#i'm just posting these later and later huh?

[dem1verse]

﹏ ❛ la vie en rose.⠀⠀⠀alucard/adrian tepes.

˖⁺ ⊹୨ ★⠀the one where he falls in love with you all over again.

content disclaimers ╱╱ suggestive fluff. romantic relationship. fem!reader. wc: 523.

YOU HAVE (1) MESSAGE UNREAD !⠀⠀♡⠀⠀“HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY POOKIES I HOPE YOU GET LOTS OF LOVE FROM YOUR SHAYLAS <3333 (ps i imagined reader wearing this. hope it helps with imagery n shit)”

No one ever claimed that dating a dhampir was easy. Alucard loved you deeply, that was clear to see. His heart belonged to you completely. But recently, he had been so busy working that you both struggled to find time to spend together. The special day of love was approaching fast, and you felt a wave of urgency wash over you. In your search for ideas to bring excitement back into your relationship, you turned to Sypha, your trusted friend and confidante, hoping she could help.

                                       ｡ ˚ ︶︶𖤐︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

"And you're sure this will work?"

“Absolutely! I bought it on a whim, and now Trevor won’t leave me alone,” Sypha giggled on the phone.

The suggestion? Fucking pheromone perfume. Initially, you were hesitant due to Alucard's heightened sense of smell, but after some convincing from Sypha, you decided to give it a shot and ordered the product online.

A few days later, the perfume arrived, and you seized the opportunity while Alucard was still at work. With a mischievous grin, you headed to your room to prepare your surprise.

                                       ｡ ˚ ︶︶𖤐︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

"Love, I'm home!" Alucard called out, expecting your usual enthusiastic greeting of tight hugging and suffocating kisses.

Silence.

His brow furrowed in confusion. You were usually there to greet him eagerly at the door. Worry gnawed at him as he made his way upstairs to your shared bedroom, his heart racing with concern.

He opened the door slowly and stopped dead in his tracks. Oh.

You were dressed in a pink see-through nightgown, sitting on your vanity as you sprayed yourself with the sensual mist. Looking in the mirror, you noticed him, his eyes wide like saucers. His jaw was slack, his face reddening with each passing second. You froze on the spot, opting to cover yourself futilely.

"No."

"H-huh?" you asked.

“Don’t do that.” His voice was breathless, almost a pant. A smile crept across your face as you silently thanked Sypha for her idea. Feigning innocence, you replied, “Don’t do what, love?”

Alucard bared his teeth, his fangs glinting. Just what the hell did you do? Not only did you look ravishing, you smelled so good, it drove him mad. He grabbed your wrist, ignoring your protests of ruining your dress.

"You little vixen. You know exactly what I mean." he sneered. "You’re driving me mad." His nose was buried in the crook of your neck, he teased your nape with his tongue. “You like seeing me like this, don’t you?” His eyes bore into yours. “Wrapped around your pretty little finger. It turns you on, doesn’t it?” he whispered. He already knew the answer.

And yet his insides burned with passion. All because of you.

You looked at him. His blonde, luscious hair stuck to his face as he sweated. You always knew Alucard's nose was sensitive, but you never expected to look as whipped as he did now. "I've noticed that I haven't been giving my partner much love," he admitted. "Surely, you'd let me make up for that now?" he begged, his cold hand slowly inching up under your dress.

Oh, you were fucked for sure.

DEMI'S POST-IT⠀❞⠀i wrote this and finished it today bc i wanted to have smth out in time for valentines day (i just noticed its midnight wtf man) but ANYWHORE :D enjoy! i leave the way this ends to your imagination LMFAO

taglist: @seneon @sabrinass @pinkmirth

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hello can I have an ask about reader who came from our world who is a big fan of predators who can read, write and speak their language and fight like them too gets teleported to yautja prime and I guess she was looking around for shelter and she found a clan so she entered their clan grounds hoping she doesn't get killed and she found a pyramid (from what I remember seeing in one of the movies) which turns out to be where the clan has its important meetings. And the elder clan leader let's call him Kar'dokh (if you don't mind) was having meeting with other nearby clans so reader accidently enters the meeting room filled with other clan leaders and their most trusted soldiers standing by their side and the silence was LOUD

Reader: .... 

Kar'dokh and the other clan leaders: .... 

*Kar'dokh gets up about to kill her*

*Reader speaks in yautja*: wait I mean no harm I swear!! 

And like all of the yautjas were flabbergasted to find this out and they were suspicious of her cause how does a human know so much about their people? (cause in the world no human ever went to yautja prime) so word got out and everyone wanted to see the human including people from other clans, so fast forward reader and kar'dokh got close -e ends up liking her try's courting her but she pretends to be oblivious to it

Kar'dokh: ooman

Reader: yes? 

Kar'dokh: why do you refuse to be my mate? Am I not a worthy enough male for you? I have you know I have strong seed to sire strong pups so why do you refuse me? 

Reader: what...? What do you...huh? Kar'dokh you are an alien I wouldn't even be able to give you children! 

Kar'dokh: my people's technology can fix that issue so be my mate

Reader: I... I can't 

Kar'dokh: and why not? 

Reader: because I'm human!!! 

Kar'dokh: not valuable reason. Try again

Reader: why do you even like me!?!? Kar'dokh: because I am attracted to you

Reader: *tip toe’s and manages to grab him by the shoulders* raise your standard!!!!

Kar'dokh: *slams hand into metal and puts a deep dent into it then proceed to grab her by the risk*

AND BOOM he pounces on her, corners her against the wall gets her to confess her feelings and they do the super Spicy boombayah doggie style😉

And she somehow got pregnant a few days later 

SORRY FOR IT BEING LONG!!!!! 

To Another Realm

Pairings: Kar'dokh (male yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5271

Summary: After being transported to another realm where yautjas are real, you learn to survive. With the help of Kar'dokh. A clan leader of a strong tribe. If it wasn't for him, you would've been long dead your first day. Close proximity and his help made the two of you grow close. To the point there was no space between you two.

Author Note: IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS. I've been so busy. Work just changed my 6-2 to a 10-6 and I'm now moving an hour away. So I'll be taking a small break as well for that for writing probably. Maybe... I don't know.

Also! I do have a patreon now: link There are three tiers. Those get the post earlier. Everything will still come out. I'm tweaking things as I go.

Masterlist

Ao3

Wind rushes passed you. The ground comes and meets your face with a dull thud. Blackness is all you see.

A throat-tearing gasp wracks your body. You sit up rapidly and start to violently cough, trying to figure out how to steady your breathing. It takes a moment to steady yourself enough to wipe away the tears from your face and gaze around. What you saw wasn’t what you were expecting.

Jungle. Tall, lumbering trees towered high above you. Heat and humidity smacked you in the face. The air was hard to breath. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen, like you had been shoved onto of a mountain without any time to acclimate. You struggled to your feet and glanced around. The area felt weird. It was as if your internal compass was thrown off completely.

Where were you?

Only thing you could feel besides the confusion was dread. A heavy thing to sit in the pit of your belly, weighing you down. You placed over your heart and took in deep, calming breathes. A difficult thing to do when it feels like you’re slowly suffocating. You pushed through the dread and began to move in a random direction. There had to be some sort of clue to as where you are… and how you got here. The last thing you say doesn’t correspond to waking up in a forest!

Due to the lack of air, you could only walk at a moderate pace. That already had you panting slightly. The terrain was rough and unsteady. Thick foliage, fall giant trees, wide creeks, and boulders made the trip all the more difficult. You had to push forward though and find some sort of clue. Sweat and humidity sticks to your skin like a sheet. Your clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. No matter how much you pulled the drenched clothing away from your skin.

Hours, or what felt like hours of traveling, later, you spotted something through the foliage. It rivaled the trees height. A structure! You immediately started to quickened your pace and race through the foliage, not caring if the branches tore at your clothing and skin. You panted heavily by the time you pushed past the lush bush. You stood there and dragged your gaze up, up, up until you find the top. It was a pyramid. A pyramid in the middle of the jungle. Was this somewhere that had Aztec or Mayan buildings? That’s all you could come up with.

It was in pristine state, as if you had been transported back in time. Like this was the day it was built. You can’t recall anything from anywhere that had something like this. With your heavy breathing, you had to stand there for at least ten minutes, under a tree, catching your breath. The sun was harsh. It felt like you were in a desert, in middle of the day. It nearly burned your skin by standing out in it for a short period of time. You glanced at the building after catching your breath once more. You wanted to go inside. Who knows what’s beyond its walls? Could be an earth shattering record?

With a deep breath you pushed onward and stepped into the blazing sun. Even the intensity felt off, the rays as well. Yet, you didn’t have an idea on what is happening. Besides this being a terrible dream. Stuck in a hot, humid jungle with no phone, no map, no clue where you were. A hopeless situation to be put into with your lonesome.

Large stairs that reached your knees slowed your ascend. Halfway up, you had to stop and take a moment. “This. Is. Bullshit,” you muttered to yourself then continued up the stairs. The material was textured and a deep ruby red with blocks of black. It was beautiful despite you sweating all over it. Does a dream really make you sweat this much?

By the time you had reached the top steps, you feel faint, ready to fall back down the stairs you just climbed. You stumbled your way into the entrance, thankful for the cover. The sun had done a number on your skin. The heat that radiated off of you could make water boil off of you. Your back touches a wall before you slide down to sit. Your legs were more than thankful for the rest. There had to be at least on-hundred steps. Minimum. It was worse since they were made for bigger people.

All because you wanted to see the inside. This better be worth it.

Once you felt stable, thirty minutes later, you weakly stood up. Your legs wobbled when you took a step. You continue on and follow your way inside. Only to realize it had a stairwell. You growled and glared at the damn thing. Then, you take the slow and approach of climbing down each step. It wasn’t much to complain about. Only about two flights until you reached the first floor. Now, it was time to explore.

There was something in the air that had you on alert. Either from the creepiness or from the fact you felt like you were crossing into forbidden territory. You tread quietly, peered around corners before doing down that hallway. The place felt like a maze, meant to drag you deeper and deeper into the depths. Until you from yourself all the way at the bottom level.

That; s when you realize that the only reason you’re able to see is from fire lamps. Lamps that have to be lit by someone. You stopped in your tracks and looked at the walls. In your blind stupor, you didn’t think to look at the walls. Walls that are decorated with stone carvings. Carving that made you think of the movie ‘AVP’. This is really a dream.

You walked up to the carving and gently ran a hand over the smooth stone. Beautiful work. Someone had poured their heart into the crafting a story into the stone. Your gaze drifts over the art work and followed the story down the hallway. All the way to a grand door at the end of the hallway. It was too carved with a mixture of stone, word, and some sort of ore. You stopped in front the door with your jaw dropped.

Curiosity got the best of you. Both of your hands were place on one of the doors.; With all of your weight and strength, you pushed open the door. Your head was ducked down as you struggled the entire time. Just enough until you could slip between the new crack. You stepped into the room and instantly freeze on the spot. That dreadful feeling only intensified… tenfold. You picked up your head and had to cut off a gasp.

Tens of eyes stared at you bright, fierce gazes that looked ready to tear into you. Your muscles locked in place as you stared out at the group. You recognized them. Yautjas. These were Yautjas. Twenty or so. All of them staring at you. Your heart pounding in your chest, trying to escape from the situation you’ve put yourself into.

At the end of the long, formal table, one grand looking Yautja stood up abruptly. Others following suit. The first on marched around everyone and advanced swiftly towards you. You stumble backwards and smacked into the closed door behind you.

Two long blades slid out and glinted off the low light from the fire lamps. Your eyes about bulged out of your head as you looked at the approaching Yautja. Seeing them in movies was far different than seeing on in person. Not that you ever thought you would see one like this. Your hands lifted up in a complacent manner, as if you were trying to call down an angered animal.

“Wait!” you screamed, using a language you never though to use. The Yautja stopped in his tracks his muscles tense. Everyone else pausing as well. “Don’t… don’t kill me.” The unused language was choppy on your tongue. You never thought you would ever use it. Not that you had anyone to use it with.

Surprise over took his anger in the moment. His eyes roamed from head to toe. “You spoke.” It was a statement rather than a question. The words takes a long few seconds to register in your brain. A bit of excitement flares to life inside of you at the knowledge you understand him.

Timidly, you nodded your head. “Yes. Did. Not well.” You did your best to communicate with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas behind him glanced at each other, confusion evident in their eyes. Some looked angry. One stepped out from the group and tried to bypass the main Yautja standing less than ten feet from you. He sticks his arm out and stops the other one.

“No, Taural,” he growled but didn’t let his bright vibrant eyes off of you. You felt like a deer in headlights, just waiting for them to do something. For them to decide your fate. There was no running, no fleeing. You couldn’t outrun them, there was no chance of escape. You had to think smart.

The one he stopped snapped his head towards the larger male. “It’s a ooman, Kar'dokh! On Yautja Prime. It needs to be killed,” Taural spat at the brown Yautja. Your heart leapt into your throat. Kill you?! But-but, you’re not a threat, you have no weapons. They have no reason to kill you!

“No.” Such a firm statement that left nothing to be argued. “Return to your seats. Now.” A command that left everyone only to followed. They followed his order with little resistance. Some glanced back at you with murderous intent. Part of you was thankful for the mercy while the other was afraid what he might have in store for you.

Kar'dokh approached you once more with a stern look in his eyes. Instantly, like a cornered animal, your first thought was to throw a punch. But, you didn’t want to give a reason to kill you. Don’t be a threat. He stopped directly in front of you. A towering form that made you feel like you were going to shit yourself. Your heart raced and felt like it was going to leap directly into his hands.

He leaned down and got directly into your face. You tried to turn your head away but he grips your chin and forces your head back. “No threat. Can’t… kill me,” you continued in choppy Yautja. The fear that gripped your heart squeezed hard. All you could do was stand there, under his scrutiny. Your eyes pleading for your life to be spared. Because if your memory served you right, from all the knowledge about these guys, they shouldn’t be allowed to harm or kill you in any way. You aren’t a threat and hold no weapons.

“How do you know?” he growled out lowly and tightened his grip on your chin. You since. “How did you get here?” You could see the questions swirling in his eyes the longer you he stared at you. He was trying to figure out where and how you got here.

Longer you stood there pinned to the wall, you grew more lightheaded. Either from the anxiety that ran through you or the lack of oxygen was starting to get to you. Maybe it was the fear of death right in front of you. Or maybe it was a combination of all of that. Your breathes started to come out fast the longer you were pinned. Darkness began to crowd your vision.

“I-I’m gonna pa-pas out,” you alerted to him before everything went dark. You collapsed on the ground. Kar'dokh letting you dropped. The last thing you remember is being picked up.

By the next time you woke up, you felt a bit refresh. Your eyes blinked open to stare up at a patterned, carved ceiling. Carving like the ones you’ve seen on the pyramid walls. Your brows furrowed at the sight. What? You sat up and rubbed at your eyes. The scene didn’t change. You had just woke up. What in the world were you still in this dream? Fear started to fill your stomach. No… surely, this was a dream. Was this a dream?

Then, a door opening caught your attention. Your head snapped over towards the sound. Kar'dokh was walking into the room, head held high. He stopped besides the cot you had been placed on during your forced nap. Stunned, you peered up at him, heart thundering again. “What happened?” you asked, speaking in your normal language now. Then, you felt the blanket that had been laid on you, slip down. That’s when you realize the room you were in was a medical room. And it didn’t feel like you were suffocating anymore.

His nearness was frightening. To see him crowd into your space without any remorse for scaring you terribly. A grumbled came from the towering, brown giant. “Our planet’s atmosphere isn’t designed for oomans.” His voice! He spoke in Yautja but a monotone voice sounded in your ear. A translator.

It’s thought that they breathe nitrogen more than oxygen. They can survive in our atmosphere than us in theirs. “A regulator has been added to our respiratory system.” Kar'dokh leaned into closer into your space. Your natural reaction was to move away but he snatched your throat and tugged you back. “Now, that I know you won’t die before I get my answers: start talking.”

Worst of all, you don’t know the true answer to his questions. He didn’t look like he would accept ‘I don’t know’ as an answer either. You forced down the lump in your throat. “Uh, what was the questions again?” you asked in a small voice. As much as you wanted to shy away and hide, the grip he had on your chin was firm. There was no escape.

He scowled at you and tightened his hold on you for a moment. “How did you get here? Who brought you onto our planet?” The deepness and anger in his voice was laid thick over you. It rattled you deep to the bones. Fear gripped your heart. The more you looked at Kar'dokh, the more you noticed how decorated he was. Kar'dokh was covered with plenty of bones and scars. From your knowledge, he must be a well decorated hunter or possibly an elder… or a clan leader. That had your heart dropping to the floor, at his feet. You whimpered quietly and closed your eyes, trying not to faint again.

“Answer me!”

Your whole body jerked from him but he brought you back to his space. “I don’t know! I don’t know! I promise. I woke up in the middle of the jungle. I-I walked around and found this place. I don’t know how I got here. Honestly!” you had to plead to him. Hopefully, he’d see the honesty in your eyes, hear it in your voice. You cracked open an eye to read his face.

The gears in his brain were spinning. Kar'dokh growled then let go of your chin. With a yelp, you fell back and nearly fell off the cot if it wasn’t for him grabbing the collar of your shirt. He hauled you back up into a sitting position. Far too close. You could see the speckles in his eyes. Beautiful but deadly. This creature could easily hurt and kill you with a fraction of his strength. The only reason you are alive currently was you weren’t a threat nor an honorable kill. Those… others wanted to kill you with little remorse or pause. Was that honor rule not true? If that was the case, you were a walking corpse. Soon to be a skull on the wall. Nothing more than a trophy.

Kar'dokh eases off of your shirt until he knew you won’t fall backwards again. “Thanks,” you murmured and drifted your face down towards the cot again. Your hands were folded in your lap, nervously playing with each other. “I’m being honest. I promise. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t even know where I am. This isn’t earth, is it?” You gazed back up at him, eyes large and wide.

The two of you entered a short staring contest until he sighed and took a step back. “I believe you, ooman. I don’t smell another on you.” The brown Yautja leaned forward and sniffed you for a moment. “You do smell… strange.” Was that a good or bad thing? He stood back up and stared down at you from over his mandibles. “Do answer me this: how do you know that we can’t harm you?” Your breath got caught in your throat. Was it wise to release such information to him? Would he think you as insane?

But, the only way was to get through all of this is to be honest. From there, it would be up to Kar'dokh if you are to live. Putting your life in someone’s hands.

“Okay… you might not believe me though.” From there, you went into explaining what your world is like. Going deeply into about how Yautjas are a fake species, made up. All of them a fantasy that someone made up… until now. Kar'dokh took all of it. His stern face a wall of impassible features. Not even his eyes gave away a single emotion. By the end, you finally stopped and watched him closely.

During your whole talk, he had grabbed a chair. Kar'dokh stood up and uncrossed his arms. “All you’ve said is… unrealistic, though you arriving on Yautja Prime is also next to unrealistic. Oomans aren’t allowed on Yautja Prime but… you are  a special case now. If what you say is true then you must be kept alive.” That made a cold drop drip down your spine. What could that mean?

From that day, you were under lock and key by Kar'dokh or in a medical-like room. They would run tests on you yet they couldn’t come up with anything logical for your situation. In the meantime, you got to learn more than ever about them. Probably the first and only humans to step foot on Yautja Prime. Alive. It took time to get Kar'dokh to open up but your excitement about learning their culture and language inevitably softened him up enough. That’s when you learned more about him. Plenty for a well decorated warrior and clan leader to talk about.

Two years after you first dropped down onto their planet, the scientists were still scratching their heads. They haven’t figured out how you’ve made it here. They were able to find out you weren’t from their universe. Something about your cells were different. That’s as far as they’ve gotten about your situation.

On a different hand, you’ve gotten further with Kar'dokh to the point he allows you free roam of his home and the clan he leads. There was a strict no harming or killing on you. He had his name and symbol burned into your skin to ensure everyone knew you were off limits. Everyone kept a wide berth when it came to you. Rarely did anyone talk or looked at you. Something you used to your advantage. For the most part. Until you wanted to learn about their culture more.

Back in the comfort of Kar'dokh’s home, you were studying the language. A soft, thin, knitted blanket laid over your legs while you were curled on the couch in the living room. The language… was different. But Kar'dokh was more than helpful when it came to speaking and writing. Listening, that’s a whole different story. That’s all on you. Your brain is completely scrambled trying to understand the different clicks and trills they make.

With a groan, you flopped back against the back of the couch and tilted your head back, eyes closed. A familiar presences hovered over you, blocking out the light. You cracked open an eye then softly smiled at him with no teeth showing. “Hello, Kar'dokh. Come here to gloat about my struggles?” you teased him.

The brown Yautja placed his hands on the top of the couch and leaned over you. His long, dark tresses curtained around his head. “What are you struggling with?” he asked you, features soft and calm. You continued to gaze up at him. “I told you I’m here to help you.” He has changed since the first day you met him. You’ve cracked past his hard exterior to see how soft and kind he could be. You sat up and brought up the sheet of paper you were on. Kar'dokh grabbed it and looked at it closely.

Kar'dokh snorted then used a sharp nail to flick off the translator right behind your ear. Then, he began to speak in Yautja. “What it is saying is…” he spoke the word but it didn’t register in your brain. The confusion etched in your features stated you didn’t understand it. At all. Kar'dokh repeat it a few times. “Now, you try it.” The course of two years has greatly improved your Yautja speech and understanding. There are moment when you struggle… but Kar'dokh is there to catch you before you fall.

At first, the word choppily fell from your lips. Kar'dokh was patient in helping you get the word. The different facial structures definitely made it all the harder. Yet, Kar'dokh was patient with you the entire time. Even if it took all day for you to finally get it.

Once you finally got it, Kar'dokh purred and grinned at you. He combed his fingers carefully through your hair. “You did so well. I’m proud of you,” he praised to you.

In the pit of your stomach, butterflies erupted to life. Your eyes softly shut as you enjoyed the comfort his presence and touch offered. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you,” you muttered softly in Yautja. The words were starting to fall from your lips with ease. His nails raked across your scalp. You sunk further into the couch with a deep groan.

A chuckle comes from the brown Yautja. You feel his presence grow closer, his heat washing over you like a blanket of comfort. One of your eyes barely cracks open to see his bright yellow one staring directly at you. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

Without thinking, you leaned up and pecked him on one of his mandibles.

The whole world froze. Your heart dropped to your stomach. Internally, you were cursing at yourself. You flinched and tried to slip off the couch to put some distance between the two of you. When a hand snatched the back of you neck, lifted you over the couch, and dropped you right in front of Kar'dokh. Your shoulders scrunched up, eyes not daring to look him in the eye.

Rough finger pads gripped your chin and forced you to look directly at him. A lump began to grow in your throat the longer you stared at him.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just-I don’t know. It just happened. I do have feelings. I don’t know if you did. And I probably just ruined what friendship we had. Now you’ll probably hate me. Please, don’t. I don’t know what I wo-“ a tongue was shoved into your mouth and promptly shut you up. Your eyes fluttered shut.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you close to a feverish body. Your own arms wrapped around a sturdy neck. Kar'dokh guided you towards the nearest wall and trapped you between him and it. You are forced to pull back and pant for breath. The back of your head resting against the wall.

“That’s one way to make me shut up,” you teased him and leaned up on your tippy toes to place a kiss to his lower mandible. “I’m not complaining though.” Kar'dokh growled lowly in the back of his throat and dove back into another kiss. You immediately responded in haste, hands roaming over his shoulders and felt up his powerful body.

As your hands dipped lower, Kar'dokh pressed himself harder against you. One of his legs pressed between your legs and forced them open. You gasped into the kiss but he doesn’t let you pull away this time. A rough textured hand palms at your hip for a moment before dipping under the hem of your shirt. The difference in temperature has your hair standing on edge. He continues to grope at your newly exposed skin.

For a moment, he moves back a fraction to give you a moment to take a breath. His large, brown forehead was pressed to your own. Piercing yellow eyes stare directly into yours. The hand under your shirts drifts up and skims under the swell of your unbound breasts. You gasped and arched your back, pressing yourself more into his touch. His eyes flared with fire, mandibles twitching wider.

There’s a long second passed before he rips your shirt off of your body and frees your torso. Kar'dokh’s gaze was immediately admiring the new skin he exposes. Both of his hands palm at the supple, soft skin of your breasts. Large thumbs toys over your nipples and draws them into peaks. You whined and curled your hands into fists. One snagging a dark tress of his. He purred deeply and pressed his mouth to yours again in a fierce fight for the top. Kar'dokh easily overtakes you.

You tugged on his tress. His dark nails dig into your ribcage then he pinched and twisted one of your nipples. A gasp tore at your throat and forced you to pull away from him. Your hips rutted down on the thigh between them.

“Kar, no more teasing. Please, I can’t take it anymore,” you begged him, breathless. His irises darkened.

With the open invitation, Kar'dokh simply rips off your pants and under in one move. A yelp escapes from your throat but he ignores it. The brown Yautja bumps his knee further up and grinds against your exposed slit. Heat flushed to your cheeks at the feeling of a dripping mess making its way to his thigh.

Drool drips down his jaw. Kar'dokh grips your hips and easily lifts you off of the ground, keeping you pinned to the wall. Instinctively, your legs attempted to wrap around his waist but he was larger than you. He uses his hips to hold you up as he undoes his loincloth and tosses it to the side. Your gaze is drawn downwards.

Hot and heavy. Kar'dokh’s alien cock is nestled between your thighs, resting on your stomach. The tip reaches your belly button easily. Oh shit. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

One last look in your eyes, he draws his hips back. The tapered, neon green tip was pressed to your entrance. Then, with a swift thrust, he lodges himself as deep as possible, only able to get about halfway in. Your back arches off of the wall as a wail falls from your lips. The sheer size of him makes it hard for your walls to even clench around him.

Kar'dokh uses a hand to ensnare your throat and forced you to look at him. “I know you can take more.” Another draw and thrust of his hips makes the rest of him fit snuggly inside of you. The feeling of him overwhelmed you. It felt like he was touching every nerve inside of you. Maybe he was.

A deep groan falls from his alien mouth. His eyes fluttering, on the verge of shutting at the exquisite feeling of you wrapped snuggly around him. “That’s it. I knew you could take it, little one. Mm, you’re so tight,” he muttered under his breath. Kar'dokh refocused on the task on hand.

The pace at first was sloppy, unsteady until he found the perfect beat. Loud slaps echoing throughout the living room. Your hand was still wrapped around his tress firmly, using it as a lifeline. Your jaw dropped as each thrust forced the air out of your lungs.

“Yes, yes. Perfect. Been wanting to do this-ugh, for so long. Make you my mate. Gonne breed you. Have my pups,” he rambled amidst the brutal fucking he provided. His claw dug into your hips and held you in place.

You couldn’t the snort that left you as you tried to stay sane. “T-that’s n-ah, no possible, Kar.” From what you know of, it shouldn’t be. No matter how potent their seed is. Or the fact the tip of his shaft was slamming against you cervix with each rut into you.

Black nails dug deeper into your flesh, threatening to break the barrier. “Doesn’t matter. Our technology will fix that,” he growled back and doubled his efforts. Your reply was cut off with a high pitched whine. The brutalness was wrecking to your smaller frame. There wasn’t a chance you would be able to walk tomorrow.

He leaned further into your space and buried his face into the crook of your neck. His long, pink tongue slithered over your salty flesh, tasting you. Blood pool around the nails that finally pierced the flesh of your hips.

“You’re mine. My mate!” Your pants grew whiny. You had no choice but to hold on as the first wave of your orgasm started to wash over you. Your eyes crossed as the pleasure became overwhelming.

Fangs bite down into the crook of your neck, scaring as his mate. With a deep, resonating snarl, Kar'dokh hips go flush with yours. You mewled at the feeling of his throbbing cock taking up every available space inside of you then some more. Spurts of cum began to fill your insides.

None of it was able to spill out and be of waste. Something was lodged just shy of your entrance, plugging you up. You squirmed in his hold and tried to figure it out what it was. Then, the light bulb went off.

A knot. Kar'dokh had knotted you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. He really was doing everything he can to make you pregnant. He unlatched his teeth from your shoulder and licked at the dribbling blood.

At first, you smiled. That turned into a smirk and soon enough, you were laughing softly, soaking in the dopamine in your system. Kar'dokh’s licking stopped. The brown Yautja pulls away to look you in the eye, confused on your laughter.

“I don’t know how this will work. You won’t be able to get me pregnant,” you explained to him again, trying to get the point across. “Why do you even like me? I’m a human.”

One hand detaches the claws in your hip to grip at your chin. “It’s because I am attracted to you. Ooman or not, you are attractable both physically and mentally.” Oh… that’s really sweet of him. Your cheeks flushed with heat again. You couldn’t even duck your head off to the side.

“Then, you need to raise your standards, Kar. Or you just need to get out more often.” Kar'dokh responded with a snort and returned to nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t entertain your words. Instead, he holds you in his arms, waiting for his knot to deflate.

So he could do it all over again.

Sure enough, a human can get pregnant by a Yautja.

[gazsluckyhat]

Denial is a River in Egypt

Let's all say thank you @miss-vanta-likes-to-write for making me post this early. I was saving it for after Sarah's House but she's been begging. And I quite enjoy this one as well.

That being said this is a dark fic. Please check the trigger warnings before reading.

tw: kidnapping, dub-con, mentions of drugs

Everyone knows that what belongs to Simon belongs to John. Of course that includes you, too.

or

Denial is a river in Egypt. Everyone knows that.

The lights in the house were off, front door locked. Everything was as you left it when you left this morning, but you weren't alone. The hot coco you made every night to relax had a funny taste. You just assumed it was because it was a Christmas flavor and Christmas was two months ago. But now, seeing who was in front of you, you know it isn’t that. He blended into the darkness of the living room. He could have been there for hours. You'd been in the kitchen for at least two. A late dinner and a couple chapters read before bed. He'd stepped forward the second you finished the mug, which was now shattered at your feet.

"What-what are you doing here?" Something was wrong, you could feel it in your chest. He only cocked his head to the side.

"Taste funny love?" Confirmation on what you already knew. A step back was met with a step forward. He matched every move you made.

"You broke into my house." He only chuckled.

"I did tell you that you need a better system." The knife block was behind you, you just had to reach it. Another step back matched. The counter pressed into your back.

"What do you want?" Your hand reached behind you, fingers searching for the bigger knife. He knew what you were doing of course. He always did.

"Nothing. I've got what I want." Eye's wide with confusion you felt it. Your head started to sway, limbs growing heavy.

"Yo spikd drink." You tongue felt numb. He walked closer and when your knee's buckled he caught you. His touch always so gentle. All you could do was whimper.

"Shh. Don't worry love. We're going home now." Your eyes drifted closed as he lifted you up with ease. You should've went home that night. When the brute of a man slid in close, you should have feigned sick and left. Now you were stuck with a Ghost that didn't like 'no'.

Your head felt stuffed with cotton, your mouth so dry. Everything aches, including your head. Whatever you were laying on was scratchy and rough. You couldn't feel the rest of your body parts yet, a tingly numbness still running through your veins. It felt like you had to use all your strength to open your eyes, the minimal light still hurting them. You weren't in your house. This wasn't your bedroom. This wasn't even your basement. There weren't any signs of your seasonal décor anywhere.

"She's awake Simon." Blue eyes appeared in your sight. And the stupidest haircut you'd ever seen. That only meant-Price. He was spread across the couch in front of you, a cigar hanging out of his mouth. His lap dog Kyle was behind him, eyes watching your every move. Johnny was kneeling in front of you. You were assuming he was touching you, though ,again, you couldn't feel the rest of your body yet.

"Almost forgot how pretty she is, Lt." You tried to bare your teeth but only got a laugh from the men. Simon strolled in seconds later, mask gone. He was wearing a grey shirt and black tac pants. His usual get up. He happily knelt beside Johnny, hand running through your hair.

"Sleep good love?" Brown eyes showing concern. Tugging a knot out you groaned. Your head still ached. "Bet your head aches, huh? Roofie'll do that." He stood back up and slipped something from his pocket, grabbing the bottle Johnny offered him. "This'll help some." Shaking out two white pills he offered them to you.

"Why would I trust you?" Your voice was rough, sore even. Simon chuckled before a smack registered on your thigh. Feeling now back.

"Now now Soap. Her punishment comes later." John was smirking your way. Anger bubbled up. "I'm sure Simon can handle her." Simon bent down his other hand stroking your cheek.

"It's paracetamol. I've never lied to you, love." Which was a lie. Your head ached though. And all your muscles feel tight and wound up. Opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out he set the pills in your mouth. "Good girl." He took the lid off the bottle and slowly put it to your mouth where you gulped greedily. The water felt great on your throat. Johnny tugged your head back gently.

"Slow down Lassie. You'll choke." Wiggling your toes you realize they weren't bound and neither were your hands. Why would they be? You had four of the best soldiers in the room with you. You couldn't get away even if you tried. And they knew it.

"What do you want Simon? Where am I?" This wasn't his place. This had to be some old abandoned place by the looks of the walls. Though it looked like work was being done.

"I told you before. I have what I want. And this is our home." He was smiling at you.

"We were gonna wait until the renovation was done before bringing you, doll, but you had to go and ruin plans." John was glaring at you. "So sorry if it's not up to your standards."

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything to any of you." They were delusional. You'd broke things off with Simon for that reason. You'd loved him though.

"He's talking about this new job. Going back to America? Leaving me?" He looked hurt.  And your heart may have cracked just a tad.

"How do you know that? No one knew. I just found out?" This was bad. They probably had Kyle hacking your job. He was a wiz at that stuff.

"The same way I know your boss is secretly gay." Kyle smiled. Shaking his phone in front of him.

"This bullshit. You can't keep me here." Johnny chuckled.

"Oh bonnie. Why can't we?" Simon nodded.

"There's enough space here to add on if we need to. You can have that library you always talked about. The master is big enough for a California king. Room for all of us. And we can do your dream bathroom." You wanted to cry. "And there's no one around for miles, love. We can finally work on that garden we always talked about." He was rubbing your cheeks. You couldn’t hold back the tears.

"I want to go home Si." He shh'd you.

"I know love, I know. But this is home now. It's bigger than that townhouse anyway. Me and Johnny are gonna go pack up your stuff tomorrow, Kyle already sent your job your resignation. Everything is done." Your eyes flew to Johns.

"You can't keep encouraging this. This is not right and you know it." He only laughed while strolling to join you.

"You broke his heart sweetheart. He only wanted to love you."

"No, he wanted to share me like I was his property." A smile as his hand touched your cheek.

"To people he loved. It wasn't like he was letting strangers fuck you." You gasped.

"Fuck you, Price." A smirk and a dark glint in his eyes.

"Simon, are you punishing her?" Simon shook his head. Fear crawling up your throat.

"Have at it Captain." Then you were being yanked up and bent over John's legs.

"What the fuck-" Your jeans were being yanked down your legs, panties with them. "Stop. Fucking sto-" A loud smacked jolted you. Fire burned up your neck and across your backside.

"This is for your own good love. We only want the best for you." Simon was at your eye level, his hands soothing your red cheeks.

"Please, Simon." Tears gathered in your eyes, your throat burning. Another smack. John Price was spanking you. Like a disobedient child. The other two watched as their Captain smacked your ass, listening to the soft cries you gave. The embarrassment was otherworldly. You just wanted to hide and cry in peace.

 Twenty smacks. He gave you twenty hard smacks before letting his hand wander.

"Hmmm. Look at this, boys." His fingers pulled from your thighs wet and glistening. Somehow your cheeks grew even hotter. "Our little lamb liked it." Raising you up so you were now straddling him, he took those same fingers and waved them in front of your face. You tried to avoid his eyes but he took hold of your jaw.

"Did you like it sweetheart? Hmm?" He sucked each finger clean. "Is that why you've been so bad? Just wanted us to punish you. Bruise that pretty skin of yours?" You whimpered. "Poor thing." He waved two fingers in front of you and touched your lips with them. "Suck." He didn’t even give you time to open your mouth, just pushed them past your teeth and closed your lips. You could still taste yourself on them, somehow tangy and sweet. Simon used to spend hours between your legs, sucking and licking until you'd cry from the overstimulation. John pulled them out kissing your cheek before shoving them back between your legs and into you. You tried to pull away, but he had you in a tight grip.

"You took those spankings so well sweetheart. Let me reward you." He looked over your shoulder, eyes signaling someone. Simon's lips latched onto your neck seconds later. A whimper left you. He had your hands pressed to your chest.

"Miss you love. So fuckin' much." John was fingering you now, a loud squelching noise echoing in the room. "Such a good girl. Takin' the Captain's fingers. Such a pretty girl." You wanted to hate this. To hate every single part but you couldn't. Simon knew your sweet spots and was doing his best to hit every single one. John's fingers felt so fucking good after months of a dildo and vibrator. You were quickly climbing a hill, your body betraying you. Simon captured your lips in his, John leaning forward to suck a nipple through your t-shirt. Simon sucked the groan you gave up, smiling into your kiss. Your fingers dug into Simon's as you were reaching that ledge. You were so close and he knew it.

"She's gonna cum Sir. Just a little more." He said watching your face. His finger's joined Johns and began to rub your clit, that being the last thing you needed. With a cry you came all over the men's fingers, collapsing into John's chest. Aftershocks running through you. Your eyes felt heavy again, the last of your energy taken from you.

"That'a girl. Johnny, take her up to the room and let her rest. She's gonna be exhausted." The last thing you remember is the Scot picking you up and tucking your head under his chin.

tags: @miss-vanta-likes-to-write

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Take Him

Pairing: Josh Allen x Popstar!Reader

Summary: After Josh Allen’s ex leaves a shady Instagram comment, someone claps back in her defense. In retaliation, the ex escalates things, calling Josh a “brain-dead CTE athlete.” The internet erupts, with fans and NFL players calling out the disrespect. Josh wants to ignore it. She doesn’t.

Inspired by: It's ok, I'm ok by Tate Mcrae

She wasn’t new to the internet. She knew how people talked. Knew how exes loved to reappear the second something good started happening. But this was next level.

It started as a casual Instagram post—a simple game day pic, her wearing a Bills hoodie, captioned “Go Bills ❤️”.

And then the comment from Josh’s ex. "Funny seeing her wear that hoodie. Just remember, I had him first. ❤️"

Dawson Knox: "First doesn’t mean best. We in the NFL, not preschool."

Less than an hour later, she fired back.

"Luckily, my boyfriend owns a team and doesn’t play for one. Don’t have to be with another brain-dead CTE athlete."

And just like that—the internet exploded.

THE INTERNET WENT WILD.

PopCultureBuzz (@PopCultureBuzz): "Did Josh Allen’s ex REALLY just go there??? This is INSANE."

NFL Memes (@NFL_Memes): "Calling an NFL player a ‘brain-dead CTE athlete’ is actually sick. Like… huh???"

Bills Mafia Fans: "Not even we talk about our guys like that. Josh won, we don’t claim her."

Her phone lit up with messages—everyone asking if she’d seen it. If she was going to respond.

She stared at her screen, letting out a slow exhale.

Slowly a smirk started forming. "Oh, okay. She wants to play."

Josh, sitting beside her on the couch, groaned. "Just ignore it, babe."

But she had other plans.

She was in the studio the next morning.

Sitting with her producer, humming a melody, flipping through her notes until she landed on a phrase she had scribbled down the second she saw the comment:

"It's ok, I'm ok…"

And just like that, the song came to life.

A song dripping in sarcasm, mocking the idea that his ex still had any power over their relationship.

It's okay, I'm okay, had him in the first place It's okay, I'm okay (okay)

By the time the track was finished, she knew exactly what she was going to do.

So, baby, don't get this twisted (hey) No, nothin' could make me miss it Take him, he's yours

She teased it on Instagram, just a short clip of her at the mic, captioned:

"You had him first? Cool. I have him last. 🖤 #ItsOkImOk"

PopCultureBuzz (@PopCultureBuzz): “Wait… this is DEFINITELY about Josh Allen’s ex???”

NFL Memes (@NFL_Memes): “‘Take him, he’s yours’—OH SHE WENT FOR THE THROAT.”

Bills Mafia Fans: “This is our new anthem. No notes.”

He was mid-film session when his phone started blowing up.

Knox nudged him, holding up Twitter, "Bro… what did your girl just drop??"

Josh sighed, already knowing.

He opened his messages—yep, there it was. A text from her.

“Don’t be mad 😘”

Josh rubbed his temples, shaking his head. When he heard her voice dripping in sarcasm, flipping the whole ‘I had him first’ thing back on the ex?

He grinned. Oh yeah. She was absolutely unhinged. And he loved it.

She was at home, scrolling through the chaos, when Josh walked in, shaking his head.

"Really?" He held up his phone, playing her song back to her.

She grinned. "Really."

Josh sighed, setting his phone down before grabbing her waist and pulling her close.

"You are… completely unhinged."

She smirked, looping her arms around his neck. "You love it."

Josh chuckled, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, I do."

And just like that, the song was out and his ex was claiming she got "hacked."

[otterandterrierwrites]

45

21

12

14 Days of Scoundress 2024 ♥ February 11th

His reason why

Han had started coming to these things a few years after the war—the veteran support groups. Not for himself, at first. He didn’t need support from strangers, wasn’t going to spill his most personal experiences to a nosy bunch. No; he’d started coming to see how he could help.

It had been Leia’s idea. He’d heard that someone in his old Pathfinding group had passed away unexpectedly, and—it had fucked him up for a while. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen plenty of fucked up things in his time, known of other people who’d died the same way. Maybe it was the fact that he’d made it out alive, and with so much to boot. Who knew how the mind worked. In any case, he thought he could try to help. Listen to people, at least; tell them it could get better. He hadn’t expected the groups to be so… cathartic. The first few times, he’d come back declaring to Leia that he wasn’t going back there, it was just too much, who the hell was he to play at shrink with those people, emotions made him uncomfortable anyway.

He’d always gone back again and, eventually, he’d stopped complaining. Sometimes, he even took advantage of the space to talk about some of what he’d been through—things he hadn’t wanted to burden Leia with. It surprised him how good it felt to drop some of that weight, which he hadn’t even realized he was carrying. Han was never going to do therapy, even though he saw how good it did to Leia. He just didn’t think he needed it. But the support groups—those helped him even more than he thought he’d helped them.

And yet, some days were hard. Sitting there, listening to vets talk about the people they’d lost, the feeling of hopelessness that crept in when grief took hold, when they couldn’t see themselves moving on and building a new life for themselves… it reminded Han of the darkness he’d glimpsed in Leia during the war, how it had scared him, moved him to act. Sometimes, by annoying her into feeling. Other times, by dragging her kicking and screaming out of martyrdom. He couldn’t take all the credit—but he wanted to believe it’d helped some. (And, incidentally, doing that had saved him, in more ways than one.)

Today was one of those days. Han had sat for an hour with a former frigate nurse whose wife had passed away recently from sustained injuries she could never fully heal from. In the end, she’d decided to give up. The surviving partner was struggling not only with her grief and broken heart, but also anger at being left behind, which added a serious dose of guilt to the mixer. No word of comfort had felt good enough, and Han had headed home in a dark mood. What could he possibly have to say to someone like that, when he got to come home to his wife?

His wife.

The sense of dread that had lodged in Han’s chest all evening ramped up as he made his way back to his and Leia’s apartment, inexplicably—he knew everything was okay, but he was still eager to make sure—and then he opened the front door and walked in, the familiar scents of home enveloping him. Leia came out of the kitchen carrying two plates of food, which she set down on the dining table as she greeted him.

‘Hey sweetheart,’ she said, a warm smile lighting up her fierce brown eyes. ‘I’m so glad you’re back; you won’t believe the gaffe Senator Arbo made in session about the Candovant refugees—honestly shows money can buy anyone a seat at the table, but not an ounce of empathy or—’

In a few strides, Han had closed the distance between them and snatched her up in his arms, the inertia of the movement making him dip her backwards as he interrupted her with a kiss. There, in the safety of her warmth, the turmoil in his heart finally quieted.

‘Just shut me up by kissing me from now on, won’t you?’ Leia asked breathlessly, smirking at him. Her expression softened as she looked into his eyes. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Han assured her, bringing her hand up to press his lips over her knuckles. ‘Can’t wait to hear all about Senator Fargo.’

‘Arbo,’ Leia corrected with a chuckle, passing him a plate as they sat down for dinner.

It wasn’t wrong for Han to have survived, to have this while others had lost so much. That was something they always said in the groups—but he knew that already. Had spent years trying to make Leia believe it. Maybe it was the Force, or maybe it was sheer, dumb luck that it’d happened. But it was also… holy. His to cherish and protect. And it was the fuel that kept him going when he tried to make the galaxy the tiniest bit better.

******* Prompts:

45: without a motive

21: “Just shut me up by kissing me from now on, won’t you?”

12: [tango dip] a kiss shared while one partner is dipped backward

[cobra-creampuff]

anyway so seasons 1-early 3 mickey is a pessimist with a dash of nihilist (miserable), and because of that ian looks like an optimist verging on idealist to him.

the fact of the matter is that ian is not an optimist and he certainly is not an idealist. he's a little naive, sure, but less than what would be appropriate for his age. he's also not a pessimist or a nihilist (either kind). or a realist or a pragmatist or any of those.

no, ian is quite simply. unfathomably stubborn. and that is all.

he'll get into west point. he's absolutely certain of this. why? because he fucking said so.

he'll have a real relationship with mickey. they are in love and they are going to be together. this is true. how does he know? because. he. fucking. said so.

he doesn't have hope. he doesn't want things. that's pussy shit. there are precisely three types of things in this world: things ian isn't interested in, things ian already has, and things ian will have. that is simply that!

(which is obviously its own very specific mindset and is at least as extreme as pure optimism and pure pessimism, and is almost certainly just another fun little factor when the force of his will alone is not enough to change the reality of an ongoing traumatic event that contributes to the somewhat early onset of his bipolar disorder. but that's tangential.)

now. once again, disclaimer, these characters cease to exist past early season 5 for me, so there's every chance this next bit is exclusive to MY mickey and ian. there's just no way to know ❤️

that said. ian matures into a nihilist (carefree) - and i would say he's here-ish already in season 4, but in a maladaptive way at that stage - and then eventually matures further into a nihilistic (carefree)-leaning pragmatist.

mickey on the other hand - after a period of having no particular mindset of this type of thing at all which in effect amounts to a months-to-a-year long panic attack where his every action is fueled by emotional desperation and he has no solid concept of his own wants, needs, values, or future beyond the ever-present but totally incoherent certainty that he can't live without ian but ian can and will leave him with ease for even the slightest infraction or failure that terrorizes him like a weasel terrorizes a hen in his every waking moment - um. what was i saying.

oh right. mickey on the other hand, after All That, matures first into a sort of quiet idealism (kind of a pendulum swing maybe, but not quite not also progress, iygiygi), and then. into a less naive version of the old ian's way lmao.

there is no "that's how things are/go" or "that's how the world works" or "life is/isn't fair" or any fundamental human nature or any purpose or lack thereof to life or possible and impossible or likely and unlikely or anything else along any of those lines. there are only two types of things in the world: things that don't matter and mickey's next achievement. and that's that, baby!

and then eventually, mick finishes out at a relatively stable and sustainable realist-leaning optimism, heavily informed by romanticism of the Certain Things Are Meant To Be kind. like, he wouldn't necessarily express that or think of it in those terms. and he doesn't think it's a common thing, in fact it's rare and special and he's very lucky, and even if something is like that it still doesn't mean you don't have to put the work in for it to go well and end up Right. and he doesn't believe in a higher power or in Fate quite as such or in the will of the universe or a cosmic balance or anything like that really.

it's just, you know. sometimes. every now and then. there's just this one little thing that will continuously keep trying to happen without any heed to sense or logic or the incredible odds against it. just something in particular that will forever and always find a way to happen.

like say. for example. there's this gay kid, right? and he gets in this fight and he wins and he's about to bring down a tire iron and ruin this other idiot's pretty face and - for no discernible reason whatsoever - he just... doesn't. and maybe he'll think about it half a dozen years later and wonder why. that one tiny little thing that changed his whole fucking life, why did he do that? what was the reason? and there just. isn't one.

and that's not even all. see, these two dumbasses have no idea the other one is gay too, but some-fucking-how they don't have to say a word or even make any opening moves to just Know they want each other. it's like they read each other's fucking minds, even though he knows, he remembers, he didn't sense anything from ian. but for Some Fucking Reason he just never for a second considered ian wouldn't want him, and ian was in perfect time with him. and maybe he'll think back and try to find an explanation for this part too. was there some body language he read? was there some look in ian's eyes? but the answer is no every time.

and then after that, these two gay kids just can't be kept apart. they just can't. and it's not just that they inexplicably can't resist each other either. every time they're separated they find each other again, no matter what. even when they're the ones to separate themselves, situation after coincidence after happenstance after necessity keeps putting them in each other's orbits. secrecy and jealous exes and gun violence and imprisonment and infidelity and a fucking pathological fear of intimacy and conversion therapy and genuine threat to their lives and marriage to someone else and permanent life-altering illness can't break them up. at least not for long.

and then. somehow. SOME fucking how! after all that, and with the absolutely shit chances that they ever even hooked up in the first place, they actually fucking make it? they don't just get to be together, they get to be happy??

so no, he doesn't believe in god or destiny or soulmates or whatever the fuck. but at the same time, i mean. what other explanation is there?

[starflungwaddledee]

have i seriously not made any actual serious continuous lore based comics about starstruck since january last year (hospital comic, morpho observation comic) with one blip during kirbytober in october (another morpho comic).

what.

[sambers-practice]

Been compelled to just write out all the ways I was made to be an Apollo devotee before I ever even knew it.

-> started playing violin in 3rd grade and got a habit of picking up musical instruments and teaching myself to play them for funsies. I'm up to 8 different instruments now.

-> literally listen to music at all times in order to drown out bad sounds and function in society. (Thanks misophonia)

-> gifted kid artist. Get asked all the time why I didn't go into art as a career despite never having taken an at class beyond 6th grade. Drawing, painting, body art, special effects, pyrography, sculpting, crafts that even fall more under other deity's domains like scooting and fibre art, my creativity has been infinite. Never lacking a muse.

-> Writing, too. Always churning about my OCS and their stories in my head. I've only published 2 fics but strangers likes them enough to draw fan art so I must be decent.

->speaking of careers, I somehow ended up in medical research despite having a degree in Marine science. Worked in Gene therapy for rare disease. Currently working on a cure for cancer.

->and every other job I've had was art or music related. Illustrator, caricature artist, face painting, set design. Pit orchestra.

->oh yeah! Accidentally picked up archery through highschool, immediately won first prize, retained a natural skill for it still.

->small things like Raven being my favorite bird and hyacinths my favorite flower as a kid, and having weird premonition dreams as a child about video game levels of all things?

->really small but I fucking love bees. Always planned on be keeping the moment I can afford a house. Like, of course you're father of Aristaeus. Of course.

There's so much more I can't think of right now because it's past midnight and I'm exhausted but yeah. Unbelievable how completely you I am. And it took me how long to figure out out.

[rosewheresheshouldntbe]

> Rose: Discover a certain web site.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

SHUT UPPPP him getting the expert idea to throw a guy at his brother and then laughing about it is so...

[heartbeetz]

:(

[yesistolethisurl]

.

[perexcri]

happy one year to her and one of my better opening lines for a fic <3

now, because i'm curious:

[keeps-ache]

guess who's computer is going back to the shop again! 👉 this guy 👈

[medicinemane]

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy

You have... very very very very very very very very smart people you know, and they're say something that not only isn't true, but literally is as opposite of the truth as it's possible to be... and you'll... gently inform them "hey, it's actually a bit more like this" and then they just kinda... go on saying literally the exact same thing

I'm not sure if it's just that... I often feel like I must be very bad at communicating, or people must just not notice/ignore a lot of what I say, but... I don't know

Like dearest friend, you've said something as absurd as... I don't know, it's hard to say without saying it, but honest to god about as absurd as saying the United States was a part of the USSR, that level of completely getting it backwards

...and it just doesn't seem to matter when I try to explain it... I legit don't even know if you read what I said

Really end up feeling like I'm going nuts sometimes

[goblin-enjoyer]

I swear why are half the things i like/fandoms im in made of mostly younger people while the other half are mostly older people? what are the zoggin odds with that?

How it feels being 20 in a fandom with a bunch of 30-40 somethings.

VS how it feels being 20 in a fandom with a bunch of 14-17 somethings.

like am do i just have extremely odd luck with things i like or is this just what being 20 is like?