#im not trying to throw stones im just frustrated

[gallantblade]

Some feelings on being AMAB nonbinary and not fitting into the current prevailing paradigm.

[winnie1emon]

✧.* casually thinking about tutor!mattheo...

word count: approx. 590

cw: MDNI, smut, no plot maybe idk im dumb, fingering, praise, public, teasing, overstim, edging (fem receiving)

a/n: quick little drabble/blurb (?? idk what theyre called tbh... someone teach me please) + sorry if this sucks and has spelling mistakes, i’m in class writing this 😵‍💫

"It's not choice B either right..." you huffed frustratedly, turning your head to look at Mattheo sitting beside you in defeat.

"No, but there are just two options left, you got it," Mattheo encouraged, pairing his words of encouragement with a small curl of his fingers that were currently buried into your glossy cunt.

You let out a strangled whine, squeezing your thighs together and attempting to cover up the lewd scene with your skirt as you said with a shaky breath, "I don't know, can we just skip this one?"

"Skip it? You only got 3 more, doll, just choose one, fifty-fifty..." he cooed into your ear. "A or C, hm?"

You dipped your quill into the ink, tentatively circling choice A.

"See, smart girl," he huffed lightly, beginning to pump his fingers slowly in and out of your cunt. You squirmed in your seat, a small moan escaping your lips. You bowed your head as he increased his speed, the low and quiet lewd noises ringing in your ear as they disappeared around the library. You bit your bottom lip, warily looking around the mostly empty library— with the exception of a few stragglers studying almost just like you.

The way his fingers glided with ease, hitting you at the right spot, your legs began to tremble as your mind started to turn fuzzy. “Mattheo… I’m gonna-”

“Not yet,” he cut you off, his fingers slipping out and his hands resting, cupping your cunt.

He had been doing this for over an hour, using a more alternative way to tutor you for your upcoming Transfiguration final.

“Still got two,” he said, pointing at the remaining two multiple choice questions.

You stared at the textbook and you could’ve sworn the words were dancing around. You tried to read the question, but your brain registered nothing as you were left frustrated with Mattheo constantly denying your orgasm.

“It’s that one,” you said, throwing your finger on the textbook.

“No, but nice try,” he cooed. “Just kidding,” he added, lifting your chin up higher to see your finger planted on a diagram and not an answer choice.

You let out a groan of agitation and a mix of desperation as you blinked slowly, your eyes roving over the textbook.

What spell turns an object into stone?

How were you supposed to know?

Taking a gamble you circled A and before you could ask if it was the right answer, he had already told you it was by the way his fingers started to circle around your clit.

The movement made your hips twitch slightly forward, seeking more friction. In fear that he’d stop again, you forced yourself to look at the last question. It seemed out of place, written in with green ink, messily placed unlike the other black words on the page.

You peered at Mattheo incredulously, wide eyed in surprise.

“Answer it. Who do you belong to?”

Given the surroundings and the situation, of course you didn’t want to give in to such an erotic act, but as you felt the sensation of his fingers teasing your entrance, you spoke.

“You.”

You felt the full length of his two fingers pushing past your folds and your brain went blank as it hit the spot you so desperately wanted it to, leaving a mess on his hands once you came.

He hummed in approval, looking at the remnants of your release coating his hand before taking his fingers into his mouth and standing up.

“Same time, Thursday?”

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[jacaerysgf]

lies and sneaking

summary; requested: you are sick of being stuck inside the stone hedge walls and decide to sneak out. You end up running into the worst man you know but it leads to a lot more.

fancast!benjicot blackwood x bracken!reader

w.c: 1.4k

c.w: fluff, minor angst, twin!aeron bracken, minor smut, benjicot is annoying, not proofread

perm benjicot taglist: @lyssaluvs @yeolsbubbles @lenasvoid @at-a-rax-ia @poppyflower-22 @helpyourself-9 @kiraflowersworld @randomgurl2326 @valdezthg @mysticmusicinkpop @tiredsleepyhead @secretf1lms @hardkiddonut @hydrxxxmrti @stlzking @smh-anon @shootinqstars101 @charvsz @helo1281917

you were giddy that you had even managed to sneak out of the castle at all. despite the late hour the town seemed to be as alive as ever and you could barely believe it.

But you got careless and weren’t paying attention until you bumped into somebody’s back. “oh my gods i am so sorry.” the guy turns around and waves his hands, “no no its,,,” his face drops and you freeze upon seeing him “bracken.” benjicot blackwood. Of course you had to run into him. he was the fucking worst. always tormenting you and your brother, not that you never tormented him back, you all were stuck in this endless hateful loop.

you shush him and look around desperately praying nobody heard him. “please just act like you never saw me.” you try to move away from him but he grips your arm and pulls you into his chest and peers down at you a large grin. “oh i dont think so.” you try to pull away from him but he keeps an arm firmly wrapped around you. “what would your dear old daddy think about his precious little baby sneaking out to town to do gods know what.”

you huff and manage to shake your way out of his arms and hiss at him, “if i am going to get caught i might as well make the most out of it.” you turn away and just pray he truly does not knock on your fathers door and tell him you were here. you thought that would be the last of it and you would not see him again but you hear footsteps trailing behind you and you stop and the footsteps stop too.

you turn around and glare at him while he still has that mischievous grin on his face. “what do you want?” his smirk cant seem to leave his face, “im merely making sure the pretty little pampered princess makes it around okay, wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” you tsk and turn away from him, “fine follow me i dont care.”

you walk for awhile merely looking around the town. “you have no clue where to go huh?” you groan and turn around to him throwing your hands up with annoyance. “yes okay i have no clue where im going i just want to have a little fun but the only place i ever go into town is to the bookstore with aeron but i doubt that would be any fun right now.” you scratch your head in frustration. he takes a step closer to you and you step back, “i can show you somewhere fun.”

You want to say no that he should just go fuck off and leave you alone. but you’re sure he knows a good place to go. is he even trust worthy? no he definitely is not. “fine.” you still cant help but accept his offer and he grabs your forearm and begins to pull you along with him. you almost want to ask him where hes taking you but you dont get the chance before he walks you into a building and you’re immediately hit with the strong smell of alcohol and sweat.

you cough lightly into your fist but he just pulls you against him and continues to walk along. “why are we here?” “where else are we supposed to have fun hmm? you have any ideas?” when you say nothing he hums, “thats what i thought.” when he walks up to the counter and buys the two of you a bottle you take the opportunity to look around the place. It was packed, bodies at every corner and turn, you can see people dancing and turn your head when you see a couple in the corner having way too much fun. suddenly you feel a hand on your ass and turn to look at the guy and he just grins at you.

Benjicot sudden pushes the guy on his chest and glares at him. “get the fuck away from her.” the guy runs away at benjicot’s hard stare and deep voice and you place a hand on your chest to calm your racing heart. you dont know what has your heart racing, the fear or the fact that ben had gotten protective over you.

you shake the feeling from your head you shouldn’t be thinking like that. he is a blackwood for god’s sake. He pulls you to a darker corner of the room and sits you down next to him. pouring you a cup of the ale. The two of you just sit and chat for a while, you hate to admit it but he is good company, hes funny, he pays attention when you talk.

The more and more you drink and the closer and closer you sit next to each other. you don’t know who makes the move first, you think it was him or maybe that was your brain denying it had been you but neither of you reject the action. you grab the collar of his tunic and he grabs your hips, placing you on his lap. his fingers reach down and touch parts of you you never dared to. biting onto the fabric on his neck as your legs quiver from your peak.

Your peak brings a sort of clarity and guilt and dread washes over you as you can feel benjicots hardening cock on your thigh. so you run. you run and run until you can see your home back into view. you cannot believe you had done that and you would never forget it, how could you be so stupid? but as you toss and turn in bed you want to regret it but you cant. you want to see him again. but he’ll probably never want anything to do with you since you ran out on him. this is as it should be you remind yourself you two are supposed to hate each other.

you hope to let yesterday be nothing more than a memory as you tend to the cattle in the afternoon. you hear footsteps approaching and you turn around a smile at the sight of your brother. “brother i…” your words trail off as you see the furious look on his face, “aeron?” “were you in a brothel with benjicot blackwood last night?” you freeze. how could he have found out? “what,, what are you talking about?” you try to laugh it off as a joke but he just glares at you. “answer me.” you shrug as you begin to sweat, “no, that’s ridiculous.” “then why have i been informed you two were seen together last night?”

You feel heat crawling up every inch of your body. you did not want to lie to him but you certainly could not tell him the truth. “i was at the establishment and he let me sit as his table thats all.” “what in the hells were you doing there?” “i am locked here everyday with nothing to do i just wanted to see what it was like brother!”

You can see him having an internal conflict at your words. you want him to believe you. to drop this all in its entirety and move on. but he hardens up and he looks you in the eyes. “did benjicot blackwood touch you?” you straighten up and grab his hands, “no of course he did not aeron.” he turns his head away slight. you can tell he does not believe you and you heart aches, you love your brother but you cannot admit to him the truth.

“Benjicot Blackwood never touched me; I swear this to you, upon the memory of our mother!”

You know its a bad move to bring up your mother, his face completely softens at her mention. he has not been himself since she passed but you know its the one thing to get him to believe you. and he does he nods, “i believe you. im sorry for believing such rumors.” you pull him into a hug and stare out into the distance as he wraps his arms around you. you feel like absolute shit but at least it was over and that was that.

At least until later that day lord blackwood and benjicot show up at your father’s door and you find out benjicot had asked for your hand.

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You're cornered and chased by Bartholomew's minions. Separated from Sam and Cas, you and Dean make a run for it. Lust finds you both when you're finally safe. Dean rocks your world.

Words: 3.4k

A/N: This is smutty part 3 of what's now looking like a longer series since I've settled on a cute, fluffy and smutty part 4. At this point I don't think I'll ever be sated in my need for this man but Im so not sorry about it 😂

I do hope you enjoy part 3. If you haven't read parts 1 and 2 check out the Cherry Pie Kiss Masterlist. As always, I value your comments and feedback. Drop a dime and let me know what you think.

Warnings: Smut. Canon-typical action/adventure. Running for your lives. Bit of angst.

*** 18+ Minors Do Not Read or Interact ***

Dean Winchester.  You hate him.  His stubbornness and stoic grace.  His tenacity and faith that, no matter what, you guys will get it done if you stick together.  The way his eyes pierce you down to your soul when he stares.  At least that’s what you try to tell yourself, hoping that others will believe it too.  Truth is, you’re just as stubborn as he is, holding onto this façade when hatred is so far from what you feel.

Dean sits behind Baby’s wheel, having stormed away from the Gas’n’Sip in frustration.  His eyes follow your every move and your body language as you and Sam try to convince Cas, for the umpteenth time, to come with you.  Dean had taken it personally when Cas had refused, and after several attempts at reasoning, bargaining, and begging, Dean had given up, choosing to sit out any further attempts at persuasion.

You look over at the black Impala with its radiant chrome and glossy darkness.  The man inside looks away out to road not wanting the hurt, so plain on his face, to be seen.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you say to Sam, touching his forearm gently as he continues to reason with the fallen Angel.

You feel compelled to at least try to comfort Dean.  Since you two had talked that night in the dingy room-only motel out in Crocker, you had maintained a stable yet strained connection.  You had still been pissed at him for using you and Sam as bait so you had sent him back to his room with another kiss and the promise of “when I’m ready”.  Since then, you two had never been alone for more than a few minutes; there was always Sam, or witnesses, or monsters.

Dean’s head snaps your way when you pull the door open, his face schooled into that smooth mask he wears when he’s hurt but unwilling to be vulnerable.  Cas’s decision has really hit him hard.

Sliding in the passenger side, you angle yourself towards him and reach to take one of his hands which is picking at the fingernails of his other.  Ordinarily, you wouldn’t risk such a gesture but with Sam a couple of hundred meters away and the height of the dash to obscure it, you’re not worried.

Dean allows the contact, his head hanging.  “Cas made his choice.”  His voice is low and gravelly with emotion.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t change his mind.”  You reason, trying not to throw fuel on the fire.

“He knows where I am if he does.”  He states, matter of fact.  “I’m not wasting another breath on him.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“You’re my best friend.”  Dean looks at you and squeezes your hand which is entwined with his, resting on his thigh.  “You and Sam.”

“I’m just some girl you want to fuck.”  You chuckle, and Deans lips quirk a subtle smirk briefly before he replies.

The words don’t come out, however.  Dean catches movement at the side of the Gas’N’Sip, and he drops your hand to turn over the engine, thrusting the heel of his other hand on Baby’s horn as he does so.

Sam and Cas look in your direction and then see the four figures walking quickly and with purpose, coming between them and the Impala.  Shit!  Angels.  Bartholomew’s minions, no doubt.  How have they found you again?

“Son of a bitch!”  Dean hisses, cranking the car into drive, kicking up stones in the gravel lot as the wheels spin, gaining traction to take you to Sam and Cas.

You fumble your seatbelt, sliding on the seat and right into Dean with a grunt as he swerves to avoid a blacked-out Escalade that grinds to a halt between you and your friends.

Sam and Cas are already on the move, running fast towards the gold Lincoln pimpmobile Cas had somehow acquired, Sam waving Dean off as they scramble into the car and peel out of the lot before the Angels could reach them.  You, however, are stuck.  With the Escalade and four fallen angels between you and the lot exit, Dean turns the wheel, locking it out and put his foot on the gas, spinning the car around with an horrific noise from the tyres.  At the back of the lot is a chainlink fence with a gate that leads to a dirt road which split in two, one branch heading to the highway, the other into scrubland that precedes a dense-looking woodland.  You can lose them in the trees.

Dean winces as he ploughs baby through the chainlink gate, lamenting the damage that is sure to be done, and turns the car towards the highway.

“We can lose them in the trees,” you cry, point to the woods.

“Baby doesn’t have the ground clearance for it,” Dean says roughly, manoeuvring the car through a side-on skid with the heel of his hand on the wheel and his other hand gripping the side of the seat to stop himself from sliding as the car spins.  Once straight, he slams his food on the gas and burns rubber onto the tarmac, heading in the opposite direction to Sam and Cas.

You know he’s right about the car.  The Escalade is 4x4 and sits high which gives it the advantage off road in the woods when the trail inevitably turns to a glorified hiking path.  You’re not even sure the highway is a much better option given that Baby is an older, classic car, but you know Dean keeps her in tip-top shape and she’s got a lot of power under her hood.  That being said, the Escalade could be seen in the rearview, weaving through traffic to catch up to you.

The shrill ring of your phone makes you jump as you try to focus on the road and on what’s behind.  You need to be a second set of eyes for Dean while he’s pushing Baby to create some distance from the Escalade.

“Hey, Sam!”  You sigh with relief, reading his name on your display, putting him on speaker.

“This is Castiel,” the former Angel’s flat tone carries from the phone.  “Sam is driving.  He said I’m too slow.”

You grin big.  That’s a classic Winchester brother thing to do.  From the corner of your eye you see Dean smirk.

“Just tell them we’re headed west and haven’t been followed.”  Sam sighed with mild frustration.

“Damn it’s good to hear your voice, Sammy!”  Dean spoke loudly in that extra deep tone he uses when he is running on adrenalin.  You know he left Cas out because he is still hurt, but you also know he’s glad Cas is safe too.

“We’re headed in the opposite direction,” you explain.  “The vehicle followed us and we’re trying to shake them but they’re keeping up.”

“Pretty soon we’ll run out of traffic, and on the open road we’ll never lose them.”  Dean frowns as he hunts in the rearview for your pursuers.

“Maybe you can head into the wilderness, hole up and set traps.”  Sam offers.  “We can turn around and try to catch up.”

“No!”  Dean snaps.  “You’re both safe.  I want you to stay that way.  Get someplace and lay low.  We’ll get this done and I’ll call you, ok?”

“Dean…”  Cas begins to speak but Dean is having none of it.

“I said No!  Okay?  For once, just do what I say.  We’ve got this.”

You hang up the phone without waiting for a response.  You can see how worked up Dean is, his brain running overtime as he tries to figure out a plan while he’s trying to evade Bartholomew’s lackies on a road full of other cars.

The satellite map on your phone shows a complex set of junctions several miles up ahead where this road meets and crosses with two interstates, branching off in multiple places to service a small city surrounded by a cluster of smaller towns.  It looks promising and Dean agrees.

The junction of the roads has raised on and off ramps that weave in and around the support structures of the main interstate, with frontage roads servicing the branches at intervals.  Traffic is heavy and Dean follows a newer model black Cady onto the interstate by one of the on-ramps, only to cut across the lanes harshly and slip onto a skewed off-ramp, hoping the Escalade will follow the newer Cady.  Slowing down at the end of the off-ramp, he turns to take the frontage road in the opposite direction, heading slowly up the on-ramp for the interstate carriage way going back in the direction from which you had come, so as not to rejoin too soon and be spotted on the other side.

You check all around as soon as you crest the on-ramp back onto the road, praying you don’t see the black government-style vehicle.  Dean doesn’t wait to find out, he puts his foot down and puts a few eighteen wheelers between you and whatever is behind you.

“I think we’re clear,” you say after about fifteen minutes of hypervigilance.

“Don’t jinx it, sweetheart.”  Dean keeps his eyes on the road, the wheel clasped in two white-knuckled fists.

Switching from the interstate to a smaller road and then to another road but still taking you away from where Sam and Cas had headed, Dean starts to relax.  He chances a look at you, to find you looking right back.  The tension in his neck and jaw haven’t melted away yet but he doesn’t have that hard look of focused fury that he usually does when in fight or flight mode.  He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, but the glances between you become more frequent as though you’re both checking on each other to make sure the other is okay, needing to visually check each time.

A sign by the side of the road identifies the beautiful landscape to your left as Black Water Natural Forest, and with the sun beginning to set behind the mountains in the distance, it seems a good place to wait out the sunset.  You point to the sign and Deans nods.  He doesn’t argue, knowing you need a place to park-up off road away from prying eyes to get your bearings and make a plan to meet up with your friends.

As the road gets narrower and the trees get more dense, Dean slows the car, casting furtive glances at you.  It’s making your skin burn, the way he looks at you now, with that hunger in his eyes.  You feel it too.  Weeks of tension built between you, and todays threat to your lives now culminating in a deep need for some kind of release.  You lick your lips, breathing shallow and quick as you try to regain your composure, but Dean isn’t doing much better.  You look at him fully and he all but moans when he sees the look in your eye.

A turn off presents itself that leads to a small muddy lot where hikers can park their cars when they venture out into the forest.  Dean brings Baby to a stop so hard your seatbelt catches you, then he yanks it into park and fumbles for the seal lever.  You unclip your belt as the front seat slides back fully and he reaches for you, helping you straddle his lap.

You waste no time, kissing him fervently as you unbutton your shirt while he tries to push it from your shoulders before it’s open.  Breaths are gasps released between kisses, tongues touching, tasting and tempting more passion, and you succumb to the frenzy of heat that’s born of your need to feel something other than fear.  Your need to feel him.

You’re both a mess of fumbling hands and sloppy kisses as clothes are shucked and skin exposed.  You try to stand, your legs either side of his as you unbutton your jeans and he unclasps his belt.

The loud sound of the Impala’s horn echoes out amongst the trees, startling birds so they take wing and both of you into stillness and silence.

Dean looks at you with panic but then grins and laughs, reaching to tug your jeans down your legs until they’re bunched up around your boots.

It’s awkward but you can still straddle him like this and, as you kneel back onto the black leather seat, he lifts his hips to grind himself impatiently against you.  The desperation in your eyes is matched by the eagerness in his.  He is rapt, eyes absorbing the sights and sounds of your body and of your pleasure as you grind yourself against him.  Your slicked pussy drenching his cock as you slide yourself along his length but deny him entry just when his tip catches at your entrance.

Dean fondles your breasts, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your skin until he reaches your hardening peaks.  His kisses become more suckling then, nibbling them and flicking them firmly with his tongue until you’re almost shaking above him.

“You ready for me?”  You ask, breathless.

“Sweetheart,” he treats you to his classic sultry smirk, “I’ve been ready for you since you moved in.”

You grin, knowing he’s been jonesing for you for that long.  Truth be told, you’d wanted him for longer but the hate you made yourself feel for him was an adequate distraction from it.

Biting your lip, you reach between you, taking his wet shaft in hand and positioning it at your entrance.  Your eyes meet as you begin to skink down on him, inching down in a shallow rocking motion with Dean stroking your hips and waist as you work at it.  He resists the urge to thrust up into you at first, allowing you to get accustomed to him.

When you bottom him out, he presses down on your hips firmly, lifting his just enough to give you a deep pleasurable pressure that has you groaning and your eyes rolling back.

You are tight despite being very wet, and the way you squeeze him has him twitching heavily against your walls.

“Fuck…”  he groans as you begin to move, leaning back slightly so he hits all the right spots inside you.

“I’m not going to last long,” you laugh breathily.

“No problem,” Dean says, his hands gripping your hips hard, helping you ride him a little faster now.  “We’ll get you for two.”

He doesn’t even have to reach down to stroke your clit, you come all by yourself, grinding on him with a sexy roll of your hips he knows should be good for you, your clit rubbing against his soft hair.  He can feel you spasming and clenching around him and it feels like heaven, even better than warm cherry pie hitting his taste buds.

“You feel freaking amazing.”  He growls, pulling you forward to suckle on the delicate skin of your neck.

“Right back at’cha,” you sigh against pleasure.

He rolls you to the side, and lays you on your back on the seat, still buried in you to the hilt.  Looking down at your heated face, your skin glowing from your orgasm, Dean thinks you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, with a possible exception of Baby.  Okay, you’re the most beautiful living thing he’s ever seen.

Looking up at Dean, his brow creased in concentration, his eyes dark with lust, you don’t think you have ever been turned on by anyone as much as this man.  Damn, he’s hot!  Riding the adrenaline of the chase, you had been desperate for an outlet.  Now that is out of your mind, you lose yourself in the man between your thighs, you’re focused solely on the feeling of him buried deep, and the rising tide of pleasure.  The windows steam up as you grind and roll your bodies together, and you think you might combust from the heat of him.

When he meets and holds your gaze, your heart almost stops.  There you see more than just lust, more than just the passion between you.  It’s deep and hidden, secret almost, and it surfaces as affection that softens his eyes.  You reach up to stroke his face as his grinding hips keep their measured pace and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand, closing his eyes with a tender sigh.

His vulnerability in that moment lances electricity to your core and you spasm powerfully around him.  His eyes flash open and he sees you’re close again but he doesn’t grin cockily like he might have done earlier, instead he leans down to kiss you, leaning his forehead on yours as you grip the back of his neck and look into his gorgeous eyes.  With your other hand on his hip, sliding round to his ass you guide the speed and depth of his thrusts and you roll your hips to meet his.

As you guide him to slow down he thinks he’ll lose the pleasure he’s cultivated so far but he can now feel more of you and it’s more intense because it’s slow and prolonged.  He almost laughs at how it changes everything and he gasps with surprise when he starts to feel his orgasm coming.  He knows he needs to pull out but you hold him on place with your hands and your heels.

“Give me everything,” you moan as you feel him swell.  “I need to feel you, nice and deep.”

Dean groans with pleasure watching your eyes sparkle with heat for him.

“I want it,” you almost beg.  “Want you.”

He nods, biting his lip as bends to your desire.

Spurred on by your permission, Dean thrusts deeper until he bottoms out, moaning your name as he comes deep inside you.  Your walls contract as he fills you, your climax a deep rolling pleasure that courses your whole body.  Everything feels so right, he feels right.  The way you two fit, the way he makes you feel.  It’s like a low-key destiny you’re more than willing to succumb to.

Dean doesn’t just pull out and get off you once you’re both done, he flips you so your lay on his chest.  There he holds you and strokes you back and hips, your hair and your face until you lift your head to look at him.  Then he smirks cockily and you swat his chest.

“You don’t have to look so smug about it,” you chastise him.

“Hey, I keep my promises,” he says with that trademark smirk playing on his plush lips.  “Would’a give you more but we’re kinda on the run here, sweetheart.”

“You can owe me, how ‘bout that?”  You push yourself up and try to find your clothes.

He grins at the confirmation that this isn’t just a one-time deal.  “Hell yeah!  Sign me up.”

You clean up with wipes from your travel bag as Dean calls Sam.  You watch the relieved interaction from the front fender of Baby while Dean paces in the dirt a few meters away.  You apply some flavoured lip balm to your kiss bruised lips as he works out the logistics of meeting up and what to do about Bartholomew.

After the call, Dean beelines straight for you, sliding his hands around your waist and burying his face in your neck, kissing playfully.

“I take it we’ve got a few hours at least until we can meet Sam and Cas.”  You thread your fingers through his messy hair, trailing your fingernails over his scalp which he seems to really like.

“Several.”  He says against your delicate skin.

“Whatever are we gonna do to pass the time?”  You smile as you picture the pair of you fucking all over his car.

“I can think of a few things,” he surfaces with a hungry look, leaning back in to kiss you.

Your soft lips claim his once more as you melt into his arms, the kiss heated and full of need.  Dean kisses you with such force it steals your breath and makes your knees weak, and when he pulls back he looks at you thoughtfully.  Licking his lips and tasting you on them, he grins.

“Cherry,” his eyes go to your lips again, “I like it.”

Dean’s talented tongue makes you forget any quip you might have said, as he lifts you onto Baby’s hood and keeps his promise.

[st-hedge]

I said a while ago that for totk’s one anniversary I would write a weird little review of the game in which I throw roses at it while simultaneously slandering it. So I made an attempt which is very abbreviated

Disclaimer: I’m not telling u how u should feel about totk or what’s the right way to feel about it, I’m just trying to make sense of why the game frustrates me and putting it into words. It’s completely fine if u disagree with me, I’m not pitching an argument but just putting words on paper

Totk is one of the best games I’ve ever had the opportunity to play. The mechanics, the music, the designs, the revised world of hyrule, makes me want to curl up on the floor and cry. It is stunning and done with so much love. Where botw had lacked, totk has improved and gone above and beyond. It had frustrated me that botw only allowed us to explore the ground surface, but botw was an exploration into open world games which allowed for totk to happen. The caves, the boats, the islands, and the depths add so much to already such a vast world. I only wish there was also diving but beggars can’t be choosers beh

Although it still doesn’t make too much sense to me why all weapons are suddenly corrupted, I do love the new weapons system. I love how it gives more variety to explore. Materials which previously sat unused in the inventory are now key and nothing feels like a waste to collect. Even rupees have found another use. I’m not the biggest fan of the zonai devices but the addition feels like a love letter to the creativity of the fan base and it feels at place. They help to traverse an otherwise huge and intimidating world. But at times I feel like they give too much leverage and break down too many boundaries and leave little to solve and explore. What im basically saying is fuck the rockets.

I feel that totk doesn’t have enough progress boundaries that make u pause and explore what u have at hand. I found myself just pushing and pushing, forgetting and leaving behind areas I barely touched. It felt too easy getting into the sky and returning to the islands and they lost some of their mystery to me. I think this would have been a great opportunity to reintroduce the loftwings from skyward sword. I’ve talked before about how much this would make sense for totk. The loftwings could be a means to cross boundaries and explore new territories, but it takes time to catch and tame one as a companion. But like horses they should have their limits, presenting new boundaries u need to overcome again

Where the totk’s hyrule begins to confuse and disappoint me goes hand in hand with my main issue (confusion?) with the game. Although botw felt incomplete (the world was a little sparse and one dimensional), the story was comprehensive and clear. Meanwhile, totk has a complete and lively world but it doesn’t have a story to carry

Totk’s story doesn’t have an identity I can grasp and understand. It’s like it doesn’t know what it wants to tell the player, what story it wants to direct them to. On one hand, it seems to want us to know about the origins of hyrule and the mysterious landmarks and characters that are permanent fixtures in this world (castle, ruins, dragons) but at the same time it suddenly wants to do a retelling of OoT and about the sages and these secret stones. But the game never completes any of these stories. Maybe it wants to tell us these stories through the environment, but there is just not enough embedded into the world to grasp and tie together into a narrative. Which is ironic considering how big the world is

We begin to be told the story of the dragons, we suddenly understand how they came to be (the secret stones). But we are never told about the events of their creation (an act of desperation, like Zelda’s) and we are never close to understanding them. Then we are told about the sages, but meeting them tells us nothing new. No new cutscenes, no new items or lore directly related to them. The new sages are found, but didn’t we just discover the divine beasts with them? Suddenly another layer of importance is added to them which makes the ties between legacy and the current sages muddier. I wish there had been focus on them creating their own legacy instead

I think totk could’ve had a very interesting story to tell if it chose what it wants to focus on. Maybe the secret stones were introduced just as a way for Zelda to become a dragon? I dunno

There are so many new places that feel like fantastic opportunities for moments of pause and to uncover lore, unearth memories. But instead they’re brisk puzzles or empty sites. Like the graveyard underneath the desert, the forge islands, the factories, and the fucking poe statues. Tell me as much as u want that I can’t read environmental story telling, but I’ll just keep saying there’s nothing to read into cuz the game doesn’t know what it wants to say. There’s no thread to follow in the way there was with, for example, the graveyard at the spirit temple in OoT. We could’ve been just left with a strange well and a graveyard and told to figure it out, but a thread is laid down that these are the skeletons in the royal family’s closet.

Totk does have amazing moments, like Zelda meeting her ancestors and giving up her identity to become a living legend to revive the master sword, the discovery of the ancient temples, the story of the zonai and their origins. But these are just pieces with many loose ends around them that go nowhere. Even Ganon is left as a loose end where there was so much opportunity to say something worth saying. He seems comically evil with bogstandard bah I want to rule the world lines. If u want to make a case for evil for the sake of evil, u can at least show me a character repeatedly making horrible choices which lead them to the current predicament. Just like totk’s hyrule, he is lovingly designed but he tells absolutely no story

If the reason behind the lack of story is that the devs/writers wanted us to make our own story out of this, then I think this is a case where it was a poor choice. The fans can make theories, hcs, pick up pieces and make AUs, but we also love the stories told by the games and it’s what inspires us to uncover more stories (hey wanna talk about tp and why we hear Malon’s song at night, or what’s up with the empty desert)

I’d love to see totk from the perspective of someone who had never played or known botw. Did it really help to remove any traces of sheikah tech besides the labs and the guardian limbs in the towers. Although the zonai devices and the sheikah tech are from different time periods, totk was a perfect opportunity to marry the two elements together. The shrines and the divine beasts could’ve collapsed into the depths, but instead they have just vanished like erased history

Totk’s story doesn’t have an identity in the same way botw’s does. Even though botw’s hyrule was much smaller and emptier, we found stories there cuz we knew what that game was trying to tell us. If totk is about making sacrifices, then this message feels obsolete by the end. U should make sacrifices, but u will only be happy again if it all goes back to exactly how it was before

As happy and sweet the ending is, it made all the worry and sadness I felt seem pointless cuz of course everything would reset back to the norm cuz how else would this game have a happy ending. What was there to worry about. Yeah so what that Zelda became a dragon losing herself, she was just asleep the entire time and effortlessly she becomes her normal self. So what that link lost his sword arm, of course he would miraculously get it back even though it took him 100 years to recover from a mortal wound. No trace of the things they withstood and lost, no mark, nothing.

I loved the final battle and spectacle of the dragons struggling against each other in the sky. The battle went from the deepest depths to the highest reaches of the sky and I thought it was perfect. But once again how the story concluded and the logic behind it me made me feel like I was chewing on sand and the idyllic ending just made me look about in confusion

TLDR; totk is an amazing game with a stunning world that lacks a comprehensive story to tell

I hoped that I would get a better understanding why I’m so frustrated by totk, but instead I just feel even more confused by it and I think that’s just how I’ll have to leave it

[free-boundsoul]

I keep thinking about the ea

I have a few thoughts. Pre warning I shoulda been in bed 2 hours ago so imma little loopy

Im picking up early Gavin vibes from Porter, in the way that he's always mentioning his Empowered-ness to Treasure. Always reminding them that he is 'other'. (Maybe he's trying to maintain a boundary by reminding himself that they are unempowered and mortal and he doesn't have an eternity with him. And he doesn't want to bring them into it when he's afraid of losing his own life by stepping out of line)

"I said, no you don’t. You couldn’t possibly understand what this is like, you’re a human."

Oof Porter, this fucking stung. Also felt a bit...belittling? I think that's the word I'm thinking of. Which felt even worse when he compared their "problems" were mundane and his held so much more weight. (Which, in the grand scheme of things, is probably true. But we shouldn't weigh one thing over another. You never know what someone is going through. What they could be hiding. How their life is going and how close they are to the edge. How one wrong word or action could be the straw that breaks the camels back. Pain shouldn't be measured)

"Now that’s rich, coming from you. Tell me, have you ever taken more than a moment to think of the chain of events that has led to us standing here in this room together? The kind of internal tumult that has led you here into the arms of a total stranger, inconceivably vast power imbalance and all? And you think I’m the only one who needs help? You think you have a leg to stand on telling me that I need to work on myself while being completely blind to your own issues? Those are some beautiful stones you’ve been throwing in this glass house, wherever did you get them? God. When I want to be false-therapized and patronized by a hypocrite, I’ll let you know."

My first thought (after the pain that sparked in my chest at this dig) was that what if Treasure is going to therapy? Trying to better themselves after meeting Porter because he was right. Their friends did take advantage of them and they had been too scared to talk about it, confront them. They wanted to be better for him but was scared to admit that they were going to therapy because of things they heard growing up. That therapy was a weakness or a waste of money. It was only for crazy people or people who had trauma and their life wasn't so bad.

They can see that Porter is suffering. He needs a healthy outlet. And communication is key to any relationship. They didn't communicate well enough to their friends, so they want to communicate with Porter, be there for him like no one was for them until him.

But they're only human, and they're new to this and they can't help but feel frustrated. They say things they regret. It's a folly of being a person.

"What’s that? Say it with your full chest, Treasure. If you want the words to hurt, you have to say it like you mean them. No no, come on now. Say it. Spit it. Let’s be honest with each other for once, all the way. Good. And now, in return: I’m not the only coward in this room. If you think for one second that what we have here isn’t both of us running away, then you need to turn that appraising gaze inward for a bit. If I’m avoidant, then my god, what does that make you?"

Im sorry but my only thought with this was imagining Porter lightly holding their throat, fingers pressing lightly enough for them to feel it as he leans in close. His breath ghosting their cheek as he keeps those silver eyes, swirling with frustration and pain, locked on theirs.

"So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go figure out what I need to do to save a few dozen lives, if not multiple Houses. I’ll leave you to solve whatever your equivalent conundrum would be, like… should you actually do your laundry tonight or just push the pile farther over on the bed? Again? Good night."

Of course he had to get the last words in and they are scathing.

Now, I keep thinking about how Treasure might react and there are too many options.

Treasure fixating on the fact that because they are human, they aren't enough to be in a relationship with Porter. Maybe they go to Wonderworld to see if anyone there would turn them?

Treasure distancing themselves from Porter. If their problems are so mundane, they won't talk about them. Whenever Porter asks how their day was it just becomes "Oh, it was fine. Nothing interesting happened." No matter if the day was joyous or frustrating or even devastating. Their 'human' worries can't compare to all that Porter is going though, they shouldn't waste his time on them.

Treasure feeling like they're only a distraction that Porter picked up so he could momentarily forget what he does for his King. They wanted a relationship with him. But how could they be with him if they only have seen one side to him? Eventually people get bored of a distraction, right? How long would it take for Porter to lose interest and then he'd be gone?

Darkest turn would be if Treasure asked Porter to make them forget about the Empowered world. He was right, they were only human. They didn't belong in his life after all, leaving Porter to be the only one who remembered the time they spent together.

But I mean... it could always end up in angry make up sex too. 🤷‍♀️

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

i need a mark lee drabble so bad like hes soo attractive 🫡🫡

I highkey owe yall a mark fic so even though this was submitted after closing i'll indulge lol.

Hes a little drabble from a WIP im supposed to be working on lmaoooo. I have no idea when it will be done, but nothings set in stone so if you wanna see certain elements in this fic lmk and ill put em to the side once i get to writing this.

Baby, I'm a rockstar Mark x reader sneak peak

“You only joined to get back at me!” Mark insists, his tone a mix of frustration and accusation.

“Hmm, not quite. I also joined to sleep with Jeno,” you reply, shrugging nonchalantly as you lean against the wall, trying to mask the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Mark’s band, Limitless, had recently lost its lead singer, Yuta, who had been signed to a major label, effectively sidelining the rest of the group. The sudden vacancy left the members feeling tense and unsure of their future as a band.

Mark posted about the opening along with the audition details, you felt an irresistible pull to be there. It was a chance to reclaim some of the passion you once shared with music—just as much as it was an opportunity to confront Mark again.

Your relationship with him had ended on shaky terms; he had chosen the band over you, pouring himself into rehearsals and gigs, and leaving little room for anything else. You often wondered if he had ever truly cared, or if you had just been a distraction from his ambitions. Now, it was hard to resist throwing barbs his way whenever possible, letting him know exactly how you felt about his choices.

Mark crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Right, because you couldn’t possibly be interested in the music.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Oh, please. I live for music. But let’s be real; having a shot at a date with Jeno is a nice bonus, too. Just imagine how awkward that’ll make it for you when you see us together.”

His face twists in annoyance, but you can’t quite tell if he’s more irritated by your boldness or the idea of you moving on without him. You relish in the tension, eager to remind him of everything he lost. After all, he left you for the band, and now you were back, ready to disrupt his world just like he had disrupted yours.

“You're childish! You're wasting my time. I know you don’t really care about this,” Mark snaps, exasperation etched across his face.

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you retort, arching an eyebrow. A smirk creeps onto your lips as you continue, “Your band members agree. They voted me in, remember?” You watch as he clenches his jaw, trying to reign in his frustration. “And the last time I checked, you needed a singer—and now you’ve got one.”

“You—” Mark starts, but then he stops mid-sentence, clearly grappling with his emotions.

“Huh? What’s that?” you prompt, leaning in slightly, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the air crackles with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that wants to lash out versus the part that knows you’re right. It’s almost satisfying to watch him struggle, to see the realization that his band’s fate now rests in your hands. The smile on your face widens, fueled by the thrill of the challenge and the satisfaction of reclaiming your voice—both in music and in this ongoing rivalry.

“Let me catch you slip up, I’ll give you hell” He spits, shoulder-checking you on his way out of the practice room.

Oh you were going to have so much fun fucking with him.

[dead-dolphins]

ROOOO!!! i need you to write a heiress mikasa who looks exactly like this goddess right here, a woman so magnetizing that every man is obsessed with her and everytime she goes out no one can take their eyes off her, and she's used to this so she really doesn't care about the constant male attention because at her age. she's never felt attracted by a man before. until she meets eren yeager, his father's new business partner (and older than her ofc) and she immediately feels attracted to him but it seems like he's the only man who doesn't seems affected by her beauty and that lowkey offends her as it motivates her to seduce him because she NEEDS that man to be hers as it is the first time she feels this kind of feelings for someone in her whole life, but no matter what she does, it seems eren is not interested in her at all and he even avoids her like the plague sometimes. what she doesn't know is that poor eren is with his hands tied because from the moment he and her father started to talk about business, her father threatened him to be VERY VERY careful with his daughter because he knew eren had a fame of being a manwhore who refused to get married and only had flings with models, singers and even A list actresses and he never took them seriously, and her father knew very well what her daughter's beauty does to do in men like eren so he warned him about not even looking at her or there would be no business between them, BUT THE MAN IS STRUGGLING TO EVEN BREATHE AROUND MIKASA because he DOES want her so freaking much to the point of infatuation because in every attempt of hers to seduce him, she showed to him sides of her that no one ever knew and he's so down bad for her in secret that he's even contemplating the idea of marrying her. but at the same time, her father and his whole family (kenny and levi) are so freaking scary and so protective of her and he doesn't know how much he's going to resist the temptation because he doesn't want to get his dick chopped, WHO SAID CLICHÉ? oops, it was me 😭

IM SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE BUT IM SORRY WHAT?????????? PARDON??????? BRAT HEIRESS MIKASA AND THIS RIGHT HAND EREN? AND OLDER????????? OH I FUCKING LOVE YOUR MIND 😭😭😭😭

I can just see her with that bratty "look at me" vibe, always finding an excuse to be near him whenever Eren’s around. She’d throw those little glances his way, maybe even try to flirt with someone else just to get a rise out of him 😭😭. But does he take the bait? Nope! He’s like a stone, not even flinching, keeping everything locked up tight. You know he’s probably battling all these intense emotions inside, but he doesn’t let a single one show. It’s almost frustrating how good he is at hiding everything behind that cool, indifferent mask. OMGSGHSSY it’s driving me crazy just thinking about it!

Also, I dunno if you have watched this movie “clueless”? she is giving me Cher in this one but MORE BRATTY!!

[isa-ah]

so heres my pitch for what happens before dimple shows up in the icmhwau:

teruki and mob are hanging out in the middle of one of black vinegars soccer fields. its after school and the sky is heavy and grey, but it hasnt started to rain just yet. mob snuck a milk carton on his way out so he could come see one of the stray cats that sometimes wander onto the school grounds. this one he knows from sitting by for terukis soccer practice over the last few months.

while hes bent down, making soft sounds and petting it, teruki is standing behind him, hands jammed in his pockets and sneering bc he doesnt do. exactly great. not being the center of attention. hes tapping his toe and waiting for mob to get it over with so they can go when theres this big crack of thunder overhead and the cat goes skittering off toward the trees- just as the sky opens up and theres one of those heavy late spring downpours.

teruki is taken offguard, bracing for the rain, when he realizes hes still stood there dry. mobs got a hand up, having thrown a barrier over them reflexively, and humming his disappointment. he stands, dusting his knees off, and when he turns around teruki tries to look like he hasnt just been standing there watching the whole time.

"can we go now?" rude. but no more rude than he usually is, so mob doesnt really mind. he hums his affirmation but pauses, and then shakes his head. teruki frowns and turns fully toward him in response.

mob kinda stands there, hands flexing and unflexing cause hes really not good at putting things into words in this au. it drags on long enough that teruki is just starting to pull away with a scoff when he is stopped cold like he took a stone to the head.

"teru."

that gets his attention in a big way that makes his stomach roil. mobs never addressed him like this before- maybe a soft hanazawa-kun when he needed to, but the nickname cuts straight to the core and he is on guard immediately.

"i.. was thinking."

and now he is feeling outright defensive. a thousand scenarios playing out right like is mob sick of this? is this going to be bad news? is he trying to sugar coat it? and then, worst case scenario; mob steps forward, and starts to reach for him. his hands are small and bruised, little scars and bandages wrapped around his fingers. teruki put those there, and it feels like an intimacy too sacred and mortifying to be broached.

so teruki panics.

"DONT TOUCH ME!" slapping his hands aside. "you just laid hands on that disgusting vermin, its probably diseased."

and mob stands there looking so shocked teruki feels a thrill of success. derailed. whatever was about to happen has been successfully derailed. he preens, starting to turn to pull the lead before mob can recover, but mob speaks before he can get very far.

"cats are actually very good at grooming." tone flat, dry. it gets under terukis skin. mob never objects.

"yeah right. like im going to hear about hygiene from a brute like you." baseless, and mean, the kind of cutting comment he throws around easy but it seems to catch mob off guard this time.

hes frowning, brows turned down and his hair ruffled by a wind that cant reach them through his barrier. teruki sneers and mob shoves him, hands splayed into his ribs in frustrated defiance. teruki scoffs and pushes him tumbling back onto his ass, standing over him.

& its just instinct tbh, at this point, learned experience from watching teruki get backed into corners with his mouth, when mob mutters, "youre mean." and when teruki looks surprised, he continues. "youre a very mean person."

which teruki is taken aback by. "oh, as if! you dont have a high horse, not when youre just some commoner who happens to listen to instruction better than the rest of them. like you havent picked plenty of your own fights, too." that sort of thing. "its embarrassing that youd even try to come after me when youre just some- some nobody."

& its clearly reaching its mark bc as teruki talks, mobs curling his fingers into the grass and bits of dirt and torn blades are starting to curl up into the stagnant, humid air around them. his hairs started to lift and he looks unhappy.

"oh dont look so surprised. you knew what this was. and beyond that- you dont scare me, kageyama. i could kick your ass and still-"

hes cut off by this dizzying woosh, this spike of energy that makes his head spin, and the vertigo only intensifies as he looks around and realizes the barrier is gone; its not that the rain isnt landing on them, its that the rain isnt landing at all.

mob was definitely not radiating unadulterated power like this last time. he may have.. miscalculated his approach.

& you can imagine it from there. teruki panics and lashes out first, which pushes mob over the edge and suddenly theyre fighting and its UGLY. it makes their initial fight look like a joke. it makes the soccer field look like a battleground. it knocks teru half conscious, held by the throat in mobs sweaty, burning grip with blood dripping into his eyes when hes got an abrupt sense of nausea and something eye piercingly green shoots out his nose with an unceremonious, "oh jesus, kid."

im not like, a writer, but you get the idea. fill it in to be better than i could do it LOLOL mob tried to finally put into words, somewhat, what he feels about teruki, which made teruki FREAK because he doesnt know how to be vulnerable like that, he lashes out at mob, mob lashes out back, the autistic immovable object vs the unstoppable adhd force leading into an rsd death spiral. messy. awful. mob knocks the snot (dimple) out of him lololol

[kezzanza]

im not even going to pretend i know jude more than anyone else. but it's honestly so irritating how so many people (fans but haters ESPECIALLY) think they know jude so fucking well. erling gets a bild "dressing room cancer" article and it was irrelevant in weeks as it should be. JUDEE gets one and i dont think ill ever stop seeing it and its 2024. even before he joined madrid everyone and their mother said him and vini will basically blow up the dressing room. didn't happen. kylian coming soon and thats already all we hear. probably wont happen AGAIN.

there's people crying that jude forgot bvb. i clicked on random malen post in march this year and jude was right THERE in those comments. jude forgot about bvb but when jude sent hummels "all the best mate" comment on his post about leaving the team some fans said it's pr. jude doesn't like every single bvb player. is that a crime? gio, haaland, renier, sancho were judes closest friends in bvb. those are who jude talks about most. whats the issue? they more or less still keep contact on ig or during games and they were in bvb. how can jude forget bvb if he literally talks to these guys or do the goalposts shift again?

english media and their wish to bring down players targeting jude AGAIN. apparently jude is only liked by taa? so why do rice saka and kobbii comment on his posts? why do england training videos have an entire section thats just jude hugging people? stone stoney, shaw, konsa ... ive literally seen every single one of them hugging jude WILLINGLY for gods SAKEEE!!!

when hes nice, it pr. he's lil broing players. he's trying to hard to be a captain. when hes the tiniest bit unpalatable, its ego and its bc he's in madrid. jude used to get in fights mid match in bvb like hes so calm right now, are being serious? jude will never be the mild and easy going black player they want him to be!!! he is not an angel and doesn't have to be. he's young and confident and loves win. he will do whatever to win. he gets very frustrated when he looses. is it a crime?? did he pick on someone else as be the reason they lost? did he say southgate is shit? did he throw a shoe at someone? GROW UPPPPPP!!

[gaming-thoughts-by-an-idiot]

Fable 2, may the frustration begin!

"Alrighty, let's go, I've already had a break after crying about Rose and Sparrow and I just named the dog Snape"

"Fuckin hell, there's a hurricane outside haha hope it doesn't take away the power haha"

"Woow, the shirt I'm wearing is -5.0 attractive! That's so mean!"

"I put my wagon up for rent cuz im smart this time"

Game: someone just tried to flirt with you

Me: damn, bad taste

"Theresa just said 'come with me' AND THEN WALKED IN THE WAY. MOVE BITCH MOOOOVE"

Theresa: when you come out from there, you're gonna be stronger-- much stronger

Me: from puberty

"Snape found something... it's a Ball! Thank god, I thought it was gonna be a condom"

"The controllers are a bit awkward, but that's probably more on me since I've been playing more pc lately"

"Old tomb, oh no Snape is scared! My baby:("

Game: this is what the different colour orbs mean

Me, laughing awkwardly: haha yeah I'm not gonna remember that

"Sluuurp it up like bubble tea!... oh ew"

*opens a chest*

*dog barks*

Me: yeah thanks I already found it...

"I think this is actually one of the times I prefer shooting enemies"

*actually uses the melee weapon*

"Oh, no I think I'm still a melee weapon bastard"

"There's some letters on some skeletons and they're all like 'I'm gonna poison my mates' so yeah they all poisoned eachother, brilliant"

"Ya know, the orbs are kinda like bubble tea... I've only had apple, oh or maybe frog eggs... you know what? Nevermind."

"Savin station, gotta love mah savin station"

Game, after I've slurped up the orbs: outstanding work!

Me: thank you! You know, I like this kinda of encouragement

*orbs slurped up and character glowing and stepping back*

Me: iiiiiii don't wanna say what I'm thinking but I'm gonna anyways... she just had an orgasm

"Oh look, a bright light in the middle of the room, that doesn't scream 'sword in the stone' at all"

Theresa: there were many with the hero blood in their veins, then there were none-

Me: cuz someone decided to be asexual

Theresa: now, step into the circle

Me: last time I did that my sister and then myself got shot soooo

"Fine, I'll step into the light"

"Holy shit, I just saw her underwear cuz of the animation"

"Crap she's talking about the orbs"

"Something about Will"

"Ooh, I spot another water dive thing"

"Omg swim faster, what? There's a rock in the way? Well fuck it and swim through it"

"If this is a condom- oh a weapon, nice"

"Ooooh... B is NOT the swim faster.. A is hahaaah oops"

"Ohohoh, a bunny! Ooh I can run?? Ooh I can throw the force? Hehe get back here ya lil shit. Fucking hell, yeah you get away this time! Until I figure out the controls, that is"

"Theres supposed to be a door here, Where's the door"

"Oh there it is, cant do anything about it I'm sure but there is it"

"Oh no, it's the smart door"

"I cant even laugh, the author door wasn't mean about it, unless it was and I'm just stupid"

"Damn, this guard really looked at this teen(?) And went 'yeah you look like a person who can fight, go do our job' like thanks I guess"

"Time to fight a bitch"

"Came a guy by, name Dick, and I had to take the safety off so I could kill him"

"But I'm the good guy I promise"

Game: you inhabit a morally grey area, doing what you feel like, when you feel like it

Me: wow, that is just me in every game ever holy shit

"Some times the sound will just disappear and its the game which makes this annoying, or I think it is..."

"It was the xbox, that decided mid game that switching sound source would be fun, and it was not fun"

"I hope I saved..."

"Almost pressed new character, scared me"

"I should delete the other saves..."

"I'm trying to get a discount with a trader by being funny"

"Hehe 19% off"

"Oh right, heart means they love me... this is gonna be a nightmare"

"Oh my god what have I created, corset, short shorts and long boots oh no I look like a whore"

"Theresa is gonna be so disappointed like 'I left you alone for ONE minute' omg"

"But atleast I'm 20% hot"

"The Y button is NOT inventory!!"

"Omg, her new hair... and make up... jesus"

"So, how attractive am I? 20% for clothes, 10% for hair and 12% for make up, that's pretty good, I mean I look like a slut but ya know"

"Crap, I was gonna go see Theresa"

"I've just been crying while trying to make swords and it's probably horrible, I'm so sweaty from the anxiety but I made 336 coins"

"I changed my name to dumpling and I'm feeling weird about it"

"Earning money so I can buy houses so I can be a horrible landowner to put rent up so I can continue this"

Game: you're now a blacksmith!

Me: jesus christ no

Game: you've successfully made 7 swords

Me: don't @ me like that, I have emotions

Game: this villager is attracted to you-

Me: that's a first

"Heheh, this man loves me, and now I got 25% off"

"I stole something from a chest and it gave me +5 in evil and guess what it is? A fucking condom"

"I got evil for stealing a condom"

"Eeehhh, looks like i gotta play more lute to get that up"

"Hehe"

"Fable is just like stitch, need to get my good-ness level up"

"I've earned 3k and only 82 swords but I also lost like 400years of my lifetime die to stress so"

"I need 400 more to buy a house ugh"

[my-precious-hellscape]

hey! i saw you responded to my ask. im the "you arent a terf" fella.

i do understand that you are frustrated about the whole label of bi lesbian, and reading your points i sympathise with you more. my original message does come off as harsh at some points and i apologize about that. ill attempt to be more considerate in the future.

i dont think bi lesbians are trying to invade your community or anything, i think they are simply trying to establish one of their own. of course you can say you are a mono lesbian, which is a term ive seen used, and build community around that, but i can understand any hesitance to use it.

with your definition of lesbian being centered around not being attracted to men, what do you think about lesbians being attracted to genderfluid or bigender or any multigendered person that also includes being a man in their description for that matter? because they dont fall into the non-men catagory. part of their gender identity is a man. this isnt supposed to be a gotcha or anything, just genuinely curious about your opinion now.

any discourse boils down to throwing insults nowerdays. people get angry and they express it and get rid of it by hurling insults. not saying its right though. for me i just get incredibly anxious and then start getting overly defensive, so i send asks trying to defend people.

it is a bit funny that people called you a terf though, you being a trans woman and all. its ironic. it ultimately ends up with the word being watered down from over-use. i dont think the people saying man or dude in the other asks were being intentionally malicious, its most probably just apart of their vernacular, though it doesnt make the fact that you were misgendered suddenly disappear and i do understand that that can be upsetting, i am trans myself.

Heeeeyy, sorry for the late reply been dealing with stuff and still suffering from a cold rn. You're good, like I mentioned last time you were still the kindest message I got. I guess I'll just go one question at a time?

"i dont think bi lesbians are trying to invade your community or anything..." I mean, regardless whether they intend to or not, they still are. However, that does begs the question if informing them about the significance of their label and the impact it has could be a good way to address the issue and make them chose something else...

"of course you can say you are a mono lesbian..." How long until that gets invaded? Considering how people have been reacting to Lesbians defending their label right now, are we just to migrate from one label to the next (This is hyperbole but I honestly wouldn't even be surprised if that was what is expected of us at this point)? Not to mention, if I may be so direct, that's literally the same solution I suggested just in the opposite direction.

"with your definition of lesbian being centered around not being attracted to men..." My opinion? Don't have one. I can't say I have encountered that situation before and I don't know where the consensus lies but if I had to go with my gut feeling I'd say it's fine as long as the multi-gendered identifies as fem at all. This isn't set in stone though (most of my opinions aren't).

"any discourse boils down to throwing insults nowerdays..." It's understandable people get angry especially when their identity gets questioned. Considering the many, many, maaaany years of oppression LGBTQIA peeps have lived under, it honestly might even be a fairly healthy response. Inside queer discourse however, it does nothing but do harm.

"it is a bit funny that people called you a terf though, you being a trans woman and all. its ironic..." 'funny' and 'ironic' are certainly terms you could use to describe the situation, though personally I would chose something more along the lines of 'vile', 'malicious' or 'despicable'. That terf as a term gets overused is old news but I do agree with you

"i dont think the people saying man or dude in the other asks were being intentionally malicious..." Optimistic, but thank you for your sympathy. I actually just reblogged a post that addressed this very thing, let me quote her real quick. "If you can't stop yourself from referring to trans women with masculine gendered terms when you disagree with them, why should anyone listen to you when you're saying something about gender?" -@sailorportia

Once again it was a pleasure talking to you! Please feel free to ask me anything else or just drop by if you ever want to chat!

[ceilingfan5]

7 (How do you choose which POV to write from?), 19 )What is the most-used tag on your ao3?), 23 (Best writing advice for other writers?), 24 (Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?), 42 (What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?), 52 (Do you respond to comments, why or why not?), 53 (How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?), and 54 (What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?)

i wanna ask more but we'll be here all day sldkfsdf

thank u !! -ise

first of all ise let it be said that you are doing incredible work by pasting the questions so i dont have to. tumblrs text editor leaves lots to be desired.

7 (How do you choose which POV to write from?)

okay mostly it is vibes and funsies. sometimes an au just hands you a guy. i love switching povs when i do long taakitz fics bc i love both these idiots so much and i love how same and different their internal narration can be, and also i fucking live for the dramatic irony the regular pov switch allows. ("taako looks at him some type of way kravitz can't possibly begin to understand" sort of thing) but also like. sometimes a given scenario screams a certain guy? it's what's fun. mostly.

19 )What is the most-used tag on your ao3?)

if we are talking taz fics only. kissing (12) guess i need to write more fics with tentacles (4)

23 (Best writing advice for other writers?)

you have to roll around in it and you have to find the joy it is imperative

24 (Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?)

fuck any perception of writing as #content or anything focused on numbers. also fuck pretentious assholes who don't appreciate fanfic. also fuck the idea that fanfic is a stepping stone to "real writing"

42 (What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?)

mine & hell yeah

but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh jesus christ the last fic i read on ao3 was noodyl's blupjeans week fic I PhDo which was loads of fun. man i haven't read much lately. stares at my folded hands

52 (Do you respond to comments, why or why not?)

almost never and not bc im mean or Above It or whatever, unelss i am directly responding to a question/item of note mostly i don't know what to say and i become a shaking shaving foam facsimile of a small and unwell dog trying to say anything besides Thank You For Your Attention. you??? like????? the words?????????? good job you are A+ liker and i will carry your soul up the ladder to heaven in my teeth

53 (How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?)

it's........................up there. i mostly write em. and i reread my own fics bc they were written for me and have all the tropes i like. and finding new fics frustrates me. i want to be handed them already selected and trustworthy like deific kibble

noodyl's stuff rules tho

54 (What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?)

the part where you get so possessed your eyes go white and the power flows right through you

or the fucking around and throwing spaghetti stage. or the comments

it's a good hobby actually

[strwbrrypoundcake]

For anyone who wants to recover on their own but isn't sure how, here's how I plan to do it once I reach my ugw

Look up how many calories you need to maintain the weight you are at

Increase your calories by 100 every week or 2 weeks until you are at that number (some examples are switching from sugar free coffee creamer to regular coffee creamer, adding more protein powder in smoothies etc. and you can always add a protein shake but make sure you add lots of protein)

Other examples are switching from nonfat to low-fat yogurt, then to full fat yogurt. Adding granola to yogurt is also a great way to increase calories. Adding an egg to whatever breakfast you eat. If you already eat eggs for breakfast try adding low-fat yogurt or toast with peanut butter. You can even use wheat bread so you're still being healthy

Once a week, have a bite of a fear food. A candy bar, pasta, take out etc. Then throw it away or find someone in your life who will take it.

Switch to easy bodyweight/weightlifting workouts, it will help you put on lean muscle so when you do gain weight(it won't be that much) it doesn't really look like you've gain. It will be slightly more than if you were putting on fat instead but you will look mostly the same, just healthier

Every morning, write down what you want out of recovery. "I want to be able to go out with friends and not worry about how I look or the food I will eat" "I want to grow my hair" "I want to be stronger" etc. even if it's the same every morning, write it down

Start journaling. Before anyone groans (which I totally understand if you do) I know more than anyone how annoying being told to journal is. It's been shoved down my throat my whole life. But this journal has a purpose. Every time you are triggered, seeing someone skinny, a fight with someone who affects you, abuse etc. You write down what happened, why you are triggered, what your immediate response is (like, "I'm never eating again" or "I need to reduce my calorie intake). Why that's a bad idea (it will only make me feel worse in the long run, etc) and what you can do instead and why it's a good idea, (I'm going to crochet because the repetitiveness relaxes me. Im going to draw my frustrations to get these negative thoughts out of my head etc)

One thing I learned in ed rehab is throwing things like ice and apples. If you don't want to waste food, get some ice and throw it at something hard, (pavement, concrete etc). If you cannot do this because of strict parents or other reasons, write down why you are upset on a piece of paper and tear it up into little pieces, crumple it up etc. you can do this right over a trash can with no mess

Have good messages around you, it can be quotes or things you come up with yourself.

Stop looking in the mirror, I know it's hard, but I promise it will help. Don't stop completely, try to limit it to looking at yourself in the mirror once a week, for no more than a minute. If you have any negative thoughts about your body, close your eyes and imagine doing something to that thought to kill it, then replace it with something neutral ("I have arms and legs" "I have a jawbone" "I have internal organs" "my legs are used to walk and get me places") you can replace with positive ones right away if you want, but I know that's hard for a lot of people including me. So if you can't, start with neutral ones and once you become more neutral about your body then start adding one positive thing each week

Do not weigh yourself. I know that's hard as well, as someone who weighs in every day rn it's going to be difficult. But you can do it. If you can, get rid of your scale. If not, that's totally okay, you can still learn to not weigh yourself. Figure out the time you normally weigh yourself (for me it's right after I wake up, usually in the morning around 8) and replace that with doing something you enjoy a lot (watching a YouTube video, playing with your pet, being in nature etc) make sure it's something you can get engrossed in. For each day you don't weigh yourself mark it with something, I'm going to do paper stars but you can do tallies, sticky notes etc.

If you do weigh yourself and it triggers you, distract distract distract. Read a book, watch a really funny movie etc. anything fun to get your mind off the numbers.

Having scheduled mealtimes with rough plans about what you will eat can help. For example, set alarms for times you want each meal to be (breakfast at 9, lunch at 1, dinner at 6 etc) then write down a very rough meal plan (example, eggs with a drink and peanut butter toast). Even if you cant stick to the meal plan, have something. Celery and peanut butter, protein bar, protein shake etc.

This one is really hard, but try not to let other people bring you down. I know a lot of ed's are the result of abuse, family issues etc. remind yourself they have no claim on the way you live your life. A normal, stable person does not try to control, put down or harm a person for simply existing. You are better than they ever will be, so don't let them hurt you because they are nothing but petty idiots who make themselves feel better by putting others down

Keep yourself busy. Don't let yourself have time for negative thoughts and behaviors. Hobbies, movies, tv shows. Be doing something most of the time

Yoga may help. I know it sounds cliche but it might help your relationship with your body. Learning yoga poses and moves is a great way to be proud of something your body can do. Plus, it's a good way to become aware of your body without looking in a mirror. Focusing on the muscle groups needed and breathing is a good exercise.

This is optional, and certainly not for everyone. If you find that w33d helps your appetite and mood, you can try it to help make you hungry and focus less on the ed thoughts. You do not need it to recover on your own, it's just a tool. I will personally be using it. If you do want to use w33d to help your journey I suggest a sativa dominant hybrid or something that's 50/50. If you don't already partake but would like to use it on your journey. I suggest finding people who also partake and becoming friends with them. I don't know what it's like to have no one in your life who does it because I have always known people who do. Make sure wherever you get it from is reputable. You may be able to find recs for people in your area to buy from if you can't get it from a d1spensary. I don't get mine myself, but someone I know gets it for me so you could try that if you think anyone would be willing.

Be forgiving. Recovery isn't linear and you are going to make mistakes, everyone does. Perfection does not exist for humans because we will always have flaws, perfection is the absence of flaws.

Beauty is subjective. If everyone was solely attracted to the beauty standard then non conventionally attractive people wouldn't be in relationships. But they are, because no matter what you look like there will be at least 100 people who find you the hottest person alive. Keep this in your mind. And if you have a partner encouraging weight loss and they know you struggle with an ED or you aren't 900 pounds. Then dump them, they don't deserve you. No partner with staying with will try to change you to their liking. They will love you for who you are and will only support changes you want to make to make yourself better. Just to be clear, if you are 900 pounds or considered overweight by medical professionals only, you deserve recovery just as much as anyone else. Recovery isn't about weight, it's about your health and relationship with food. Having a healthy relationship with food and getting sufficient exercise will cause weight loss on its own. If you're unsure, look up a healthy weight for your height and age, then look up the maintenance calories for it, then make that your goal you work up towards.

If you have a partner (bf/gf/SO), open up to them about your Ed and your desire to recover. They will be one of your most valuable assets. If they brush you off, put you down or don't believe you, dump them. That's not a true partner. It's one thing to not know how to help, it's an entirely different thing to ignore your partners feelings and struggles. Your partner doesn't have to do much, just be there for you. Maybe you eat together, maybe you cook together. Maybe they face time you while you eat to help distract you. Maybe they just provide words of encouragement "you're doing great" "im here for you on this journey".

Friends can be just as valuable a resource as a partner. If you don't have a partner or want extra support, open up to your friends. If you don't have any friends you can trust, join an online recovery group.

Ask people in your life to avoid comments about your body, positive or negative. Most people worth knowing will try their best to adhere to this, they will mess up sometimes but they will try. If they think it's stupid and won't try, then cut them off if you can. It's not that hard to avoid. (Instead of body compliments, clothes/hair/makeup/nails/achievements may work, like "your hair looks great today" "love your nail polish/nail art" "your makeup is awesome" "your outfit is cute/cool/awesome" etc.

If people in your life refuse to try not commenting on your body and you can't get away, they are normally trying to provoke you, put you down and/or make themselves feel better about their shitty life. When they comment something bad, simply reply, "okay" and repeat. Don't look at them if you can and keep a neutral expression. Or you could go for an overly cheery okay and look them in the eyes with the most genuine smile you can muster, then compliment them. It may make them uncomfortable. It's up to you to decide which one will work best for the person in your life.

No more negative Ed media. If you can, no Instagram or Tumblr. If you can't, delete your Tumblr and create a new one specifically for recovery or non Ed interests block any th1nspo tags you can think of and try putting other interests in your feed as well, like video games, books or fandoms. For Instagram, go through your following and block any ed accounts that aren't recovery based. If you are friends, send them a message saying that you are going into recovery and you are getting rid of all ties to negative Ed media. If you think you can keep contact with Tumblr/Instagram/Twitter mutuals, do it through a neutral app like snap, messenger or discord. If you have Ed Twitter follow the same steps as you do for Tumblr. Delete and create a new account.

If you have the ability, therapy. Doesn't specifically have to be for an ED, but learning how to cope with what life throws at you will help you get far. If you are unable/unwilling to do therapy, do your own. Free dbt workbooks, YouTube videos, texting your crisis hotline etc. these are all things you can do to teach yourself how to cope with life. Unfortunately trauma recovery is very hard to do without therapy, so I would suggest YouTube videos and if you can afford to purchase them, self help books about trauma.

Delete all triggering things from your phone, th1nspo pics, personal b0dy ch3cks etc.

That's all I got, remember this is not a set in stone thing. You can pick and choose what you think will work for you. Everyone deserves recovery, if you have Ed behaviors (restr1cting, b1nging, purg3ing) then you are sick enough, no matter what anyone tells you.

[secretariatess]

Kylin 43

            When he returned to the camp, he found that Shaelren had taken the final watch.  He entered the clearing and Shaelren made eye contact with him.  Nothing was said in voice, but Kylin could detect the question in his eyes.

            He turned his face way, hearing Shaelren give a quiet sigh.

            Kylin set Vicious up for the last couple of hours.  He himself curled up between two tree roots.  As he was returning to the camp, he was convinced that he would be awake for the rest of the wee hours of early morning, but he fell asleep rather quickly.

            In only a few short moments, everyone was woken up by Shaelren.  Kylin wasn’t sure if he was well rested, or if his body was just trying to convince itself that it was fine.  He was somewhere between a daze and fully awake.

            Shaelren laid out his plan to the crew about how they were going to proceed with the investigation.  No stone was going to be left unturned and even the slightest thing that was off was to be carefully inspected.  The area surrounding the sealed was broken into four sections.  They were split into pairs, with each pair choosing a section to search.  After darkness fell, they would reconvene at the sealed tree to share their findings and discuss the plan for the next day.

            A Ranger named Ime accompanied Kylin.  The two of them agreed to take a section that did not include the pond, northwest of the sealed pond.  The section included the ankheg tunnel, which, as far as Kylin knew, had not yet been filled up.  Ime and Kylin made plans to first check the entrance of the tunnel before searching around it.

            Beyond their strategizing, they did not talk much on the way over.  Both were slightly on edge, stopping every now and then as something caught their attention.  When the source of the noise or the movement turned out to be harmless, they would exchange glances and carry on.

            They arrived at the mouth of the tunnel.  Ime volunteered to enter and dismounted.  He pulled out his ball of light and began to head down.  While he was doing that, Kylin kept a watch on what happened above ground.  Once or twice he spun Vicious around slowly to get a full view of his surroundings.

            Ime finally returned, shaking his head.  He tucked his ball of light away and mounted again.  For a moment they did nothing but observe.  Kylin closed his eyes, focusing more on hearing things than seeing them.  The forest was filled with the sound of slight rustling, a flutter of a bird that did not leave for the winter, and twigs breaking here and there.  All the noises seemed innocent.  Sighing, he opened his eyes and looked over to Ime, who shrugged helplessly.

            Kylin suggested to move towards an area with a gesture.  Ime responded by heading his horse that way.  They carried on how they before reaching the tunnel.

            It was not something Vicious was particularly keen on.

            She began her usual bag of tricks.  She fought with him about the pace they were going, attempted to veer off the direction he wanted her to go, and even gave him a couple of half-hearted bucks.  Every time he corrected her, she tossed her head frustration, complying only long enough to try and lull him into a false sense of security.

            Ime would glance at Kylin, eyebrow raised, but Kylin dismissed the silent inquiries with a shake of his head.  Vicious wasn’t being too much trouble.  She was just being herself.

            Until she skittered violently to the side, throwing her head into the air with her nostrils flared.  Even Ime’s horse came to a stop, taking a few steps back.  Kylin could feel Vicious trembling under him and he tried to soothe her by stroking her neck and speaking quietly to her.

            This was new and disturbing.  The Rangers’ horses were well trained and bred for the things of the forest.  They were also accustomed to battle.  It was not in the slightest easy to spook one of their horses, much less make one like Vicious tremble.

            As he was trying to calm her down, he heard a gagging noise.  He looked up sharply at Ime, expecting to see him choking.

            But Ime was look at him, just as confused and disturbed by the behavior of the horses as he was.  At the gagging noise, Ime glanced around, his disturbance deepening and his horse backing away even more.

            As Kylin listened, he realized that the noise was coming from somewhere above their heads.  He raised his gaze to the branches hanging over them.

            “Sickening” was too tame of a word.

            A large tree twenty feet away from them had a sturdy branch.  On that branch, hanging by its talons like a bat, was an owl.  Or a thing that was in the process of no longer being an owl.  Its talons were too long and black, leaving gouge marks into the bark of the branch.  Its body convulsed as its limbs grew in short bursts as though something was pulling on them and stretching them.  Hand-like talons sprouted from the wingtips in a manner that could only be painful.  Its head jerked around in an unnatural way, even for an owl; its face morphing to something between human and owl.  Its feathers were molting rapidly, the soft shades of brown it had before dropping away as they were replaced by grays and black.  As it went through the transformation, the owl made retching noises, timed with the disturbing growth spurts.

            Then suddenly, it stopped.  All of its limbs went still, as though it had been frozen.  Very slowly, it turned its head to look at Ime and Kylin.  Its eyes were a sickly yellow, and there was something demented about them.

            Neither of them gave it time to react.  Bows were out an instant, arrows knocked and sent flying.

            The former owl let out a piercing shriek.  It loosed itself from the branch and dove towards them, meeting the arrows head on.  The arrows embedded themselves into the creature’s body, causing it to let another angry, piercing shriek.  It dropped to the ground, its wings spread out on either side of it while propping it up -much too humanlike- as it gave short, infuriated screams.  Both horses backed away, perturbed by this creature.

            Kylin and Ime had another arrow pulled out and nocked, both trying to ignore the head-splitting noise that emitted from the creature as they took aim.

            The creature gave one last shriek before pushing itself off the ground and tearing off into the branches.  Kylin took a shot, but the arrow only grazed its back.  It crashed through the branches, and before either could process anything of what just happened, the noises stopped.  It had flown above the forest.

            Kylin’s heart thumped wildly against his chest.  The blood had left his face.  He had only ever read about those creatures, and the forest had not seen them for generations- Elven generations, even.

            “What was that thing?” Ime panted, as though he had run the length of the forest path.

            “A strix,” Kylin choked out.  He swallowed hard, breathing heavily.  With no target to aim at, his arms dropped limply.  Vicious was still unsettled by the whole thing, letting Kylin know by stamping her feet and flicking her ears back.

            “A what?”

            Kylin strapped his bow back to himself, his hands shaking.  A strix.  And it was loose.  He looked back up at the tree, seeing the deep gouges the strix had made in the branch.  Not far from the base of the branch there was a hole, which had to have been the owl’s next.

            “We need to check that nest,” Kylin said, shakily pointing to the hole in the tree.  “We need to make sure there are no eggs.”

            “Isn’t it too early for winter owls?” Ime questioned.  Though by his tone, he was uncertain of his own skepticism.

            “After that?” Kylin pointed out.

            He gently coaxed Vicious closer to the tree.  She obliged, only about ten feet away from it.  Then she refused to go any farther.

            Ime and his horse shared Vicious’s opinion.  They came only to the ten foot mark.  Ime nocked his arrow again, aiming it at the hole.

            “Don’t shoot me,” Kylin cautioned as he dismounted.

            He approached the tree, realizing as he did so how much he really didn’t want to do this.  He would much rather find Shaelren and inform him of the situation.  Strixes were nasty, having a taste for humanoid flesh, particularly humanoid organs.  They had a habit of keeping their victims alive while they feasted.  They were also difficult to kill.  Created by unnatural means, there were only two ways that could actually kill them and not just wound them: By cutting off their heads or stabbing them in the heart with a stake.

            And most unfortunately of all, Kylin was pretty sure he knew what had created this one.

            He found a low hanging branch and swung himself up.  Carefully reaching for the next one, he paused to listen for any noises coming from the nest.  Strixes were made from a normal owl, just any kind of owl that existed to live in environment in which it was put.  It was not possible for strixes to lay eggs.  However, the thing that corrupted and transformed an owl into a strix was also capable of corrupting and turning eggs.

            He knew there were many things he had forgotten from his time of studying beasts and journals.  But he remembered the details of the strix all too well because one of the former Rangers who had actually had the misfortune of encountering a few sketched gruesomely detailed pictures.  Those pictures played back in Kylin’s mind as he ran through what he knew of the evil birds.  Seeing a transformation in person made him realize that perhaps those pictures weren’t gruesome enough to accurately depict what happened.

            He reached the branch the strix had been hanging on and gingerly sat on it.  Even though they had been all too close to it, the gouges made him realize just how big it had gotten, especially compared to the hole to its nest.

            He looked down at Ime, waving to see if he was ready.  Ime gave a terse nod, his face still pale from the encounter.

            Kylin pulled out his ball of light, cautiously holding it up to see inside the nest.  Using his legs for balance, his other hand reached for a dagger.  His heart, which moments before had been trying to calm itself down, began its rapid percussion against his ribs again.

            No face peered back at him.  No glinting yellow eyes.  Kylin relaxed a little, readjusting himself to get a better look.

            Inside the nest were five, black, grainy eggs, all about three inches in size.  None of them moved, but it was ominous to look at all the same.

            His hand twitched, wanting to smash them all.  To reach in and throw them against the ground as hard as he could.  To prevent them from ever hatching.

            But Vivienne would need to see these.  That besides, if the strix could only be killed in a certain way, there was no guarantee that smashing these eggs would have the intended effect.

            It may very well have the opposite.

            He opened his pouch and carefully placed the eggs inside.  The eggs were heavy, as though they were nothing more than shaped slabs of granite.  They clacked against each other and Kylin winced, hoping it didn’t cause a crack.  After they were in his pouch, he motioned for Ime to lower his bow.  Then, carefully, slowly, as to not crush the eggs, Kylin climbed down the tree.

            Vicious backed away from him at first, her ears flat and her tail swishing.

            “I know, I know,” he told her.  He did not like feeling the weight of the eggs against his body himself.  It was taking so much of his self-control to not rip them away and toss them aside.  Vicious perhaps felt it more because the transformation was meant for a creature.

            Vicious allowed him approach, but her ears remained flattened.  As Kylin mounted, he spoke to her soothingly, promising her all kinds of treats and things when they got the chance.

            Ime waited until he was settled in the saddle before asking, “So, a strix?”

            “Bad news,” Kylin said.  “I’ll explain on the way, but we need to get back to Shaelren as soon as possible.”

            If they were tense before on their way out, they were even more tense now.  Ime never strapped his bow back.  He nocked and aimed an arrow anytime Kylin looked sharply in a direction.  It would take at least half a minute every time to settle not only themselves but their horses enough to carry on, after discovering the source of noise was not caused by a strix tearing through the forest after them.

            All the same, it did Vicious’s nerves no favors.  By the time they reached the sealed tree, she was a nervous wreck.  Her coat was damp with sweat and she was constantly doing a little dance when she was supposed to stand still.  If the eggs were moved in a manner that caused them to clack she would jump forward.  She would have bolted had Kylin not kept her in check.  Kylin told himself in addition to the special treats he would give her for having to go through this, he would give her extra pampering.

            They arrived about the same time as others were arriving.  Given the expressions on the others’ faces, they had found nothing.  Their looks of defeat were turned into confused worry as they saw Vicious’s condition and Ime and Kylin still pale.

            Xane approached them, worry creasing his brow.  “What did you find?” he asked, his voice quiet.

            Ime was about to answer him when Shaelren returned with his companion.  He took one look at Ime and Kylin and repeated Xane’s question, but in a much sharper tone.

            “A strix,” Ime answered.

            Kylin detached his pouch and held it up.  “And it had eggs,” he added.

            Shaelren rode to Kylin’s side.  He took the pouch and looked inside.  There was a tense pause before he tied the pouch up and handed it back to Kylin.

            “Where is the strix?”  Underneath the sharpness, there was a hint of a plea.  Begging for the hope that it had already been killed.

            “It flew off,” Kylin answered.  Twisting his lip in disgust, he said, “We came upon it while it was morphing. We were able to hit it, but of course, it did nothing.”

            “A strix.”  Shaelren ran a hand through his hair as the crew watched him.  Like Ime, none of them had encountered a strix in their reading and so the gravity of the situation was only relayed to them by Shaelren’s reaction.  Clearing his throat, he explained, “This is an owl like creature that hunts primarily humanoids. If there is one loose here, it is no longer safe to be here alone.”  Looking at Xane, he said, “Which may mean you either have a group with you, or you will be removed.”

            “I can’t be removed now,” Xane argued, gesturing to the sealed tree.

            “I ultimately can’t make that decision,” Shaelren said.  “Your job here may not matter anymore. Unless you can tell me of something that has been walking around here, then I will bet everything I own that somehow that thing” -he pointed to the tree as well- “has something to do with this. It takes a strong, dark power to create a strix, and so far, that’s the only thing that makes sense.”

            “Well, it has to be something else,” Xane pressed.  “Rei’s been working on the seal, and even he has said it’s been fine.”

            “Look,” the hunting master said in exasperation, “I’m not the one who decides that. I’m just saying that you might be removed as keeper of the prison because it seems like we’re at a point where it’s not necessary: It’s just dangerous. What I can do is keep some of us here while the others send for Rei and pass the eggs on to Vivienne.”  Turning himself so that Xane would fully understand the argument was over, he spoke to Kylin.  “I know your horse is not enjoying herself right now, but I’m going to ask you to leave in the morning. I’ll send some with you, and you’ll lead them back.”

            “I am?” Kylin said, shocked.

            “You studied up on strixes, right?”

            “Yeah, but-”

            “And you remember all that?”

            “Again, yes, but-”

            “Then you’ll need to head the group,” Shaelren said.  “I need someone in each group who knows about them. That leaves you and me.”

            Kylin stared at him, face pale.  Finally, he whispered, “I do not know if my knowledge even matters here.”

            Keeping steady eye contact with him, Shaelren replied, “Neither do I. But it’s all we’ve got.”

            Shaelren turned back to face everyone else, explaining how to kill a strix, and giving his expectations for the night and the following day.

            Kylin barely listened, Shaelren’s last statement ringing in his ears.

[fleastinger]

It doesn't make me sngry when you fall asleep on the phone. It mskes me sngry to see you force yourself awake during a serious conversation instead of admitting how tiref you were because youre scared of me getting mad at you . You miss things when youre asleep, you'll repeat questions, and tbh, its not a genuine conversation I could trust.

I want you to work on this, and listen to your body when you're tired. We can always talk another day or in person, its not the end of the world if we cant finish a convo because you're sleepy.

It doesnt get me angry when you try to talk, or when youre baked and talk over me. It gets me angry when you interrupt me while im speaking or talk over me. I csnt trust sometimes if youre taking me seriously or not, if youre reslly present while youre high. I know I interrupt you too, and I want to work on that as well. But I want you to work on this, and look into why you feel like you have your best convos while stoned.

It doesnt make me angry if youre double checking that I cant come over. It does make me sngry when you ignore my first reply in tje hopes that I'll take it back, making me more and more indecisive, or insist that i am making a bigger deal about not wanting to come over than necessary. I need to work on being firm, actively enforcing my boundaries (making my no reslly mean it snd not saying yes because i feel bad), but you need to work on that too.

It doesnt make me mad when you offer me money or to buy things for me. It doesnt make me mad when you offer out of the sake of trying to help me. It makes me mad when you insist on giving me money that i dont want, or paying for things for me, when you can save your money for a car, for transportation, for copays and literally anything that can help you in your situation. I have a job. You dont. I don't need to rely on your money and you shouldnt be freely offering it to me when you need it more than me. It makes me mad to think about how often youre using your money for more vapes and dutches than your own self.

It doesnt make me mad when you talk aboug your sleep issues, and im sorry for throwing it in your face in an arguement. It makes me mad when you say you cant help it or predict it, when they are things that can easily be predicted. It makes me mad to see you continue to say youre working on it when you dont look up anything to help yourself, you dont try to change your lifestyle, you just dont do anything.

It doesnt make me mad when you hsve a hard time talking to me about how you feel. And im sorry that i made you feel scared to open up to me. But it makes me mad when you have clear depressive and anxious feelings, and refuse to look into it or get help.

You finally made an appointment with a PCP for your hand and you say youre gonna follow up for sleep. But it feels like its only because i made it such an issue this weekend. And who knows if youll look into therapy. But i want you to. I wish you do.

I know what I did didnt help. I freaked out on you the night of your birthday, a day that ive dumped you before on. Theres no excuse for making you start 24 in fear of losing me again. But this also showed me how frustrated ive been, how much this was built up, how little faith i have in us working out our differences without serious work. This showed me that even if you might feel different , we arent. If we dont try to help ourselves, we'll still have the same trend of me picking up the pieces of everything and excusing your behavior because you know how to make me feel bad, like its my fault thar i left, when you did what you did to me. Itll still jave the trend of you being on eggshells sround me because you dont know if im going to be super helpful or super bitchy, if im going to yell or be calm.

Its just......you and I need to work on ourselves. I like you so much, I know I can feel the beginning of love with you again. But that love isnt logical, it ignores the fact that you and i both hurt each other in tje past, it procrastinates on the fact that you and i need serious help before we could confidently say we can be a healthy relationship.

You need IOP, a PCP to follow up on your health, a job to buy a car, a car to get out of your house, a better and more fufilling lifestyle. More importantly, you need to want that and take the steps to do that instead of wasting away for months at a time, waiting for someone else to help. I have to stop offering to help when i know i cant, or i know that ill feel like im enabling you. I need to see that you are trying, whether its slowly or drastically. And this is a good first step but it doesnt feel quite real.

I need to work on myself, getting my bills paid, continue to work on managing my expenses without spending all of it on you and us and buying food and weed. I need to not use you to ignore my own issues.

But you also need to get yourself together. You cant live a happy and fufilled life without attempting things that make you scared. You cant help yourself by denying things that you havent tried before or tried and failed at.

And just....we're not married. We dont have kids together. We arent even officially together. Youre right that i act like your girlfriend , and i get why you want uscto be official. But i dont know if i want this , i need to see that you can and will try to help yourself, that you genuinely want to be a better you and not just say that to keep me wrapped around your fingers.

And tbh....my therapist was right. If youre not okay with me not being sure where im st with you at this moment, then can we reasonably say we could be stronger in the future without taking a step back to help ourselves?