moan in pain. dude is a menace. if he sees you're overstimulated/too much pain then he'll slow it down for you and go gentle, he'll just say "sorry" and that's it.

Quickies:

loves them, and you guys do it a lot (because he literally has no time). he gets super happy whenever you ask for one too

Risks:

not risky what's so ever. he wants to keep his sex life tamed, doesn't want to add anything to it other than what yall have right now

Stamina:

pretty high stamina, i mean he does farm work (before he got caught by I.M.P), his job is assassinating, so he can go on for a long time. but after cumming he has a long refractory period

Toys:

he's not into them, hates being pegged, hates using dildos on you, but he is willing to use a vibrator on you while fucking. when it comes to whips he only uses his lasso (because actual cowboy whips hurt like a bitch, and he doesn't want to hurt you THAT bad) he doesn't want to use safe body whips because he just thinks they're stupid, that's it.

Unfair:

nope, he hates edging, just finds it counterproductive. teasing on the other hand, he likes to dirty talk but then not actually do anything about it

Volume:

not loud, just some grunts and some quiet moans

Wild:

he gets really into it whenever he's really, like REALLY horny. The domination can be pretty intense whenever he's so horny he can't contain himself.

Xray:

7 inch, little slim, the shaft color is the same as his skin but the tip has a more pinkish hue to it. he also has a horizontal black stripe on the shaft

Yearning:

it's normal. he has a low sex drive when he's stressed about not being able to kill targets, but the moment he's free and not having to do anything he gets real horny.

Zzz:

he doesn't go to sleep right away, but he does get a little tired. whenever he sees you sleeping then he'll just lay down and close his eyes.

[hermitessun]

Yod observations

the yod is a rare astrological configuration in a birth chart that comprises two quincunx/inconjunct aspects and one sextile.

also known as the "finger of God" or "finger of fate."

- the Yod in astrology is often found in the charts of people whose lives are colored by intensity and constant adjustment

- what crosses your path often involves some scare, shock, security threat, or some other uncomfortable situation over which you cannot exercise any influence. Strange events simply "happen," often out of the blue — yod bearers just get into situations all the time,

-> therefore I advise yod bearers to not limit themselves by conforming to societal rules, or norms, you as an individual do best when creating your own set of rules (ex.: princess diana)

Diana made remarks about always feeling different, like she was carrying a burden that she was unable to articulate, but always knew was there. Her intuition, she said, told her that life would be a winding road, always feeling separate from others; never feeling in the right place.

That is quite the description of how the Yod in astrology functions in an individual

- a yod bearer mostly invokes their own spotlight, not through somebody else. it is uniquely them in it.

for example, Russian model Irina shayk. Despite being in a relationship with famous Ronaldo and gaining fame through him, she had also been quite prominent before, through her beauty and magnetic hue. she also maintained her own identity and got her own unique spotlight whilst dating him. after dating him, her life and her fame was still about her

Georgina Rodriguez, Ronaldo’s current girlfriend, gorgeous as well, but it is undeniable that the spotlight she found herself in was through Ronaldo, she is frequently associated with him. The football star is a huge part of her life. this is by no means hate towards her, I’m a huge fan. just a simple observation.

another example of this “spotlight effect” created by the yod aspect in a birth chart is the super famous Brazilian model Adriana Lima, who is arguably one of the most famous if not the most famous Victoria secret angel. in interviews as well as with the opposite sex she receives more fame and attention than her co-models and this is very VERY apparent.

-> it is almost as if the energy of a yod bearers is very potent and distinguished, that the spotlight and attention… good or bad…. Comes very easy to them.

- yod bearers are also characterized by a tough, intense element, a perfect example being no other than Cristiano Ronaldo. Ronaldo's childhood is marked by hardship and loss (like the death of his father for example). in his adult years despite being undoubtedly amazing at what he does, he is a continuous target for hate.

Messi, his counterpart and challenger, without a yod is very rarely the subject of salty talk. usually when he is addressed, it will be in a manner in which he is admired and praised, as Messi oozes this very humble, calm energy. Ronaldo's yod makes him intense and polarizing, the public feels entitled to talk shit.

Another example of this side effect, is the young Spanish footballer Pablo gavi. if you know anything about gavi, it will be that he is the target for hate within the soccer audience. Similar to Ronaldo, he has a very intense aura that is frequently read as arrogance or conceit… however it is important to note that pablo isn’t the talkative type either… yet is often portrayed as unprofessional etc..

- I have noticed that people with a yod in their chart not only possess a distinctive energy about them, as stated above, .. but are also surrounded by a very sultry air. Here are examples of yod bearers :

[randomfoggytiger]

Forever amazed by the amount of content you have created for the fandom in what feels like such a short amount of time! Thank you for helping keep this show alive!! What are the analyses/fics/lists that you are most proud of/pleased with that you've done?

Thank you! That compliment means the world. :DDDD

Couldn't pick one, but tried to keep things simple.

FIC LISTS

One doesn't stand apart from the rest, but Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part I)-- and Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part II) and Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part III) and Fics that Deserve More Comments (Part IV)-- is my favorite conceit.

FICS

I'll never forget the outpouring of love for my first fic Son of Egypt, so that is definitely on the list. Runner up is "The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully"; but I'm unutterably proud of both.

I also treasure all of my Fictober Wrap Up and Eight Nights of Mulder Master List fics (except the last one for 8NoM.)

Chariots of Fire  makes me chuckle.

The Bill Scully POV fics were a way to flex the nuances of his character. (They can be found through the Bill Scully POV tag.)

Fics outta my comfort zone that I'm proud of: "Kids Today, Huh?", The Hospital Where You Slept, and "I Know You. It’s What I Do."

META

I'm most proud of All IVF Roads Lead Away from The Unnatural and to Millennium, Fire and False Romance, Ice and Love, and How Scully Taught Mulder to Hug because they got the most traction.

In love with? Today: 1. "Proving" Mulder Knew He Was the Father of Scully's Baby, 2. Scully Is the Conduit Conductor and Mulder Is the Dancer, 3. Mulder Is a Brooder; and Scully Is His Concluder, 4. One Son: An Intense, One-Shot Analysis of “You’re Making This Personal”, 5. Never Again: An Intensive Essay and 6. The Mulder Family In-Depth. Also: anything Season 8 or Arcadia.

XF MUSICALS/FANVIDS

These are my passion projects, I admit.

TINH: Scully’s Solo, S2 Abduction: Mulder’s Torment, Drivin’ Right Along, CSM and Diana: The Riddle, and Milagro: Hellfire have my heart.

Others that make me equally proud: 1. Syzygy: Everything You Can Do I Can Do Better, 2. Mulder and Samantha: Miracle of Miracles, 3. Amor Fati: If I Never Knew You, 4. The Mulders: Sunrise, Sunset, 5. Monday: There’s Always Tomorrow, and 6. Memento Mori: I Bring You a Song.

PERSONALITY TYPING

I'm super, duper proud of MULDER, The Spooky INTP and SCULLY, The Enigmatic ISTJ (which I then applied to Mulder and Scully: Love and Touch for INTPs/ISTJs, and an analysis of One Son-- Part I and Part II-- and Never Again.)

OFF-SHOOTS

My "live-blog" reacts to Return to Me (from the POV of Someone Averse to RomComs) and IWTB (Losing My Mind) crack me up.

Did a few Personality Typing posts for Hank Moody and other movies (Return to Me, Bringing Up Baby, and What Happens Later.)

Lastly, David Duchovny’s Face: an Aesthetics Study got me hooked on exploring fashion-- Seasonal Color analysis, body types, essences, etc.-- through the lens of David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. (You can find those posts through the randomfashiontiger tag.)

CONCLUSION

Thank you for making me feel special this weekend~. :))))))

[kissingrhi]

what are your nsfw jimmy headcanons? (i really see him as a subby service top, eager to please, to do anything you want.) idk i just love ur headcanons id love to hear!!

oh yes. absolutely. do u see this man. i know what you are jimmy!

early jimmy (seasons 1-3) is on a completely different realm than late jimmy and saul (seasons 4-6).

by that i mean, early jimmy is the most fragile, shattered-shell of an individual, and that 100% seeps into the bedroom.

a crier. he's sensitive, what can he say? (his words)

sheepishly weeps when you tease him too much, whining when you only push him further for a fresh set of pretty tears.

stuttery, bated breaths escape his throat. "i- i don't understand why you're being so mean?" he asks, his voice cracking right on the highest octave he can reach.

he only groans and wails the more you push him. he definitely gets harder no matter what.

gets nervous every single time you two interact sexually!

a whore for semi-public acts.

if you two are in the car in a (mostly) empty parking lot, he'll almost cum in his pants the moment you press a mischievous hand against his tender thigh.

100000% a service top (you are so real anon!!)

will literally cry against your neck while he's inside of you, continuing even when he's came "God-knows how many times."

all because he "wants you to feel good"

such a sweetheart, huh?

NO!

a tease......big time.

he is still the infamous jimmy mcgill.

will pull faux innocence till it's near snapping like a band of outstretched elastic.

"i was literally just resting my hand. you're being over-fucking-dramatic." knowing damn well his hand under the dining table was far too close for comfort.

the moment 'fucking' drops from his mouth, he's mentally preparing himself for the steady hand against his throat, airing out his windpipes.

you can bet your sweet ass that even when he is fucked stupid, a sheer layer of sweat against his forehead, a deep maroon spreading all over his skin, he will still have a smart remark!

it's only when he's hissing and cursing through his teeth at the stimulation of his very sensitive head, or begging to breathe from between your thighs, that he actually keeps his (very beautiful) mouth shut.

LOVES bondage. like LOVES. BONDAGE.

adores when you've got pent up anger at work, so much that you call him and let him know he needs to have on of his colorful ties ready for you after work. makes him feel so special :>

cracks SO many corny ass jokes during the act.

loses his mind if you play with his nipples. if you even run a hand over his dress shirt after giving him a hug and his knees will literally buckle underneath him.

his praise kink.

as we know from the show, jimmy early-on was pretty insecure, and often seeking validation from chuck.

so if he ever needs an escape, away from any sort of attention, you refuse.

instead, you'll hold longer, more intense eye contact when you run your fingers along his sides. you'll make him look. praise him for "how well he handles you." how "good of a boy he is."

it makes him want to melt into the floor, but he loves every minute of it.

he swears a part of himself is healed when you praise him.

.....whimpers "thank you" over and over again every time he cums. if you want to make him blush, mock him after.

in conclusion, early jimmy is an insanely praise-deprived, emotionally needy sub

thank you for coming to my ted talk!

[dandylovesturtles]

I said to myself, “I’m going to write a short little ficlet about April taking the boys’ pictures for Splinter, that will be cute,” and then the Donnie portion got so long that I was like “okay I’ll just write about that.” I’m sure later I will circle back to the other three, and April showing the pictures to Splinter.

Support 100 Feet and a World Away in the TMNT Separated AU competition if you wanna! I have no idea when my poll is coming…

…

“Okay, before we start planning today,” April pulls out her phone, turning on the camera, “I’m gonna take your picture!”

Donnie looks suspicious. She can’t blame him - he’s had to put a lot of trust in her, a person he barely knows. She’s sure there’s some part of him that still thinks she’s planning on turning him into some kind of freak show attraction. “Why?”

“I’m gonna show your dad.” She lifts the phone, frowning at the bad lighting. Too bad she can’t turn any more on… “He wants to see what you look like all grown up!”

That’s half of it. The other half, she’s sure, is that Splinter wants to know that she isn’t jerking him around - that she really has met the boys, that she can get to them. He’s having to put a lot of trust in her, too.

It’s a little overwhelming when she thinks about it too long, so she doesn’t. Just focus on getting the photos - that’s all she has to do.

“The man who claims to be my father, you mean,” says Donnie.

April swallows down an exasperated groan. “Donnie, he has baby pictures of you.”

“Are you telling me there’s no way of manipulating pictures?”

“What, you think they’re photoshopped?”

“Aha!” Donnie points at her dramatically. “So there is a way!”

She needs to change tacks here. “These would be hard to fake. He’d have to know what you look like - what all of you look like.” She gestures at him. “He’d have to know that you have markings on your arms and shoulders, your eye color, what your shell looks like… That your color is purple.”

Donnie still looks suspicious through her little speech, but at the last point, she can see something else break through. After all, that’s the one thing the scientists here don’t know.

He’s still not sold, she knows that, but she can’t blame him there, either. All the walls he’s built up are defensive, and they’ll take time to wear down.

“I wouldn’t show this to anyone I think would hurt you,” she says, hoping he believes her. “I’ll even delete it when I’m done, if you want.”

He hesitates a second longer, and when he moves back from the fence and lowers into the water she thinks he won’t agree. But then he surfaces again, a few feet back, and holds his arms straight out to the sides.

“Okay,” he says resolutely. “I’m ready.”

She stares at him. “Uh… why are you standing like that?”

“Is this not the normal protocol for taking pictures?”

She doesn’t want to ask, but she does, anyway. “Is that how those creeps make you stand?”

“Yes.” He twists at the waist. “Front and then back.”

Of course. Every day she learns some new, messed up thing.

She wishes she could have five minutes alone with these creepazoid scientists - just her, them, and her trusty baseball bat.

But Donnie doesn’t need her justifiable rage right now, so she breathes past it and focuses.

“No, it’s not… Most people don’t take pictures like that.” T-pose for dominance crosses her mind, but there’s absolutely no time for explaining memes right now. “You wanna look more… natural.”

“Natural. Okay.” He drops his arms, then fidgets with his hands. “How do I do that?”

“Just stand how you normally stand when you talk to me.”

He frowns, then wades closer. Sways a little, his eyes locked on her. It’s interesting, how it doesn’t scare her like it did at first. “Like this?”

He looks angry like this. His mouth is set in a line, eyes intense. April knows it as his resting face, but what will Splinter think?

Telling Donnie to smile feels weird, though, so she sucks in a breath and nods. “Yep, like that. Okay, I’ll take the pic - it’s gonna flash, okay?”

“Flash?”

“Yeah, flash a bright light. Just for a second.”

He nods. “Okay.”

She holds up the phone, focuses, then takes the pic. Donnie doesn’t startle at the flash, and she’s glad she warned him about it.

The picture itself is… well, depressing is the only word she has for it. Donnie looks angry, standing alone in the dark, feet from the camera and behind a fence. The shadows from the chain link crisscross over his face and body, stark reminders of his captivity.

On one hand, it definitely shows the situation Donnie is in.

On the other, she can only imagine how it would feel to see this picture as a parent.

She kinda hates the idea of bringing Splinter only this… But what else can she do?

“Hmmm…” She taps the phone against the palm of her hand, thinking. Her eyes land on the slot in the fence they use to give Donnie food, and an idea forms.

“Is something wrong with it?” Donnie asks, and she shrugs.

“I was just thinking, the fence makes it hard to see your face.”

“I can’t leave the fence yet, though,” he reminds her, and she shakes her head.

“No, but I can give the phone to you.” She indicates the food slot.

Immediately his eyes light up. “You’re giving me the phone?” His voice pitches up in excitement.

“Hold your horses! We don’t have time for you to go down an internet search rabbit hole, okay?” He opens his mouth, and she shakes her head. “And you are not taking it apart.” He shuts his mouth again. “You’re just gonna take a selfie.”

“A selfie?”

“Yep!” She turns around, then lifts her phone so he can see the screen. He gets as close as he can without touching the fence, so close she can feel his breath as he exhales. His eyes are locked on the phone in fascination. “See this button? If you click that, it switches to the selfie camera.”

“There’s a camera on the front of the phone too!?” Donnie sounds delighted by this information. “Where are they hiding it!?”

“Uh, it’s up here… somewhere.” She gestures at the top of the phone, then shakes her head. “Anyway, once you’re ready, you click this button, and it takes the pic! And that’s called a selfie, because you took a picture of yourself.”

She shows him the picture they just took, of herself talking and Donnie leaning in close, watching with rapt attention. It’s definitely not her best picture, but Donnie looks so much more alive than he did in the last one, even still obscured by the fence.

She thinks she might keep that one, too.

“I see… a selfie.” Donnie says the word like he does all new ones, like he’s turning it around in his mouth to see how it feels. “And you want me to take one?”

“Yep!”

She turns to the food slot, then hesitates. There’s always a chance Donnie will completely disregard what she just said and take the phone for himself - she can’t exactly get it back from him if she hands it over.

But he’s been putting a lot of trust in her, so she can give a little back.

“Here - don’t let it get wet.”

She slips it into the slot. Donnie shakes off his hands, then takes it between his fingers, looking at it with entirely too much reverence. If he ever gets a phone if his own, she thinks, they’ll never get him off it.

For a moment he looks extremely tempted to start rooting through the internet no matter the risks, but after she clears her throat (twice) he gets back on task.

“Right, okay… so I just hold it up like this…” He squints, then moves around in the enclosure, watching the screen. “…I can see myself better here,” he says after he stops.

“You have better lighting there,” April agrees - not that the lighting was ever going to be great with just the dimmed safety lights. “Look at you, you’re a natural!”

Donnie lights up at the praise, his face loosening if not quite smiling. He takes the picture, then ducks like he’s about to go under the water (“Donnie, not with the phone!”), before wading back to the fence.

“Is this okay?” he asks, showing her the screen.

He doesn’t look angry anymore, and the lighting is better - and without the fence, there’s a clear view of his face.

April grins. “It is. Hey, how about you take a few more, though, just to be on the safe side.”

“Ah, yes… to be on the safe side,” he repeats, before wading back to the same spot as before. He lifts the phone, and starts taking pictures, looking at them each time.

After the first two, his lips twitch up, and then his smile grows and grows. April watches as he takes ten more pictures, even starting to tilt his head and angle this way and that. Like a normal kid trying to get the best shot for his instagram.

Her heart warms over it.

She’d let him do this all night if she could, but she only has a few hours and she has to get to the other boys, so after a few minutes more she calls out, “Donnie, I think that’s enough.”

“Can I take a few more?” He glances back at her. “This is… fun.”

“I know, but I gotta take pictures of your brothers, too.” She smiles reassuringly. “Once you’re outta here, you can take all the selfies you want, okay?”

He holds the phone tight, considering… but then he comes back to the slot and gently pushes it back to her.

She takes the phone and opens the pictures, flipping through them in order. His smile in the pictures gets wider and wider, quickly taking on that manic, unhinged quality he gets when he gets really worked up about something.

April feels like she likes those selfies the best. He looks most alive. Most like himself. She can’t wait to show these to Splinter.

After all, if he can’t love this kid at his most weird, he doesn’t deserve to be Donnie’s dad.

[sheiireen]

I redrew this old art piece.

...and here is the full story, which I have never published. (They are in class 1a, after they got their provisional licences)

White Clover

Katsuki's lungs were burning.

No matter what he did, the itching in his throat would not disappear.

He was fucked. He knew he was fucked, but he'd rather die than tell anybody what was going on. Hell, he would just have to destroy those damn flowers before they escaped his mouth. It's been three months and he was managing, somehow. Hot water and some suspicous pills he purchased online helped him to slow down the process, but he knew if he didn't act, he would die. It would be fine. He was Katsuki fucking Bakugou. Something like this won't – can't stop him from becoming a hero.

The most annoying part? He didn't know who caused all of this shit. Katsuki has never loved anyone. What the fuck was he supposed to do? It didn't help that he couldn't find the damn flowers and their meaning online. They were disgustingly covered in blood and saliva and they looked disgusting and everything was disgusting and-

"...Kacchan?"

Izuku pulled Katsuki out of his thoughts. "Fuck you, Deku. What do you want?" "I – I was just worried...you don't – you don't look so well." Of course this fucking nerd couldn't just leave him alone. Can't you feel my burning throat? Katsuki wanted to yell, but instead, he turned his gaze away from Izuku with an annoyed huff and walked away. "Mind your own business, damn nerd." His red eyes glared at Izuku, as if to say I dare you to say any more.

Izuku followed him hesitantly. At another time, Katsuki would blame that fucker's stubbornness for ignoring his fucking warning, but of course today, they were assigned to do a stupid project from UA together. A project that included an investigation of a cave at the top of a mountain, which was restricted for normal people. That was why they were now on their way to that stupid hill on their map. Today, Katsuki's lungs were worse than usual and it pissed. Him. Off. Being on a mountain path with stupid Deku constantly next to him would give Katsuki barely any time to excuse himself to puke some fucking flowers out that made him slowly die from suffocation.

"I think this clue means we should take the path on the right." Katsuki ignored the burning feeling in his throat building up for the millionth time today.

"If you fold the map, it looks like a four-leaf clover and I remember from the last clue that there must be a flower field close to the cave!" Katsuki didn't have the strength to argue, so he waited until Izuku made a move towards wherever he thinks they needed to go and he followed him.

"Kacchan...are you sure you're ok? We can take a break, if you want..."

"I'm fucking fine. Let's get this stupid project done." Katsuki made the last comment so Izuku would shut up. And so I can go into my room and get rid of this burning throat, he silently added. In this exact moment, his body decided to betray him. His sudden cough made the other stop and run back towards Katsuki, who was now crouching on gras, trying to hold in the bloody flowers, trembling and gasping for air.

"Kacchan!" Putting one hand on Katsuki's back, Izuku said, panicking "What's wrong?" He tried to look for injuries while Katsuki's head was facing the gras. He didn't want Izuku to see his pained face. "W-water." He managed to say between shallow gasps. But before he could take the bottle from Izuku's hand, the flowers forced their way out and the green gras changed into a field of bloody, orange colored mess.

What was relief for his lungs, was devastation for his heart. He tried to keep in the tears from falling. Thinking back on his fits, on the intensity of the attacks and his reactions, he finally understood who caused all of this. How shameful, how embarrassing, how humiliating it was that out of all the people, Deku was the one to see his pathetic feelings. His silence told him that he realized what was wrong with Katsuki. _____ "Who is it?" Katsuki was quiet. "Kacchan...how long has this been going on? This doesn't look like it happened recently. Please talk to me." Izuku's desperate plea made Katsuki's irritation grew. "Let me help you. You will die if you don't -" Katsuki grabbed Izuku by his collar and met his big, glassy eyes with his own, angry ones. "Shut up. I don't want your help. Pretend like you never saw anything."

He slowly stood up, finally looking at the mess he puked out. There were more flowers than usual and Izuku was right. He must have reached the final stage. Will he live one month? A week? A day?

Before he could take a step, Izuku grabbed his arm. "No. I won't let you leave like this."

Katsuki sighed. He had no energy to fight. He was tired. Izuku expected a fight, but he didn't care anymore. Since he would die anyway, why not just let it all out? Maybe he would finally feel relief. "It's you." Izuku's reaction was just as he imagined. Quiet and confused. No words uttered. He just stared at him blankly.

Seeing his face gave Katsuki the energy he needed before. He just laughed, holding his hair with his hand. "You're gonna make fun of me, huh? Go ahead. Laugh. I don't care anymore." He shook his head. "I don't get it either." He felt tears falling from his eyes, his hand still in front of his face. "Why you? Why you of all people?" Katsuki yelled. The silence felt like eternity, before Izuku replied quietly. "I- but. No. This doesn't make any sense. I thought I- uh." Katsuki finally looked at Izuku, who looked the same as Katsuki. Desperate, pathetic, with tears filling his eyes. After another pause, he uttered a whispered "I'm sorry." He reached out for Katsuki, but he took a step back.

"Don't come closer. I don't need your pity. Why aren't you laughing?" His voice was so deperate, he felt sorry for himself, Pathetic. "I-I'm sorry, okay?" That's not it.

"It's not like I wanted this either." There was no malice or anger in Izuku's tone. Only sadness and pure frustration. "I don't understand you! Is -is it that bad?" You're wrong. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Katsuki hated how small his voice sounded when all he wanted was to yell. Why the hell aren't you angry? Why do you still look at me with those eyes? "I'm sorry." Stop following me. "I didn't mean to hurt you." I hurt you. "Please don't be mad." I don't deserve you. Let me go.

Let me go. Let me go. The flowers spoke in a language both could understand.

_____ After Katsuki's second fit, he passed out. Two fits in one day? How long did he have left? Izuku carried Katsuki down the mountain as fast as he could, where Aizawa was waiting with some of the other students who were assigned at the same area as them. He was taken to the hospital. Izuku didn't tell the others what happened, his mind was filled with panick and confusion.

Izuku was in love with Katsuki. He always has been. Why did he never get the disease? Was is because Katsuki loved him back? But why did Katsuki get the disease despite his feelings then? Were Izuku's feelings not genuine? Doubt started to creep up inside of him. He had to find out how the disease exactly worked, he knew his love was real, so why did he cause Katsuki to catch such a terrible disease? His heart ached. By pounding his fist on his chest and breathing deeply, he tried to calm himself down. "Midoriya Izuku?" The doctor who just examined Katsuki interrupted his thoughts. "Yes, that's me."

"We gave your friend some pain killers and medicine to suppress the flowers, but unfortunately, the disease spread too far in his lungs. It must have been months since he caught hanahaki." He took out a small bag with petals. "Every patient has different flowers, it comes from their desires. These are butterfly weeds." He took the bag from the doctor. "How can I help him?" "The only way to save him is to make the other person fall in love with him, but given the circumstances...it's unlikely that we can save him in such a short time span." But I do love him.

"He is awake, if you want to talk." Izuku didn't hesitate to enter the room. "Kacchan!" He sat down on the edge of the bed, but Katsuki didn't pay any attention to him, instead, he kept staring out the window. He was so angry at him for not saying anything all this time, but fighting was meaningless right now. All he wanted was to save Katsuki's life. "The doctor gave me the petals. He said these come from your desire. Do you know the meaning of them?" He took out the bag. Katsuki slowly turned his head towards Izuku to look at the bag and nodded. "Took me too fucking long to realize..." "I'm sorry for causing this to you. If only I told you how I felt before." "What do you mean?" "I love you." Katsuki snorted. "You don't love me." "I do. I always have." He stared into Katsuki's eyes, but he could see that the words didn't reach his eyes. "Stop trying to play hero, Deku. Why would you love me? Me? Of all the people? You don't have to try to pathetically save me by acting like you love me. It's okay. I'm fine." Without meaning to, Izuku's irritation krept up. "What the fuck do you mean? I'm not lying." His response was quick, no anger, no distress, just simple words. "I don't deserve you." "You can't decide who I love and who I don't. I love you. You can't take that from me, Kacchan!" He put his hands on Katsuki's shoulders. He didn't care how distressed he sounded, how franctically he held him, forcing him to keep looking into Izuku's eyes. "If you can't accept my love, you will suffocate. Please don't do this. I'm not pretending, you're the only one I love." His eyes swelled up with tears. Katsuki started to cough. Another fit? "I want to be alone now, Deku. Leave." Izuku didn't move. "Please." With a pang of sorrow, Izuku left. Not because listened to Katsuki's wish, but because he was determined to prove that he loved him. He didn't have much time.

_____ After a two hour train ride, an hour of walking, thirty minutes of waiting, he found the person he was looking for. The girl in front of him, with long, wavy pink hair and pink eyes, didn't expect a stranger waiting in front of her apartment door. She seemed nervous and it didn't help that Izuku seemed desperate. But he was. He quickly introduced himself and managed to convince her that he wasn't a creep. "I'm sorry for the sudden visit. I need your help."

_____ Like Katsuki wished, Izuku was gone, and he didn't return. He would lie if he said he wasn't hurt by that, even if he was the one who told him to leave. Katsuki watched the sky until the sun left. At least the sunset was beautiful today. He didn't know what to do. Should he call his parents to bid them farewell? Write his classmates letters? The doctor said he had a few days left, since the frequency of his fits increased day by day. Dying by suffocation was not on his to-do list. Maybe he should find a random villain on his last day so he could pretend he died in a fight.

He sighed. Everything was so dumb. His self-pity moment was interrupted by a knock on the window. At first he thought it was his imagination, a sad attempt at hoping to see the person he was longing for, but once the knocking increased, he knew it was reality. He opened the door and was greeted by a hug. "Kacchan!" "How did you climb up here, stupid Deku?" He hoped the other didn't hear the happiness in his voice. "That's a secret." Izuku's smile brightened up the whole room, which was completely dark by now. He took Katsuki's right hand and put something in it. "Here...eat this. It will make you feel better." Izuku handed him a soft pink rose petal. He also had one in his hand and ate it. He did as he was told. They waited for a bit, but Katsuki didn't feel any difference. His insides were still burning and he felt another fit coming, so he put his hand on his heart to soothe the pain. "Give me your hand, Kacchan." Izuku replaced Katsuki's hand with his own so it laid gently on his chest. He was sure the other felt his increasing heart beats. Whether it was due to the flowers creeping up or because he was way too damn close didn't matter right now. Izuku's hand felt comforting. Somehow, he managed to calm down slowly. He felt a relieving warmth spreading inside of him and his negative emotions seemed to melt away. Katsuki let out a breath and closed his eyes. He felt more at ease than ever. "What did you do to me?" His voice was calmer than he expected. He opened his eyes to meet Izuku's, who was smiling softly. He saw a delicate blush coloring Izuku's cheeks. It suited him so well. In that moment, Katsuki wished time stood still. He wished he could have erased his past to treat Izuku with all the care, all the love he had deserved. "What you're feeling right now are my emotions." Katsuki felt warm tears on his face. Izuku kept his gaze on him, with his hand still on his chest. He felt it all. The kind of love that is serene, happy, pure. He felt his devotion, his unwavering affection. Everything. "Do you get it now? You own my heart." In the silence of the room, Katsuki wept softly. He managed to nod and hugged Izuku. Partly because he didn't want to show his face, partly, because words were unneeded. His lungs were no longer burning.

[anakin-pilled]

𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part four)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 7.1k

warnings: no use of y/n, alchohol consumption, reader gets drunk/tipsy, rushed ending

rating: 18+

author's note: i literally didn't mean for this to come out so late. life got in the way (again). i was super excited to write this chapter but the more i wrote it the more i was like UGH lowkey don't like the way this turned out but i hope you enjoy anyway! when will reader and anakin finally fuck? reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

side note: i read on wookiepedia that in the sw universe, they refer to alcohol as "hooch" so i used that in the story...not sure if i like it but i wanted it to be immersive lol

creds to saradika for the divider!

The party was in full swing by the time you and Anakin arrived at the party. He knew Coruscant’s rich and famous lived lavish, but he would’ve never imagined attending a party of this splendor. A live jizz band was playing in one corner of the room, their shiny instruments reflecting off the chandelier lights. People of all species flocked to the living room, where protocol droids served an abundance of hooch and fanciful hor d’ourves. The people, dressed in the latest galactic fashion trends, laughed and danced with each other like they had no care in the world. Like there wasn’t a war happening throughout the galaxy–a war that threatened the very comfortability of their lives. Where there was much pain and turmoil in the galaxy, there was none in this room. Anakin was disgusted by this.  

The host, an acquaintance named Jackson Wang, lived in an expensive high-rise located in Coruscant’s entertainment district. The three-story apartment was built with the most expensive materials in the galaxy. The windows were composed of reinforced clari-crystalline, and the floor was constructed out of white Wayland marble embedded with specks of Kallistan gems. Gold, shimmery streamers decorated the grandiose columns supporting the apartment, and there was bright, colorful plasto confetti strewn across the floor. The very presence of this room went against the Jedi code–it was an attachment to wealth and materialism. Even if Anakin never joined the Jedi, he still would have found this party revolting. How could people live like this when there was still so much wrong with the galaxy? Slavery, poverty, species discrimination, etc. were all happening under the Republic. Being born a slave radicalized Anakin. It was harder for him to ignore the galaxy’s rampant class differences. It proved to him even further that politicians could not be trusted–because how could they allow such a disparity to run rampant?

Anakin’s eyebrows furrowed as he took in the sight before him. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but the creases between his eyebrows told you it was nothing positive. You noticed Anakin looked out of place in his humble, dark Jedi attire. You knew this wasn’t his scene, and he might feel out of place, but Anakin insisted on coming. What business did a Jedi have doing at a party like this? “For your protection,” he defended.

“You okay there? You look like you’re about to shoot lightsabers out of your eyes with that glare.” It was true. Anakin’s eyes were a dark, stormy blue right now.

You thought he would have laughed at your stupid joke, but Anakin’s glare only became directed towards you. You shivered in response. His glare was intense which was exacerbated by the scar on his face. His presence exuded authority, it was raw and powerful. You would gladly give into it every time.

“I’m fine. I think this party is ridiculous,” Anakin replied. “Look at all the food just sitting there, no one is eating it, and they’re ignoring the servers. The least they can do is acknowledge the servers. Do you know how many planets are starving out there? Entire systems wiped out by the Separatists? Just for the rich to parade here and let good food spoil.” He scoffed at the end of his sentence.

You had no idea Anakin would feel so strongly about this. However, what Anakin was saying made complete sense. You felt guilty–even if he wasn’t directly speaking about you, these were still your “people.” You always tried your best to not be wasteful and treat all workers respectfully. Even so, it couldn’t be denied that rich people, more often than not, were the opposite of you.

“I agree with you. I don’t know why they order so much food, especially when they know that most people will be too busy drinking, talking, or dancing. Why don’t we make sure that the food doesn’t go to waste by having some?” you offered as a solution. That wasn’t Anakin’s point, but he conceded anyway. The both of you walked towards a table where a pretty spread of food sat like decoration.

After fixing yourselves a small plate of food, you began speaking again. “Thank you, Anakin. You and the Jedi are doing your best to ensure the safety of the Republic and all of the galaxy’s inhabitants. We shouldn’t be allowed to parade here, not while others are struggling to survive.”

“I didn’t intend to insult you. It’s just an observation that I made. You can’t help but become cynical after witnessing war crimes being performed on innocent people.” Anakin was slightly embarrassed. He didn’t mean to group you in with everyone else, especially after you and your team have graciously treated him these last few rotations. But still, he meant what he said.

“How is it being on the battlefield? It must be so hard to be in constant chaos. Anakin, you are so brave, ” you innocently wondered.

Anakin didn’t know how to describe it to a civilian, mainly because Anakin rarely found himself around civilians nowadays. The only civilians he encountered were those who needed saving, those who understood the brutality of war. Anakin knew that not everyone in the Jedi organization agreed with their current roles under the Republic. Some Jedi believed that the Republic was interfering too much with Jedi affairs and that the Jedi should relinquish their roles as generals. Others, including Anakin, believed that the Jedi were too constrained by the Jedi principles and teachings to effectively fight in this war. Though there were many wins for the Republic, almost every loss encountered could’ve been a win, if only the Jedi could see past the teachings for a moment. On top of that, the Senate’s constant feuding and bickering rendered it useless. They could barely fund the war at the moment, hence a select group of Senators decided to host a concert charity benefit to raise credits for the war effort. There was so much uncertainty. If Anakin was certain about one thing, however, it’s that he belonged on the battlefield.

“I hate war…but I love being on the battlefield.” Anakin hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I was a slave, along with my mother, before the Jedi found me. I had only heard of the Jedi. They were mythical to me, they sounded too good to be true.” Anakin never thought he would be revealing this information to another soul, especially not in the middle of a party with one of the galaxy’s biggest singers. 

Your breath slightly hitched at Anakin’s confession. A part of your heart shattered, and an overwhelming feeling of empathy and sadness washed over you. Anakin felt the shift in your energy. 

“Being a Jedi is an honor, and being on the battlefield allows me to be the type of Jedi that I pictured as a young boy. As a slave, I was subjected to my former owner’s rule, never allowed to act on my own. On the battlefield, I act on my own and make my own decisions. I’m using my power for the greater good, ensuring that the galaxy doesn’t tumble further into chaos and destruction. I can be myself on the battlefield. There’s a sense of independence from everything when it’s just you, your padawan, and your legion. It’s a reminder of how far I have come in life,” Anakin finished with a hard edge to his voice.

“Anakin…I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that you used to be a slave,” You said gently as if the words you spoke were made of glass. Who would have thought that one of the galaxy’s most powerful Jedi used to be a slave? Hearing those words come from Anakin’s mouth shocked you. 

“Don’t apologize. You couldn’t have known.” Anakin didn’t want you to feel bad. He looked off to the side, suddenly feeling like his flustered nineteen-year-old self again. This wasn’t information he easily divulged, nonetheless to someone he met only a few rotations ago. Anakin hoped it wouldn’t change your view of him. 

You grabbed Anakin’s hand and reassuringly rubbed your thumb on the top of his hand. Your thumb felt the ridges and lines of his veins. “You didn’t deserve that. Neither did your mother–no one ever deserves to be a slave. I’m picturing the young version of you, and my heart is breaking. You were just a child, too innocent and pure to be in that situation. I don’t want you to think I’m pitying you, Anakin. If anything, I think you’re even braver now after learning about your past. Thank you for sharing that with me. It couldn’t have been easy.”

What you were saying was the truth. An image of a small Anakin flashed through your brain. You imagined he had golden hair that illuminated his face like a halo and brilliant blue eyes that contrasted against the rugged, red monochromatic terrain of Tatooine. If Anakin looked like a god now, he must’ve looked like a cherub when he was little. Your awe for Anakin grew tenfold.

 He had been dealt life’s shittiest stack of cards and managed to overcome it all. 

It was silent for a moment. It’s not that Anakin didn’t want to respond, but he didn’t know how to respond, so he simply nodded. Anakin couldn’t verbalize any words. He felt vulnerable right now. It was as if Anakin responded to your words, it would solidify the fact that he shared one of his deepest secrets with you. He wasn’t ready to confront what that meant, so he stayed silent. 

 You took note of Anakin’s silence and shifted the conversation to yourself. You understood how daunting it was to reveal a part of yourself that you often kept hidden away.

“Per my contract, I’m not allowed to voice my opinion on anything polarizing. I can’t speak on politics, the economy, war. It was half a shock to the public when the media announced that I would be headlining the benefit concert. On one hand, it made sense because I’m one of the more popular artists in the galaxy right now. On the other hand, people were shocked I was taking a political stance, even if indirectly,” you explained to Anakin. You grabbed a glass of the ambrosia-colored liquid that was stationed next to you and Anakin. It was bitter but had subtle notes of sweetness. You took a few sips before continuing.

“It’s unfortunate that it has to be that way. There are so many times when I wished I could’ve spoken up and used my influence for something that matters. Sometimes I feel like a coward because I see everything happening in the galaxy and I’m voiceless. The truth is I am a coward, just like every other person in this room. We have all this wealth and influence, just to do what? Let it sit in a bank account or spend it carelessly? It’s pathetic. We should be doing more.”  Just because you weren’t allowed to publicly speak about certain topics didn’t mean you had no opinions on it altogether. 

You took a few more sips of your drink before finishing it. You placed the glass back on the tabletop and gave Anakin a sheepish smile, “I’m rambling now, aren’t I? Sorry about that. I ramble when I get nervous. Anyway, my point is I’m glad that I took the opportunity to headline the benefit. I think my team was slightly against it at first, but after some convincing from the chancellor, they changed their minds and allowed me to do it. People like you, those who have actually witnessed the spoils of war, remind me of why it’s so important to take a stand. I don’t want to be voiceless anymore–not at such a crucial time in politics. If I can’t do the actual fighting, then I’m glad to support those who do by lending my talents. I’ll milk those suckers for all the credits they have.” 

Anakin chuckled at your last sentence. He appreciated your sentiment. “Not many can say the same as you. Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Anakin. I’m just doing what any person in my position should do. I probably pissed off some people, but oh well.”

You heard your name being called from the side. Your conversation was interrupted by your friend, Cressida, a fashion designer from a small mid-rim planet who made a name for herself through her unique and stylish designs. Her skin was dyed pink (you knew her natural skin tone was a lifeless pale), and her hair was coiffed in an elaborate bun with pastel ringlets falling over and small curls sticking to the nape of her neck, appearing messy yet sensual. She came from a planet inhabited by humanoids known for their allure caused by specially produced pheromones. 

“Cressida, it’s so lovely to see you! How’s your latest line going?” you faked a smile before greeting her with two kisses on either side of her cheek. Your mother always told you to play nice since playing dirty resulted in getting burned. 

“Oh you know, the critics are having a heyday with it. They say I might even win my first fashion award. And who is this? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before at one of these parties. Our little singer here rarely brings anyone around anymore,” Cressida stated. Her bright green eyes landed on Anakin as if he was something she wanted to lay claim to. 

“Friend” was an overstatement. You had known Cressida for around two years, but you wouldn’t consider her a close friend. She was someone you partied with to have fun–a member of your social circle but not your inner circle. You had yet to determine her trustworthiness. While Cressida had never crossed you directly, her catty remarks now and then signaled a radar in your brain. 

“This is Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi assigned to watch over me for the upcoming benefit concert,” you explained.

Cressida’s eyes widened slightly. “The Anakin Skywalker? My, you’re even more handsome in person than in the holograms they project on the billboards. I almost didn’t recognize you with that serious look on your face. You shouldn’t glare so much, it’ll only age you faster.” 

The fake smile on your face was beginning to hurt. Why did it annoy you so much that she found Anakin handsome? It was an objective fact that most people would agree with. You ignored the nagging feeling in your stomach. You were here to relax your mind and push away the racing thoughts of Anakin from your mind. If Cressida wanted to flirt with Anakin, so be it. It’s not like he could do anything about it, even if he wanted to. Anakin was a temporary occurrence in your life, something that would only last a short time, just to be forgotten as life moves on. 

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. And you are?” Anakin responded with a short nod to show his thanks for her compliment. Anakin was used to people fawning over his looks. This wasn’t the first time a stranger, female or male, complimented him mere seconds after meeting him. The compliments did fuel his ego, but he never took them to heart as he only cared about what Padme thought. Now that Padme was gone, he indulged in the occasional compliment. Still, this compliment did not sound right coming from the pink lady in front of him. Cressida looked at Anakin like an object, a feeling he very much detested. It reminded him of the way Watto used to look at him. 

“I’m Cressida Calpurnia. I know some people who would love to meet you Anakin,” Cressia announced. “Do you mind if I steal him for a few minutes? I promise I won’t be long. I believe I saw Chione somewhere upstairs waiting for you.” A sickly sweet smile appeared on Cressida’s face as she batted her white eyelashes at you. You knew most people at this party did not give a damn about the war, for they were all vapid and too consumed by the drama in their own lives to think about anything else. It was hypocritical to think, considering you were also one of them, but it was also different because most of the people in this room were nepotism babies born with silver spoons in their mouths. You knew the value of hard work and had some sense of reality, though altered over the last few years as you came into superstardom. 

You knew you couldn’t refuse Cressida’s offer. What grounds did you have to refuse? A twinge of childish jealousy? You were afraid if you denied Cressida’s offer, she would think something was happening between you two. The last thing you needed was Cressida’s gossipy mouth spreading a rumor like that to your social circle. You didn’t care if it affected your reputation, but you didn’t know what Anakin’s consequences could be if the HoloNet tabloids captured a rumor like that.

“Well, I can’t speak for Anakin.” You turned towards Anakin and reassured him, “You can go ahead if you want. I think everyone would be excited to meet someone so famous (ironic considering most people in this room were famous or at least famous adjacent). I’ll just go find Chione upstairs.”  

Anakin didn’t want to go either. He rather stay by your side the entire night. You were the only reason he went to the party in the first place. Anakin only used the excuse of protection to spend more time with you. You didn’t have much time together left, and Anakin knew that once this mission was done, the Council would send him to the farthest corners of the galaxy. Anakin didn’t know if he would ever be able to see you again, so he wanted to soak up your presence as much as possible. He was about to protest and explain to Cressida that he would prefer to stay with you, but she drew her talons in him before he could speak. 

“I promise we don’t bite,” Cressida flirtatiously said before grabbing Anakin by his gloved arm and pulling him toward a couch filled with mutual friends. You mentally swore that you would bite her instead. Cressida’s flirtatious nature normally did not bother you, but she was slowly getting on your nerves now. 

Anakin looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with you, an apologetic look gracing his face before he turned his attention to Cressida and walked away with her. 

“That nerfherder bitch!” Chione exclaimed to you as you recalled the recent interaction between you and Cressida. You both looked in the refresher’s mirror as you retouched your makeup. You already downed a flute of some fizzy hooch, a warm feeling settling over your stomach as you spoke. Drinking always made you loose-lipped, which is why your best friend was currently cursing Cressida.

“You should just avoid him,” Chione shrugged. You could trust Chione with all your secrets, including your crush on the Jedi. You recounted the dilemma–how attracted you were to Anakin, but you couldn’t do anything about it because the Jedi code forbade any attachments. Your forced proximity to him made the situation worse. You couldn’t escape him over the past few rotations. Each day somehow brought the two of you closer together. It was agonizing. The Maker was cruel and taunting. How dare they throw your life into even more of a whirlwind by introducing Anakin Skywalker? Maybe if Anakin was a regular man, you would have pursued him. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Your whole world has shifted off its hinges since Anakin came into your life. You didn’t know what could fix it, except for Anakin being yours. 

“What a load of bantha shit…I don’t know if I can avoid him. That’s what I’ve been telling myself to do! But every time I try, the galaxy pulls us closer. When Gido first told me that they were assigning a Jedi to me, I was scared because I thought it would only bring more trouble. But Anakin…he’s so sweet. We don’t fully know each other yet, but each interaction has brought us closer. I guess I could even consider him a friend. A very handsome friend who I think about more than I should…” you trailed off.  

You intentionally left out your earlier conversation with Anakin. Chione didn’t need to know that sensitive information. A deeper part of you disagreed with Chione’s advice; you didn’t want to avoid Anakin, not when you were slowly unraveling the puzzle that he is. You wanted to know him, even if meant you would eventually break your own heart. You hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a few years, and even then, no one had ever made you the same level of intensity that Anakin did. It was intoxicating, and you wanted more of it. 

“I love you, but it’s for the best. There’s no way you two could possibly be together. Don’t let yourself fall for him, only for you to be disappointed when he won’t leave the space monks for you. You’re better off finding someone else at this party.” Chione gave you a sad half-smile. You returned her smile with a small eye roll. “I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t mean it.”

Another part of you, a more conscious one, flashed blaring signs in your mind. “Stop! Turn around! Imminent danger ahead!” they said. Perhaps it was out of fear. As much as you wanted to fall head first into Anakin, you didn’t want to deal with his aftermath. When he inevitably leaves, there will be no one to pick up the pieces of your heart. You didn’t even think it was possible to fall for someone so fast. Yet here you were. The signs knew this, and so they warned you of the danger slowly encroaching on your heart–heed Chione’s words.

You knew your best friend was right, even if you didn’t want to admit it out loud. You bit your lip and nodded in agreeance. 

Chione then grabbed your head and the two of you walked out of the refresher. You smiled at a few people on the way to the main room. Parties like these were the one of the only few places where you felt normal nowadays. Everyone here was someone, and if they weren’t someone then they were en route to becoming someone. There was a mutual understanding between everyone here–no fawning, no fangirling, and certainly no spilling gossip to the HoloNet. Of course, some people ignored that rule though. 

“Wouldn’t that be rude of me to just leave him? I’m the only reason why he’s here. Plus, I don’t want to leave him with Cressida. She’ll dig her claws into him and never let go,” you questioned. 

“I don’t know. Anakin appears to be having a great time with Cressida. He’s laughing and smiling,” Chione gestured toward the couch.

You whipped your head toward Anakin’s direction. Chione was right. Anakin was sitting there as he told the story of how he had to crashland on the planet of Mygeeto, only to be met with mastiff phalones. Every single person was focused on Anakin, their eyes never leaving his person. You saw a look of wonder on all of their faces. The feeling of jealousy washed over your body for the second time that night. 

You turned away from the sight before it could enrage you anymore. With a nose turned up in the air and a dramatic hair flip, you grabbed Chione again and dragged her to another room in the apartment. If she wanted you to avoid Anakin, fine. You would do exactly that. 

You dragged Chione until you reached the new room where lively, upbeat music was playing and a plethora of people danced together. 

You quickly grabbed two extra flutes of hooch with your free hand and handed one to Chione. You chugged the flute down, slightly cringing at the taste, before placing it on the silver tray of a server passing by. Chione did the same before hollering, “Let’s dance!”

You shot her a flashy smile, and the two of you made your way into the crowd of energetic, sweaty bodies. 

Anakin Skywalker was bored and wanted to get as far away from these people as possible. He thought one or two stories would satisfy their curiosity, but an hour and a half passed since he first sat down and no one was satisfied yet. They wanted to know everything about Anakin. How was life at the Temple? What was it like fighting in the war? Anakin understood their curiosity. He was once a curious boy, and he used to love hearing the tales from the deep space pilots that were stationed on Tatooine. It wasn’t every day that civilians encountered the Jedi, especially now that the Jedi were more off-world than on-world sometimes. It slightly boosted his ego to have an audience so enthralled by him. 

At the same time, they all looked at Anakin like a commodity. They didn’t truly care about what Anakin had to say, or about the war at all. He was simply bragging points to them. Everyone would run to their friends and brag about how they met the famous Hero with No Fear after the party ended. Nothing he said would impact them. Whenever you asked Anakin questions about himself, it was different. You were genuine like you wanted to know more about him and not the persona the Republic created. Anakin was captivated by you, which is why he revealed his origins to you earlier. Not even Ahsoka learned the truth about Anakin’s past directly from Anakin–she learned it from Obi-Wan before their mission on Zygerria. Each moment between you two was marked by a saccharine tenderness. It was a type of tenderness that Anakin missed and craved all the time. Despite being a Jedi, Anakin thought of himself as a loverboy. He loved wholly and completely. And although you two were not in love, Anakin could picture himself harboring deep feelings for you. He was at the edge of the cliff, ready to fall into the deep descent of love. 

Anakin couldn't escape his current company. His jaw was starting to hurt from fake smiling. As a representative of the Republic and the Jedi organization, he couldn’t exactly be rude towards them just because he wanted to escape and spend time with you. Several times throughout his time on the couch, Anakin saw you interacting with other people as you made your way through the party’s various rooms. Each time he tried to make eye contact with you, you adverted his gaze and turned your attention elsewhere.

You couldn’t possibly be avoiding Anakin, could you? Except for Anakin,  it felt like you were avoiding him. You were talking to everyone else but him. Every time he wanted to reach you, he was whisked away into another story. He could have sworn that you purposely turned in the opposite direction every time you made eye contact. But maybe he was overthinking it? Did you see him differently now that you knew he used to be a slave? He felt insecure. No, that couldn’t be it. The way you spoke to him with such empathy signified to Anakin that it wouldn’t affect the way you saw him. He felt it.

Anakin felt paranoid, and he didn’t know why. Why did he care so much anyway? Anakin rationalized with himself. He was supposed to be your protector which is why he was so eager to return to your side. Not because he wanted to talk to you and get to know you more. And definitely not because you were affecting him way more than he would like to admit. 

“...so it true that Jedi aren’t allowed to have sex?” asked a Twi’lek woman to Anakin’s left. Anakin’s eyes widened at the question, and a pretty blush rose to his cheeks. Before he could answer, another woman around the couch protested.

“You can’t just ask people that, Almathea! It’s rude…but do you have sex?” she asked with a seductive raise of her eyebrow. 

Anakin took this moment as a sign to end the conversation and get back to you. He stood up from the couch in all his 6’2 glory. He was so statuesque, his statue and demeanor demanded attention from everyone he encountered. It was no wonder he was being held hostage by Cressida and her crew. 

“My deepest apologies everyone, but I must return to my original duty. I appreciate your curiosity in the Jedi and hope we can cross paths again one day. May the Force be with you all.” Anakin then flashed one last fake smile to the audience before stepping over a few tangled legs and towards the next room. He closed his eyes and narrowed his focus to locate your person. You were still at the party, just in a different room located somewhere in the apartment’s east wing.

The Jedi made his way through the different rooms trying to find you. He passed through people dancing, people playing roulette, some were crying, and some were laughing. It was like a scene from one of Canto Bight’s deluxe, elite casinos. Snippets of gossip and whispers of amazement filtered through Anakin’s ears as he walked closer to your location. 

Anakin finally stopped in another room filled with people socializing. The deep baritone notes of a saxophone mixed with a catchy melody danced around the room, shrouding it in a sultry aura. The lighting in this room was low, and the chandelier hanging from the roof was set to the lowest setting possible. If it weren’t for Anakin’s keen eyesight, he almost didn’t make out your figure. Years of dealing with Tatooine’s sandstorms made Anakin’s eyes adept at finding people and objects in otherwise difficult situations. As a child, Anakin always looked toward the colorful fabrics flying at the top of the slave quarters when an incoming sandstorm was happening. If he could find those colorful fabrics flowing in the wind, then Anakin knew he would be safe for another day. Additionally, Anakin had to have a good eye for whenever he worked on his pod racer or tinkered with droid parts. 

You were in the far corner of the room, dancing with another male. His hands were on your lower back, resting very closely to your tailbone. Your body was pressed against his and your arms hung tightly around his neck. Anakin couldn’t spot the male’s face because his face was buried in the side of your neck as he whispered something into your ear. Anakin desperately wished he knew what the male was saying to you. You giggled in response. Chione was nowhere to be seen. She separated from you as she conversed with one of her other friends. 

Jealousy was the common theme of the night. Earlier in the night, you were jealous at the site of Cressida oogling Anakin. Now, it was Anakin who was jealous. He was jealous that someone else held your attention while Anakin had been craving it all night. Who was this guy? Anakin wondered to himself. Did you have a boyfriend that Anakin didn’t know about? Did he read any signs wrong?  Well, there weren’t too many signs to begin with. Anakin did catch one of your stray thoughts from your initial meeting in which you said he was “kriffing gorgeous.” And Anakin may have felt changes in your emotional state around him, but who was he to assume that was because of him? Like that time he was teaching you how to drive your air speeder and he had placed his hands on top of yours as a guide. He felt a spike in your force signature. Everything else consisted of lingering stares, subtle blushes, or conversation Anakin didn’t want to end.

 Anakin wouldn’t have been wrong to assume you felt something for him, because you did. He just didn’t know it yet. 

The male in front of you was another mutual friend who you met before at a different party. He, Rigel, was a famous musical producer who worked with some of your other musician friends from time to time. Much like Anakin, Rigel had stunning blue eyes. You ran into Rigel with Chione—who decided to play matchmaker by leaving you two alone. You offhandedly mentioned before how you thought Rigel was cute, but that was before Anakin waltzed into your life. 

If you were sober, you would’ve never been caught nearly grinding on someone like this in a public place. It may have been a private party, but just one picture could spread rumors like wildfire. You were more media-trained than that. Plus, it wasn’t in your character to randomly become so intimate with another person so quickly. It looks like you took Chione’s advice a little bit too seriously. Well, that was the goal of coming to this party anyway, right?

Truth be told, you could barely understand what Rigel was whispering in your ear. It didn’t matter either way. Your brain was somewhere else, thinking of Anakin. How badly you wanted to grab him by his face and smash your lips together in front of Cressida. You wanted to run your hands through his silky curls. How did he manage to have perfect hair? What type of shampoo and conditioner did Anakin have access to on the field? After you kissed him, you would lead Anakin away from the party and into an empty bedroom where you would lay him on the bed and straddle him then—Wait! What were you thinking? The hooch was having the opposite effect on you. You drank to forget, not to remember. You opened your eyes and furiously blinked as to forget the thoughts. When you closed your eyes again, your brain automatically went to your previous dreamland. It’s almost like you could hear Anakin’s voice from right next to you. 

“Excuse me,” interrupted a harsh voice. 

You once again opened your eyes only to be met with the site of an annoyed Anakin. You quickly separated yourself from Rigel, who removed his face from your neck and stared unimpressively at the Jedi. Your heart skipped a beat—you weren’t expecting Anakin to appear. 

“A-anakin! This is Rigel…” you sheepishly introduced the two. Karking hell, this was so embarrassing! You hated that you were caught in such a compromising position, especially from the person you were trying to avoid. You then pointed to Anakin and took a deep breath before finishing, “Rigel, this is General Anakin Skywalker.” Your body turned into an inferno as the embarrassment rose. You were too drunk for this right now. 

The two men sized each other up through their stares before nodding to acknowledge each other.

“We were…um…we were just-“ you stumbled over your words as you tried to find the right ones. Anakin noticed your eyes looked glazed over and a little droopy. 

Rigel stepped in to save your sentence. “We were just getting to know each other. Perhaps you can go back to telling your little Jedi stories? I heard they were very entertaining.”

“Perhaps not. Pop star, I believe it’s time we retreat back to your apartment,” Anakin responded with as much sass as possible. Anakin rather freeze alive on Hoth than allow himself to leave you with some seedy character. Anakin asserted dominance by calling you by the nickname he gave to you. He was saying to Rigel that he knew you enough to have a nickname, which was more claim than Rigel had. Not that you were anything to claim, but Anakin’s possessiveness jumped at the sight of you two. Had you told Anakin that you wanted to stay with Rigel, he would’ve left you alone. You were a grown woman after all. However, Anakin’s statement left no room for argument. 

You bid Rigel goodbye, before turning to Anakin and hiccupping. You were annoyed. Was this the Maker’s way of telling you that you were meant to be with Anakin? If it was meant to be with Rigel, then it wouldn’t have been interrupted, right? Or was that just your drunk mind trying to rationalize what just happened? It was definitely the latter, you just didn’t recognize it yet.

“Let’s go,” you stated flatly. You began walking. You regretted your choice of wearing such an elaborate floor-length gown, seeing as you had to lift the dress so it wouldn’t drag on the floor. It was no issue earlier, but now that you were drunk, it was becoming a hassle. You couldn’t balance yourself and hold your dress at the same time, especially in the heels you were wearing. 

“How much have you had to drink?” Anakin asked as you stumbled to the entrance of the party. Your lipstick was smudged from all the drinks you had, and in your drunken stupor, you failed to reapply it. You couldn’t count how many drinks you downed. Was it seven or ten? It didn’t even matter anymore because five was your usual stopping point. 

“I don’t even know. Probably too much for my own good.” You weren’t watching where you were walking as you said that. A piece of your dress slipped under your heel causing you to almost tumble toward the floor. Anakin caught you by your waist before you could fall. It seemed Anakin had a knack for catching you. You straightened yourself off and continued walking.

“Come here for a second,” Anakin said from behind. He stood with his weight on one side, hips beckoning you toward him. 

“Why? I thought it was time for us to go,” you rebuttal.  

“It’s in your best interest to come back, not mine.” 

You turned around and faced Anakin with a sassy look on your face. He only bent down and grabbed a hold of your ankle, “If you must know, I’m doing you the pleasure of taking off your footwear so that you can walk in comfortably. You’ve had too much to drink to walk in these without injuring yourself.” He was talking about a few moments ago when you almost faceplanted into the floor. 

Instead of being grateful for Anakin’s chivalry, you decided to tease him instead. It was the only way you knew how to react to his kindness without instantaneously combusting. You were embarrassed still, but you tried to push those feelings aside. You hated dwelling on embarrassment—sometimes it was best to move on without acknowledgment.

“Why do you speak like that?” you asked with a tilt of your head. 

Anakin was confused by your question, “Speak like what?”

“You know. You speak so…melodramatic. Like everything you’re saying is a declaration. Your cadence is so fancy. Why If I didn’t know you were a Jedi, I would mistake you for a wealthy socialite,” you giggled. “It’s quite funny actually. You belong on the Opera stage, ready to declare to the entirety of Coruscant. You would be the Hero of the play.” 

Anakin looked at you with a deadpan stare. “Do I really speak like that?” It’s something he had never noticed before. Obi-Wan’s mannerisms must’ve rubbed off on Anakin more than he noticed. As you were speaking, Anakin was undoing the straps of your heels. “Well, If I’m the hero, then you must be the damsel in distress.” 

You cleared your throat and began mimicking Anakin again, “I do suppose that you speak like that. Why I go by Anakin Skywalker, and I’m a Jedi Knight. I’ve been on many perilous journeys, but the most perilous of them all has been to watch you. No battle droid or distant planet could compare to the chaos of handling an intergalactic singer.” You tried replicating the huskiness and cadence of Anakin’s voice. Instead, it came out sounding like you were recovering from a nasty cough. You poked fun at yourself too.

Anakin laughed at your brazen attempt to make fun of him. He dropped your ankle and grabbed your heels. They hung by their straps as his fingers gripped them with care. 

“Very funny. Are you sure you weren’t written by a playwright? You should be more comfortable now that we’ve removed these atrocious heels. You should be able to walk without any hassle now.” You didn’t get a chance to say thank you to Anakin as he started walking toward the entrance.

You lingered behind for a second, taking in the moment. Anakin was too sweet. It was an action so simple yet it had your heart bursting all the same.

Anakin turned around when he felt you weren’t next to him. “Where are you going, pop star?”

You sent Anakin a small smile before responding, “Sorry, I’m coming.” You began walking to him. The two of you exited the party and walked toward the landing bay, where your airspeeder was patiently waiting for you.

When you and Anakin got home, it was dark. The apartment lights were off. The only light that filtered through were the lights from Coruscant’s skyline.  A delicate moonlight washed over the apartment, creating a serene and safe atmosphere. 

You felt exhausted. The effects of the alcohol wore down on the way home, and you were mostly silent. Chinone left you a message stating she got home safely, so you had nothing to worry about. 

You recalled tonight’s events as you rested your eyes. From the intimate moment with Anakin at the start of the party, your scathing feelings toward Cressida, to Chione telling you to forget Anakin, and then being caught with another male by Anakin. Your head was all over the place, and the fast pace of the airspeeder did not help. You would have a lot to think about in the morning. You just wanted to get home for now and drift into Lalaland. 

The speeder came to a slow halt as Anakin lowered the vehicle onto your landing platform. He helped you out of the speeder and the two of you went inside your apartment. This night completely drained you and you wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.

Before retreating to your room, you wanted to say one more thing to Anakin.

“Anakin? I just wanted to give you my thanks—not only for coming to the party with me but for opening up and not letting me go home with Rigel. And for the heels,” you confessed

“It was no issue. That’s what my job is for—ensuring your comfort and protection for the time being.”

“Still…thank you. When you first came here, I was scared that it would bring trouble, but you’ve been nothing but helpful and kind. Your mother raised you well.” 

In one final act, you leaned and placed a gentle kiss on Anakin’s cheek. You let your lips linger for a moment before separating. You would tell yourself it was the last remaining bits of alcohol in your system tomorrow, but you knew better than that. It was an intentional act you hoped could convey your feelings when you could verbally not.

i saw someone on tiktok say they saw jackson wang host a party in a harry potter fanfic and somelse commented they made jackson wang a senator in their star wars fanfic so i thought i would do the same...iykyk

taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader @attheairportbar @doplit

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

[becauseimanicequeen]

Because you like color related questions: What is your favorite color and what ql use it best?

Hi, Anon.

I love the question, but...

How can this artist who loves colors possibly choose a favorite among the things that give her life?

I know I'm crazy, but not that crazy! lol

So I'll just change the question a bit and steer this post in the direction I want (and give you more than you asked for). Okay? Okay!

I'm practically obsessed with one half of the traditional color wheel. And that's everything from purple, going into blue, and up to blue-green (or what most people call turquoise or teal, the latter which seems to have become really popular in the past few years). Throw some pink in there, preferably the neon/fluorescent kind, and black and you basically have my art, lol.

To summarize, though, my favorite colors are:

Purple

Blue

Blue-green (or what most people call turquoise or teal)

Pink

Black

With that said, let's move on to the second part of your question.

I can't remember if I've ever seen blue-green (turquoise/teal) in a QL (but my memory is fucked, so help me if you want).

When it comes to the other colors, I will share some moments from QLs where the colors are particularly beautiful (in my eyes), used in a great way in a particular scene, or when there's a color-coded character I like rather than focus on the use of a particular color throughout a whole series (the latter would turn into a thesis for each color, lol, and I just don't have the time or energy for that right now).

Let's start with black and then move through the others according to the color wheel.

I love black because it goes well with every other color. But I also love black because it's a color that can be used in shows/films without using it. And that's by filming night scenes.

I love night scenes in shows/films because it's many times used for the big emotional scenes, from confessions to breakups and everything in between.

The black might not be evident in all these particular images I've included below, but all these scenes play out in the dark of evening/night.

Like in To Be Continued when Ji practically confesses that he likes Achi but gets rejected (kind of):

When Zhou Shu Yi confesses his love for Gao Shi De in We Best Love: No. 1 For You:

Shu Yi is also one of my favorite QL characters, and he often wears black.

When Sailom confesses that he likes Namnuea in Wedding Plan:

Which I think has a deeper meaning since he can only ever truly be himself in the dark or in the company of Yiwa through a large part of the series.

Then there's Phat loosing his shit in La Pluie:

He finally got to unload some of the shit that had been weighing on him for so long, and I loved that scene so much.

And then there's My Stand-In that practically show a multitude of different emotions in their night scenes:

And Ming wears black a lot, which I've written about in this post about his clothes in particular, and in this one where I've also written about Joe's blue.

I could spend a whole post on night scenes, but I won't because I need to save some images for the other colors, lol.

So, moving on to pink!

For me, there are two characters/shows that stand out with the use of pink. The first one is Tankhun in KinnPorsche:

He's so ridiculous, such a drama queen, and that's exactly why I love him so much. And, he's constantly surrounded by pink.

Then there's Wandee Gooday. This series didn't just use pink, but neon pink, and I will forever and ever love this one for that:

The one above has some purple in it too, but the color on their skin, pillows, etc., has more red than blue in it, which (in my eyes) means it's verging more towards pink.

There's also this softer pink that's in contrast to the other images above. They're using different values, intensities, and hues of pink to create different moods/vibes in their scenes, and I love that.

Other honorable mentions (but I have to save on the images since tumblr only gives me 30... lol):

Tharn and Phaya's first (real) sex scene in The Sign (not the dreams). The neon pink is divine in that scene.

Maybe in Secret Crush on You as well. I can remember that there were neon lights. And, when there are neon lights, there has to be pink, right? (I will be rewatching this series for my Pride Month celebrations soon, so I might get to see how wrong I am, lol.)

The pink neon lights in Ai Di's club in Kiseki: Dear to Me were also divine.

Now, let's move on to purple.

I obviously have to mention Dee from Wandee Goodday here, because he just looks so good in purple:

Also, both Dee and Yak look good in purple:

Please, Wandee Goodday, give me more purple!

Other than this, I can't remember purple that well. So, let me share three examples that are a bit purple-ish. The first one is Kiseki: Dear to Me where the lights sometimes verge towards purple.

Then we have two different series where there are blueish and pinkish lights that, kind of, mix and create purple. The first one is this scene in KinnPorsche:

And the other one is this scene in Love in the Air:

They look really similar, don't they? And I absolutely love those colors together. That lighting is divine.

Next, we have blue.

Blue is used a lot. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot.

So I had to narrow it down a lot and choose a couple of blue characters and moments.

Let's start with this scene from Deep Night:

This is the scene where Pan and Ken start flirting with Seji like it's a competition. But what I love about this shot in particular (besides from the blue) is that Pan, who is the one who brings up poly, shows up between Seji and Ken in the shot (and in several scenes throughout the series). He's the one who brought all three of them together. And I love that he often stands in the middle. Also, he looks so good in blue.

Then there's Ji in To Be Continued who is surrounded by blue basically all the time because he's a blue character. And he looks really good in blue.

And then there's King from Bed Friend who is also gorgeous in all the blue hues:

Then I love this moment in Two Worlds:

These two got about 10 seconds in the finale, which was the highlight of this episode for me. Both of them practically propose to each other at the same time, both are dressed in blue and standing in front of those blueish pillars. I loved every single second of this scene as if each second was a whole hour long.

Then there's a whole series called Blue Boys, which meant I had to watch it as soon as I heard about it in April/May. The second part started yesterday with a new episode and I have to say that I really love this short series and its vibe (their chemistry is great, btw). And Nami's blue shirt:

That blue is gorgeous.

And then, last but not least, there's one of my favorite blue characters, and that's Saengtai in La Pluie:

I love this blue boy and his yellow boyfriend so much. They're one of my favorite couples in the QLs I've watched.

As an introvert (passing off as an extrovert, which makes me want to shut up and hide on purpose most of the time to protect my energy, lol) I can absolutely relate to Tai not wanting to socialize with everyone all the fucking time. He's chosen the people who get to drain energy from him (I wish I was that good at putting up boundaries, lol) so I'm not as annoyed by his silence as many others who watch this might be.

Yes, he hurt Phat's feelings. Yes, Phat had every right to run away when he was hurt. Yes, it was glorious to see Tai switching on his loyalty like never before when he realized how much he'd hurt Phat. And that whole episode of him searching for Phat and losing it when he found him healed parts of me I didn't even know were broken (lol).

If you haven't seen La Pluie, I recommend watching it.

Anyway...

There you have it, Anon. My favorite colors (because I can't choose one) and some of my favorite characters/moments including those colors.

Thank you for your ask.

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

18.

As if on cue, someone cleared their throat behind me. Shivers went down my spine. I turned my head and was met with the most piercing brown-eyed gaze. He looked at me with such intensity, I couldn't help but hold my breath.

He stood tall next to me, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt with a white ribbed tank top underneath and a pair of jeans.

"Hey Kyle," Lily greeted with a knowing smile, standing from her seat on the side table. She rubbed my arm as if to say 'This is who it was.'

"Hi. Mind if I steal Hannah from you for a second?" Kyle smiled softly. My eyes remained trained on him as he interacted with my best friend.

"Not at all," she replied, pushing my arm lightly as she walked away. I quickly cast a pleading look in her direction, but she didn't see. Turning my attention to Kyle, I said a quiet prayer that this was going to go well.

"I've been trying to find you all night," he spoke lowly, looking deeply into my eyes.

"W-why?" I stammered. I looked quickly to my left, hoping to find comfort in Lily's presence nearby, but instead, she was nowhere to be found. She must've known what he was doing, otherwise, she wouldn't have left me.

"I saw Julian try to talk to you earlier. I wanted to make sure you were alright," he mumbled. "We uh, also - Hannah, need to talk."

"I don't disagree with you on that," was all I could muster.

"Do you wanna, I don't know, maybe go somewhere more quiet?" Kyle suggested. "That sounds creepy, I just mean-"

"No, yeah, I'm okay with that," I murmured. I could see that my change of heart was unexpected. I could tell he expected me to tell him to fuck off. 

"Let's just uh, leave, I guess," he stammered. I nodded, then proceeded to follow him outside, past Lance, and down onto the sidewalk. I walked alongside him for a few moments before he paused. "Wait, where are we going?"

"We could go to mine," I offered. "It's literally one block this way." I pointed to my right.

"That's fine."

I shot Lily a text on the way there, letting her know what was going on, although I think she had it all figured out. Kyle nor I spoke a word for the rest of the walk.

We got to the door of the apartment and I nearly forgot how to work a key to open the door. When I finally got it open, his eyes widened slightly at the sight of our place. He had never been, so I was sure it was jarring for him. 

He settled in on the couch. I discarded my angel wings by the door and turned on some music to ease any tension, but it seemed unnecessary. Or maybe distracting. We really did need to have a serious conversation. I noted how soft he looked in the warm lighting of the room. I crossed the floor and sat on the opposite end of the sofa from him, my feet planted firmly on the floor in an attempt to keep them from running away.

"This is a - uh, nice couch," he muttered, running his hands over the upholstery next to him. I cocked an eyebrow

"Yeah?" I laughed wryly. "I, -uh stole it off the side of the road. Cleaned it, of course. Loved the color. Purple's my favorite." Overexplaining my couch and its origins. Nice going, Hannah.

"It's soft, uh, I don't know," he chuckled. "I'm just a fan of couches." He shifted uncomfortably and shook his head at himself while looking down at his lap.

"L-look-" I started.

"I just-" Kyle spoke at the same time. He exhaled and looked up at me. "You first."

"I was just going to say that, uh, thanks," I uttered, unsure how to string my words together. "Thanks for, like, the other night. L-lily told me what you did."

His eyes softened. He sniffed, rubbing his nose with his thumb and index fingers. "I'm just glad you're okay," he replied, his voice barely a whisper. "Timing was good on our part."

"And you somehow knowing where I went," I jabbed, slightly sarcastic.

He cleared his throat and laughed slightly. "I may have seen you go in there, yes."

"Spying on me, Spencer," I taunted, poking his bicep. Except, he didn't smile. In fact, he sobered, his expression changing to one of complete and utter seriousness. He looked down at his hands in his lap.

"I'm sorry, Hannah. I can't even begin to explain how sorry I truly am," he spoke, his voice catching on his words.

"Kyle-"

"No, I know. I know it sounds like bullshit. I know that sorry is what I should say. I know that no number of apologies will take away what I did," he interrupted. "Listen, Hannah," he leaned forward to better meet my eyes. "I'm so tired of the frat act. I'm some blonde guy who wears frat polos and khakis. I hang around with douchebags. You're, like, so fucking cool. You're so above all of the college social politics. The bullshit I deal with every day." 

I couldn't help but scoff at his words. I pulled my feet up from the ground to sit cross-legged on the sofa and turned to face Kyle entirely.

He continued, after a beat of silence. I didn't speak. "You're cool without trying. That's the thing. You just have it all figured out. And I know you're above all the frat garbage. You know it, too. I see the way you looked through me from the beginning. You still do. But worse now."

"Kyle, that's not-"

"You've always been someone I needed to know. I have never wanted anyone's approval more," Kyle spoke lowly. "Do you realize that your smile is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen? You don't give it out easily. Not many people get to see it. But when you smile at someone, it's like- the greatest reward in the history of the world."

I shook my head, bewildered. "I- I guess I didn't realize you'd noticed me before."

"Noticed?" he scoffed. "This is going to sound so lame, but I felt like I wouldn't be able to win you over. I'm an insecure frat guy. That stupid fucking bet meant nothing. I wanted to know you. All along. My pride was hurt when I agreed to it. When you, uh, yelled at me at that party."

"I-"

"But I wanna be someone you've never seen before," Kyle professed, leaning forward and putting a hand on my knee. "I want you to know the guy behind what you see. Behind your preconceived notions of me. The guy that totally hates what he did to you."

"I don't know what to say, Kyle I-" I trailed off, shaking my head, staring deeply into his genuine gaze.

"When I saw you in that room with him on top of you, god, I could have murdered him," he murmured. "But I realized in that moment just how strongly I feel toward you. It hit me that somewhere along the way, I fell so fucking in love with you. My heart is so full of you, I feel like I can't even call it my own."

I leaned into his face and pressed my lips to his. There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths started playing over the living room speaker. Kyle relaxed into my touch and scooted closer to me, wrapping his arms around me. We made out hungrily for what felt like both a second and an eternity.

He then leaned forward even more, guiding me to lay back, and positioning himself on top of me. I pulled at his overshirt, encouraging him to take it off. He looked down at me as if to say 'You sure?' then pulled the fabric off smoothly and threw it across the room.

Kyle's body was way more athletic than I had imagined. We had made out many times before, but we had never gone this far. The muscles in his toned shoulders were apparent. His biceps were large and the veins in his arms protruded visibly. His strong hands found their way to the top of my dress, and without thinking, I sat up slightly to tug the straps off and pull it down, exposing my bra.

Suddenly feeling exposed, showing my bra in the front room and all, I stopped kissing Kyle. "We uh, we should move to my room," I whispered, smiling. "Just in case Lily comes home."

"I don't know that I can wait," he rumbled, stooping down to pepper kisses up and down my neck and chest.

It was in my best interest to protest, but the feeling of his soft lips upon my breasts put me in a trance. I pushed his head back, though. "I will simply die if she walks in on this. Let's go," I demanded. He hopped off of me and helped me up. I led him back into the apartment and opened the door to my room for him. He walked through and swiftly grabbed me, pulling me in roughly behind him.

I gasped as he pushed me backward, pinning me up against the door, and clicking it shut with my body weight. As his lips met mine, I fumbled behind me, locking the door.

I felt my way down to his pants and palmed his erection through the fabric. He whimpered at the touch. I undid the button and unzipped his jeans, and Kyle took the work of pulling them off of himself. I took that time to slide my dress all the way off, tossing it behind me. He stopped to regard me in just my underwear. He chuckled and shook his head.

"What?"

"You're so fucking hot," he breathed wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and walking me over to my bed. We both flopped down, I on my back and Kyle on top of me once more. I continued kissing him and put my hand down his boxers. 

"Okay?" I asked. He nodded in reply, inhaling sharply when my fingers wrapped around his cock. I pumped his erection, reveling in his moans and whines. 

"Fuck," he spat. I removed contact, making Kyle grunt loudly. 

"One sec," I whispered, reaching back to the side table next to my bed. I fumbled with the drawer, opening it to grab a spare condom. I handed it over with a smirk. "Didn't think I'd ever use these but damn am I happy to have 'em right now."

"Thank god you remembered," he sighed. He slid his boxers down and opened the package with his teeth, guiding the rubber over his member. Then, he pulled my panties down and guided my legs apart. I yelped when I felt his dick enter me. It was much larger than I anticipated.

"You okay?" he panted, beginning to hit his stride.

"Mmhmm," I affirmed through gritted teeth. I threw my head back, feeling my walls tighten around him. His thrusts got deeper, hitting the innermost parts of me. We both grunted, gasped, and moaned at the contact.

"Shit, I'm gonna come," Kyle groaned. He stroked a few more times before coming with a whimper. I felt warmth spread in my middle. He pulled out and stood to clean up. I laid on the bed for a moment, watching his toned back ripple under his thin tank as he pulled his boxers back on. 

He handed me my own underpants upon his return, a shy grin on his face, and a pink flush in his cheeks. I chuckled at him as I slid them back on. He spun around and continued searching the floor for something.

"Are you looking for your shirt?" I asked, noticing his struggle. "It's in the living room."

"Ah, fuck," he replied quietly. "I don't need it." He joined me back in bed, snaking his arms around my middle.

"Holy fuck," I gasped, something dawning on me. I whipped my head to face him. "Your costume tonight. You were Romeo. 1996 Romeo and Juliet."

"Your best friend tipped me off," he said with a wink. "It's a favorite of mine as well."

Previous Part | Next Part

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Treebark Week — Frost

part one (Build/Divine) | part two (you are here) | part three (Sweet) | part four (Hair/Picnic)

An elemental fae like Martyn shifted with the seasons—he was best suited for the spring and summer (in that he looked the most human, then, provided you ignored the leaves in his hair), his skin shifting to a dull gray in the fall, and a bright, hypothermic blue in the winter. It’s how it always was, until he was dropped into the Life games—something about the code constricted him, keeping him that peachy tone, and with his hair covering his ears, one could assume he was wholly human, which is what the server did. 

He didn’t fault them for it—even Timmy, and Grian, and BigB, who should’ve known better, it’d been a few years since he last saw them, so of course they wouldn’t realize, and Martyn quite liked keeping a few cards close to his chest, so he didn’t correct anyone who claimed he was one of the few—if only—humans on the server. 

The whole “falling forever” if not in one of the games certainly shoved the thought of correcting anyone out of his mind, regardless, because he was so rarely called a human anyways, and he thought Ren got that he wasn’t human, what with the whole “you can’t turn me into a werewolf, it won’t work” thing.

But that didn’t change the surprise on his, or the other Hermits faces when he was invited on to visit and was visibly covered in a layer of frost. 

“Whoops,” Martyn said, having taken a tumble out of the rift he got in through. “Didn’t mean to fall for you lot.”

His words did not make the staring any less intense, and he shifted under their scrutiny. “…do I have something on my face? My shirt?” He glanced down, and then blinked. “Oh. It’s winter, is it?”

He brushed off any of their questions with a well timed joke, trying to make himself look good enough that perhaps they’d let him stay a little longer, integrate himself a bit as he scanned the crowd for his king Ren. He was, just like the last time he saw him, next to False (who was perfectly nice, really, if Martyn ignored the pulsating jealousy in his stomach when he saw them together), but at least he was looking in his direction, brow furrowed as he glanced between them.

The rift was rippling again, though, signaling that someone else was coming through and so Martyn stepped aside, letting the Hermits greet the next guest. He was happy for the new distraction, anyways, letting himself be swallowed by the crowd if only so he could peer at Ren without anyone scrutinizing his behavior. 

He didn’t get that chance, though, as a clawed hand reached forward to grab his wrist and tug him closer, out of the crowd, and he found himself blinking up at a much taller than he remembered Ren. 

“Wow, you’re tall. I hadn’t realized—the Life games really nerf us all, don’t they?”

Ren grinned down at him, still looking a bit awkward, but his comment definitely seemed to put a few pieces into their places. “Oh, er, yes, I’d forgotten that you hadn’t—you’re very blue, is that what you normally look like?” He still hadn’t let go of Martyn’s wrist, fingers pressed against Martyn’s pulse, which he was trying very hard to ignore that it was racing.

“Nah, not all the time. I’m just a very wintery boy right now, is all. Comes with the fae package.” He wriggled his fingers on his free hand, as if to demonstrate. “You lot caught me during the worst months, unfortunately. If I had known it was winter, I might’ve had second thoughts.” 

Of course, that wasn’t strictly accurate—Martyn would’ve shown up regardless, if it meant getting out of the void for a bit—a chance to stretch his legs, and, of course, Ren was here—right in front of him!—to talk to and joke around with.

Ren still hadn’t let go of his wrist. “I suppose,” he said, thoughtfully, “that we should’ve called it Blue Winter, instead, me Hand.” 

His words made Martyn wheeze out a surprised laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Milord,” he mock protested, “was red for your colors, and the blood you spilled to protect us!”

Ren grinned right back down at him, finally letting go. “But you, me Hand, are blue like the frost that protected us! We mustn’t forget your work in the pack. Er. Side note: how long will you be blue, exactly?”

“Whenever winter ends and the grass thaws, I’ll get my more spring-y colors back, maybe grow some flowers, you know how it is.”

Ren’s hand came up, then, to caress his cheek, and his eyes peered down at Martyn through his shades. The look was striking, and Martyn couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next— “‘course, there are faster ways to warm me up.” 

False, who was still stood right nearby, thanks, let out a groan, but Ren’s eyes narrowed, calculating. “Well, if that’s what it takes, I suppose I can prove myself very valuable to your cause.” His words were booming, carried well, and Martyn, although he couldn’t currently blush, definitely felt like he should be. 

“Oh, well, if you’re offering—“

Ren dropped his hand away from Martyn’s face, and nodded, more to himself than anything. “Let’s get you warmed up, shall we, Hand?”

——

“You know, this wasn’t what I expected,” Martyn said, words muffled a bit, thanks to the fur currently trying to make its way into his mouth.

Ren, who couldn’t speak, on account of currently being a giant wolf, just thumped his tail lazily in reply. 

False, who had no idea why she had come along, but was at least not currently being laid on, unlike Martyn, took her hand away from Ren’s head (eliciting a whine) to poke Martyn in the cheek. “Shush. I think I’m already starting to see the pink come back to your cheeks.”

[bellatrixobsessed1]

I Am Blackened Bones (Part 21)

Today I learned that a group of penguins can be called a waddle. 

Katara inhales sharply, her lungs are refreshed by cool, clean air. If she breathes deeply enough she will inhale little flakes of snow. And those flakes fall in abundance today. Wind comes in light, loving gusts that welcome her home. Her tummy flutters with the falling snow; she hadn’t realized just how much she had missed home and it’s blustery weather until she hears the shifting of the snow beneath her feet when climbs down from Appa’s saddle. 

Sokka follows her down and Aang follows after. Toph lands in the snow next to him and Zuko lingers with Azula. Azula who is peering over the saddle with an expression that is both curious and skeptical. 

“She’s never seen snow before.” Zuko remarks. 

“The spirit Azula or the human Azula?” Toph asks.

“Both of them.” Zuko replies. “I don’t think that human Azula wanted to see it, she never liked the cold. Not even the idea of it.” 

Spirit Azula is a different matter altogether. That look of trepidation fades and with remarkable enthusiasm she leaps right off of Appa. Her landing is nimble and agile, so graceful that Katara thinks that human Azula has decided to make another appearance. 

But the smile on her face is much too cheerful to not belong to the spirit. 

Any trace of her prior suffering seems to be long gone and if the long nights they had put in, in order to get here in a timely manner have left her tired and drained she certainly doesn’t show it.  

“Welcome to the Southern Water Tribe.” Sokka announces. 

“Maybe we should start our welcome with getting some proper winter clothing?” Zuko wraps his arms around himself. Between he, Azula, and Aang, Katara can’t tell who is shivering the most intensely. “After that, I have to write a letter to Mai, she’s probably tearing her hair out and contemplating a divorce.”

“Yeah.” Katara agrees. “We’ll stop by our home, greet Gran Gran, and then we can find some warmer clothes.”

“We can get a bite to eat too.” Sokka declares. 

“And you can get started on your letter.” 

.oOo.

“Stubborn one, that one is.” Gran Gran remarks of Azula. Katara  has spent the better part of the morning and continues to spend time trying to convince her grandmother that the princess is quite harmless at the moment. She can only imagine how the rest of the tribe is going to react when word spreads more fully.

“She’s just not used to having to wear so many layers.” Katara says. And from the disgruntled look on her face, the crease between her brows and that soft pout on her lips, the waterbender would wager that she finds the layers to be restrictive and uncomfortable.

Getting the Azula bundled up is probing to be quite a task. The spirit wants to throw herself face first into the snow, chase the penguins, watch the ice-fishermen load their supplies into their canoes, ride in a canoe for herself…anything but sit still and wait for Katara to finish buttoning her coat and tying her scarf.

“Don’t tell me that you aren’t getting cold.” Katara tries. “Doesn’t it hurt to not wear gloves?”

Azula shakes her head. “I’m used to it.”

“Used to it?”

“It feels sort of like the fire did but cold and less painful.” Azula replies. 

“You know that it isn’t a good thing when your hands and feet get so cold that they feel like they are burning. That means you’re going to get frostbite.” Katara cautions. 

“Frostbite?” 

Katara nods. “Your fingers will turn this black-blue color and then we’d have to amputate them to save the rest of your hand. It isn’t pleasant. Gran Gran can tell you!” The old woman gives a soft grunt. Katara frowns to herself. “And I saw it happen once when I was a little girl; these fishermen got lost in a blizzard. One of them had holes in his mittens…” she shudders. “I don’t want that to happen to you, you’ve already been through a lot, okay.”

“Okay.” 

“So let me finish helping you put your coat on and be careful.”

“Okay, Katara.” She smiles. “You’ll take me to see the penguins and the boats after this, yes?”

Katara returns that smile in spite of the unease creeping back in. Azula’s voice is pleasant, it always had a soothing lilt to it a softness. But hearing her speak so sweetly, so innocently chills her more deeply than the most desolate parts of the tundra could. And that she is so unsettled by Azula speaking kindly brings about a greater sense of unrest; to know that Azula hadn’t known warmth or kindness until after she had disappeared. 

Katara pats her shoulders. “You’re good to go.”

Azula takes her hand and gives her arm a good tug. “Well let’s go then, before the penguins fly away!” 

“Penguins are flightless.” 

This stops Azula in her tracks. “But they are birds? Correct?”

“They are, yes.” Katara nods. “Flightless birds.”

“Flightless birds…” Azula repeats. “Well what is the point of being a bird if you cannot fly?” She pauses. “I’m like a penguin.” She concludes after an extended period of thinking. 

“How do you figure that?” Katara inquires as they approach the waddle of penguins.

“Penguins are birds that can’t fly. I am a firebender who can’t bend fire. I am a penguin.” 

“You’re like a penguin.” Katara corrects.

“Mmm hmm, yes, I just said that.” Azula nods. She gives Katara’s arm another pull.

“We have to approach them slowly if you don’t want them to waddle away from us.” She mentions. But Azula has already dropped her arm and is rapidly but quietly approaching one of several penguins. Once again, Katara’s tummy flutters. It reminds her of Aang, when they still had some room to be goofy kids. When his eyes were still full of unabashed optimism and untainted by the grimness of a war that had stolen all of their childhoods. Before they had fallen in love and then out of it. 

Sometimes she misses being the Avatar’s lover, his playful spirit and the late nights that she spent cuddled in his arms. She misses the way that he could always get her to try something new, experience something delightful for the first time. The way that he used to beam at her and how his eyes always closed when he grinned wide enough. 

The way that Azula looks at her now. “I caught one, Katara!” 

She shouldn’t be surprised, Azula has always been swift and efficient. The penguin that she holds up is a small one. Just a baby. 

“I think that that one is too small for penguin sledding.”

“Penguin…sledding?”

Katara’s stomach drops and her cheeks flush. “It’s…it’s just something that Aang and I used to do. Nevermind.”

“I would like to know what that is.” Azula requests, a hint of authority slipping into her voice. Katara shudders. But Azula hugs the penguin to her chest and coos at it and Katara’s dread dissipates. She thinks that spirit Azula doesn’t even know how intimidating she can be when she uses Azula’s voice the wrong way.

“It’s like regular sledding but you do it with a penguin.”

“What is a sledding?”

“Sledding is…well you find a small hill or slope and then you slide down it on a sled. Sokka and I always made ours out of wood, but you can make one with other materials. 

Azula’s eyes absolutely twinkle at this prospect. “Can we go regular sledding?”

“I thought that you wanted to pet the penguins.” 

“They have been pat.” Azula declares. “This one has anyways. Now I would like to sled. Without the use of penguins.”

“Oh alright.” Katara sighs. But only because she knows that soon they are going to have to have a few more serious talks. She might as well let Azula enjoy her time here before they delve back into what to do about her predicament. The one that she seems content to ignore now that it is not causing her physical distress.

.oOo.

It had been quite daunting at first; everything is so open and vast. It is still at least a touch disquieting in its endless spaciousness. She has no trees to hide behind should she finds herself afraid, no roots to nestle in nor mosses and moist dirt to inhale the scent of when she could use some comfort. 

Azula finds that Katara is right, the cold does start to hurt after a while. It is getting nippy with her cheeks. Cheeks that are now a vivid red. Her nose is growing sniffly too. And there is a tingly throbbing in both her nose and cheeks that is different from any other sensation that she has felt thus far. 

Tapping into her counterpart’s memories does not serve her well this time. And conversing with her, unhelpful at the best of times, is entirely useless. She only offers a half-hearted shrug and a, “better you than me.” 

“You’re getting cold, aren’t you?” Katara asks.

Azula nods. 

“We’ve been out here for hours, I’m surprised that you didn’t ask to go inside sooner.” 

“I didn’t ask to go inside.” Azula laughs. “I want to go down the hill again!” She finds that she quite likes that little flop that her stomach does when the sled reaches its fastest speed. That little spike of adrenaline that comes with thinking that she is going to fall and the larger rush of it that takes over when she does get thrown from the sled. She has fallen four times now and each time she forgets, for a fragment, that the landing doesn’t hurt. Snow, she finds, is quite fluffy and inviting until it finds its way into her shirt and pants. Then it make her jittery until it melts and the cold subsides some. 

“You’re red as a Fire Nation flag, Azula!” Katara tells her. “I think that it’s time to get you inside. You’re not accustomed to this weather.”

“I like the snow.”  Azula informs Katara. She also rather likes spending time with the waterbender without all of her friends around. Mostly she is glad to be away from Sokka and his disapproving stares. “Will you go on the sled with me?” She asks. “And then we can go inside?”

“Do you want to be in front?” 

“That depends, do you want to fall?”

“Alright, I’ll go in front.” Katara takes her seat. Azula wraps her arms around her and rests her head on her shoulder. “You ready?”

Azula squeezes a little tighter. “Yes.” Katara leans forward and the sled begins its gliding descent. Azula gives a little yelp of surprise as they pick up speed. Now and then a rock or a raised patch of snow gives them a little jostle and her chin lightly knocks against Katara’s shoulder. A particularly large bump has the sled hovering above the ground that comes with that tickle in her belly. That flopping sensation that only settles when the sled comes to a stop. 

The both of them stumble off of the sled laughing. Azula flops backwards onto the show.

“How was that?” Katara asks.

Azula flashes her a grin, “it was perfect.”

[venturethighs]

A/N: It's such a fancy occasion that I thought I'd dress up my posts and everything! I'd do multicolored text, too, if that didn't involve editing the actual HTML makeup of the post. Anyway, happy Vencha Kinktober 2024! I'm gonna enjoy this a little too much. :3

Reader is AFAB as per usual and Venture is AMAB since I'm still having that insatiable craving. 🤤 Written in head canon format.

Day One: Lingerie w/ Rocker!Venture ♡

🖤 You step out of the bathroom and pat your face down a bit more with your dry towel.

🤍 You had just finished your nightly routine, and now you're ready for a good nights sleep... for the most part.

🖤 Your beloved is casually reclining on the hotel bed strumming a few cords on an unplugged guitar as a way to pass the time.

🤍 It's only when you turn to face them do they look up at you.

🖤 Their eyes go wide in surprise. Their heart skips a beat– a soft pulse inside their boxers causes them to shift their guitar to accommodate for it.

🤍 They are red. Ruby red. You can't help but giggle when you realize why.

🖤 "I got something new to sleep in when we were spending the night in Los Angeles. I guess that means you like it?" You smile.

🤍 "Like it? You're gorgeous. Please come here?" They set aside their guitar and make room for you instead.

🖤 They're not sure if it was the way the dark, lacy fabric hugs your figure or the fact you can see everything underneath in such dim lighting– Good GOD– it had to be both, right?

🤍 You were like a gift just waiting to be unwrapped by their inked up hands.

🖤 You throw you legs over their hips and splay your hands against their tattooed chest. You'd never get used to it– all the art and history permanently written on their fawn colored skin for your eyes only.

🤍 "Hm, someone's excited." You tease, feeling the growing erection inside their boxers press up against your clothed sex.

🖤 "I can't help it, you look so good." They squeeze your thighs and hips repeatedly, grabbing a little more flesh each time and filling their rough hands with as much as they can hold.

🤍 You can feel your breath increase from the affection. You begin placing kisses to their pierced lips, feeling the warm metal repeatedly brush against the sensitive nerves of your mouth.

🖤 Their tongue slicks against your teeth and you welcome it in fully as their excitement seemingly strains against their dark cotton briefs.

🤍 "I can't decide if I want to keep you in it, or unwrap you like a little Christmas gift." Their fingers hook underneath your underwear and pull the fabric back, letting it rebound against your skin when they pull back far enough.

🖤 "I'll keep it on just for you. How about that?" You lean into them, enjoying all their affection to the fullest.

🤍 "Sounds perfect, mi vida."

🖤 As your make out session gradually grows more and more heated, the poking between your legs grows more and more intense.

🤍 You tease them by grinding up against the noticeable bulge and they let out the loudest whimper in response.

🖤 You can't help but giggle again. "I love all your noises, you know that?" You tell them.

🤍 "Not as much as I love yours." They insist between wet, teeth gnashing kisses.

🖤 "Mhm. Are you gonna make me scream then?" You snicker. "Louder than all your fans?"

🤍 "Please– I'd love to hear you over the fans any day." Their hands move from your thighs to your breasts, softly playing with your hardened nipples through the fabric to give the touches more friction for your overly frazzled nerves.

🖤 You arch into their touch and dreamily sigh against their flame covered neck, kissing and sucking softly to leave behind a hickey wherever your mouth could land.

🤍 After a couple more minutes of foreplay their patience begins to wear thin. Precome soaks their underwear and they're not about to just forget about it–

🖤 "You're so eager tonight~!" Your arm reaches over towards the nightstand and pulls open the drawer– condoms of every variety available for you to use.

🤍 "Wow. Fancy! What would you like?" You lightly rifle through them all.

🖤 "Surprise me." They snicker.

🤍 Your hand reaches in further and blindly picks one at random. When you pull back, its package indicates its icy hot and ribbed.

🖤 "Never tried one of these before. Hopefully it'll be good!" You free their length from the fabric constraints. More precome beads at the top as they let out heavy breaths of content.

🤍 "Ready?" You wrap your hand around them and pump a few times to bring a little relief.

🖤 "So, so ready." Their head leans into the fluffy hotel pillow.

🤍 You unwrap the condom and slide it onto their throbbing cock and immediately they groan from the sensation of it. A gentle icy sensation settles into their aroused flesh as you position it against your sobbing entrance.

🖤 "Say please." A twisted smile forms on your lips.

🤍 They toss their head back. "Ugh– please?" They beg just how you want them to.

🖤 You sink yourself onto them just as you had promised– feeling the ribbed texture brush up against sweet spot inside of you, just as the cooling feeling begins to turn nice and warm.

🤍 You place each hand atop their shoulders and begin grinding against their inked hips– being extra careful to avoid their hip piercings.

🖤 Their hands slide against your sides and back as you softly bounce away on their aching erection. The pierced tip definitely adds to all the sensory heaven you're experiencing.

🤍 More heated kisses are exchanged while you work on them, their painted fingernails scratching into your dewy skin as they're careful not to rip the lace atop of it.

🖤 You feel them involuntarily thrust upwards into you, forcing themself deeper inside as your grinding becomes more intense as the minutes tick by.

🤍 "Ooh– does dressing up really do that much for you?" You feel their hot breath mingling with yours as pleasure forms on their metal embedded face.

🖤 "I can't help it. You always know just what to wear." They begin returning the neck kisses and hickeys from earlier with much enthusiasm.

🤍 "Are you sure it's not just me, then?" You increase your feral grinding as you grip down harder and harder on their thick length.

🖤 "Maybe. Just maybe." A soft chuckle rises from their chest as you pick up the pace.

🤍 It isn't long afterwards that you feel a sudden warmth flood within you as they release without remorse.

🖤 "That's it. You love finishing inside me, don't you?" You praise them. "So good to me. I love you so much."

🤍 As soon as you pull yourself off of them, their finger pulls back the minimal fabric giving you some semblance of modesty and slides between your overly slick folds to rub against your swollen clit.

🖤 After everything that just happened, it doesn't take very long at all for you to finish, either.

🤍 Yet, those few minutes that they're encircling the most sensitive part of you has you going absolutely feral.

🖤 Heavy breaths, whines, whimpers, dropping their name like a prayer– until you, too, find yourself falling off the edge into utter bliss.

🤍 They'll never get over the way your eyes roll back into your head, either. It's absolutely such a treat for them.

🖤 When all is said and done, you help them clean up with a few Kleenex and discard everything into the trash nearby.

🤍 "Do you need some water? I can grab you one." You offer, laying atop their toned figure.

🖤 "You've done enough. Let me get it, you just lay and look pretty for me." They tell you.

🤍 "Easy enough." You snicker.