#it matters little what you actually feel we can only see what you do

[bunny-jpeg]

quenching a thirst

daniel ricciardo

request: is there any possibility to have 2 and 10 with daniel for the valentines ask? 2. “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.” + 10. “we’re in public, you know.”

tags: smut/pwp, semi-public sex (in a closet), assistant!reader, secret relationship, oral sex (reader receives), quick & messy, hair pulling

eros (the valentine's collection)

"danny." you said as you placed your hands on his chest. it only encouraged him to lean in closer to you. you said a little more sternly, "danny."

"no one is watching, just one kiss. i want to taste that lip gloss of yours when i talk to the reporters." he licked his lips. you hated that there was something about him that made you flustered. flirting came natural to him and it made you feel warm all over.

you held onto your clipboard in your free hand and said, "and they could come bargaining in at any second. you want to be on the news for being at this charity event, not for kissing your assistant." but daniel still captured your lips in his.

when he pulled away, he licked his lips and said, "mmm, apple pie."

but you knew one kiss wouldn't calm down daniel's need for you. one kiss turned into two and two often turned into three rounds of sex in the closest bad you could find. you knew you had every chance to say no, but the charm of daniel ricciardo was undeniable.

even when he got on your nerves at times. you gave him several small kisses and one long make-out session with his tongue in your mouth before he was able to do his interviews. you tried to deny the heat between your legs while you watched him from the sidelines. you could see the slight shine on his lips, obvious from your kisses.

you had been secretly seeing daniel for about six months. you had been his assistant for over a year and a half, all that time together let something bloom between you two. nights spent between races, the home-cooked meals you made him try, that one time you held his hand while he got his newest tattoo.

you two were close and daniel loved you. which was why he yearned for your kisses. and why he whined when you refused to give him more. he was insatiable at times, but yet it made you flustered. like when he kissed you and ran his tongue across your bottom lip.

"we're in public you know." you said as you ended up pressed against the wall of a hallway. you moaned into another kiss when he pinched you behind.

you knew it didn't actually matter. you could publicly date him with little to no fuss. but you didn't want people to think you got your job because you were sleeping with your boss. daniel understood, he respected that you wanted to be seen with integrity. but that didn't lessen his need for your kisses and your love.

"sorry, babe." he said sweetly, "i like when you make sure i'm well taken care of. i feel like i should do the same considering how needy you get."

you chuckled, warmed by his words, "what do you me to say? i've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly? get on my knees for you." you held onto his strong shoulders. you were totally smitten.

the allure he had over you, you were both alone in the hallway with his lips on yours. he said lowly, "i want you. i want to taste you. i don't think i can wait till we get back home." his large hands were on your hips. he held you close and licked his top lip.

"you're insatiable, ricciardo."

he leaned in further, "i know, but you love me. just like how i love you." you quickly ended up in a supply closet with your back up against a few shelves.

"fuck." you whispered as daniel quickly and quietly closed the door and turned on the low light. even in the dim light he looked good, you eyes him as he got to his knees and hiked up your short skirt. you covered your mouth as he pulled your panties down and exposed your pussy to him.

"look at you." he mused quietly, "you look so good. i et you taste so sweet. when i was talking to the press i thought about you. how i'd rather be back home with my head between your thighs." and chuckled before he heard you quietly moan.

"danny." you said and tensed up as he kissed your pussy. he held onto your soft thighs with your skirt pushed up to your waist and your panties to your ankles. you leaned further against the shelves.

his tongue was talented, and with a pussy as perfect as yours he only wanted to make you feel good. he groaned against your cunt and licked at it. he could feel heat in his body, the air in the cramped space got warmer. his cock throbbed in his jeans. he held on a little tighter and pressed his nose further into your sex.

your wetness stained his lips more than your lip gloss did earlier. while daniel liked the apple pie flavour, your pussy tasted better. you moaned and tried to keep yourself composed. you couldn't be too loud or else people would start to get curious. you covered your mouth once more with one hand and held onto his short dark hair with the other.

daniel groaned against your pussy when you gave his hair a short tug. he licked your stiff clit and felt an electric feeling move through him. you tasted divine. he pressed further, he couldn't get enough. your pussy was the most divine of tastes and it made daniel eager to have more.

his attention on your clit made your body tense up as pleasure raced through you. "danny." you said in a hushed tone, "right there, fuck. i love when you tease my clit." you shakily exhaled and held onto his hand with both hands now. it all felt overwhelming in the best way possible, but you couldn't cause a scene right now.

you didn't want to be public with your relationship at that time, you knew what a hard launch was. but you didn't want to launch your relationship because someone cause daniel's head between your legs!

he looked up at you and dragged his tongue messily across your cunt. your wetness drooled down his chin. he was a messy eater. it was endearing, almost cute. you felt a wobble in your knees as he admired you for a moment before he went back to orally pleasuring you.

you felt the lingering heat in your body and swore under your breath. his large hands held onto your thighs and he licked your sopping wet sex. you whimpered as his movements and you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

daniel felt the strain in his jeans as he continued to pleasure your pussy with a talented eagerness. he could feel the pre-cum stain the front of his briefs. he couldn't care less. not when he had a mission. your eager noises only pulled him in closer and he loved how you tasted. it was like a taste of heaven and your noises were angel choirs, it made his heart sing. it felt good as he applied more pressure to his movements and then felt you quiver around him.

in a cramped storage room, daniel feasted on your beautifully slick cunt and your hushed pleasured noises. you felt blissed out as he only worked himself harder against you.

daniel loved you, that was certain. he knew it from the bottom of his heart. he ached for you, needed to be close to you. even when you tried to do your job. you held on a little tighter and pushed your pussy up against him. he could feel your love through your pussy up against his face.

"please. fuck, yes." you near squeaked as the pleasure reached its pack. you shakily exhaled in an attempt to hold back a moan. silence was key. it was heated in the closet, the sweat dampened your back as your breathed heavily.

daniel's moan was muffled by your pussy and felt the tension in your thighs. he gave you one last lick and felt your orgasm cross through you. he looked up and watched you have to cover your mouth as you came. your knees shook as the intense feeling washed over you. a small noise spilled from his lips. you cursed under your breath as you relaxed a little.

daniel pulled away and wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand. he chuckled lightly and let himself remain excited. he grinned at you, "pretty girl." then helped you back into your panties before he pushed your skirt down over your thighs.

"i'm not making this a habit." you said pointedly. daniel got back to his feel, he kissed you on the cheek before he wiped his wet mouth.

"of course." he wrapped his arms around you, "next time we'll just leave easily and i can see how loud you can get." then winked.

you playfully pushed his chest, "you're insatiable, danny."

"i know, but only for you." <3

[adkawariatka]

Back of or I will bite

Cold rain drips from Danny’s jacked, water slushes in his shoes when he walks through dirty streets of Gotham. He is cold. It should be rare experience for him nowdays, since his death actually. However, recently he discovered that if he mistreats his human half, this is what happens. He hadn’t eaten anything for too long and now cold can affect him. He is starting to get used to that feeling, when hunger twists his stomach and chill runs on his skin like snake. Normal humans would be already dead. Unfortunetly he isn’t normal human. It is why he is in this streets anyway. When goverment with your own parents hunt you like an animal you try to be invisible.

There is no better place to dissapear than city as dangerous as Gotham. Here no one will pay attention to some homeless kid when every other week some psycho tries to murder bunch of civilians while a furry in bat costiume fights them off. That is why he and his friends chose this place. He blends in, dissapears. They decided he needs to lay low. He can do that he can be invisible goddamit. Well could be invisible like a week Ago. Right now his physical state isnt really cooperating. Where is super-healing when he needs it.

Right now he turned to his other special abilities. Ones he buried deep, into The back of his head, as deep as sands of The cursed desert he was born on. Right next to The memory of a twin that he loathes with his whole existence. He moves with practise even if his stealth skills are a little rusty. They were trained in him since he was a baby.

He needs to find Food, Danny lived in gotham for three weeks he knows some spots for leftovers, not fresh ones, but enough to sustain him. Sometimes he steals something fresh but lately he has no energy to do so. His gun-wound is still healing even if it should be gone by now. It is not deadly obviously but painful enough to remind him of its existence from time to time.

Danny checked trashcans behind two restaurants before he found one that wasn’t already occupied. He learned hard way to stay away from others who will do everything to eat, even long expired goods. He is not proud of it. However, Danny survived far worse. He died for fucks sake! Some trash Food isnt going to do him.

Danny was just peaking into The containers before he Heard loud bang and angry shouts. It was a little early for big fishes to get out on street. Sun heven’t even set yet. He needs to hurry. As he was to pull out that half eaten sandwich, footsteps Sounded behind him. Before he turned around there was also a heavy thud and loud groan. Immedately, he turned around and came race to face with Nightwing. He was doing so good up until now. He just had to came across one of Batman’s sidekicks.

- Hey there, you alright?

He sounded genuine but was also part of justice league that worked for goverment. So he was a big no no for Danny. That’s why he nodded and sweeped his eyes around to find possible exits. They were in backalley with only one exit which was a source of fight noises.

- Okey kid we need to get out of here. I can see that you prefer to keep your distance but Right now we don’t have time for comforts

Then he catches Danny by his waist and hoists them both on The nearest root. His left side with a wound is on fire, vision goes white for a moment and he stumbles when Nightwing lets him go. Danny doesn’t know what happend after but when he can normally breathe he is alone. On a roof. How The hell is he supposed to get down without his powers or any gear in the matter!? He goes to The edge and observes The fight. It looks like one of The gangs had some sort of a deal and The Bats had a tip that it will take place here. Just Danny’s luck to end up in The middle of a mess. At this point it can’t really get worse. There is no sense in trying to get down now. He will wait until fight is over. There is too much gangsters and people in spandex for Danny’s liking down There. So he sits and waits. Eventually fight dies down. He might have dozed off there a little bit. Light footsteps alerts him of new presence on his roof. Danny stands up when short figure in black yellow and green costiume stops before him. He assumes that it is his lift to the ground but the hero stops suddenly. He watches long enough to make Danny uncomfortable. Then Danny hears words he hoped never to came across again:

-Danyal?

He sharply backs away. No! he thinks. Not him! Not now! He knows that voice. God Dammit! And he thought that his situation couldn’t get worse. He was already starving, wounded, without roof above his head, hunted by goverment and his parents! Why not add an assassin cult to the mix?! Whoever fucks with his fate has twisted kind of humour. Danny heels hit the end of the roof. But the hero is still getting closer.

-Danyal its you. I know it is you. You need to stop…

- Stay away from me! - Danny thinks that he might be screaming. He is not sure. He is terrified, last time they saw each other didnt end well for him. His vision starts to swirl again, his wound stings, he might throw up. Does he even has something to throw up with? Danny is pretty sure he is going to die. Maybe that’s why just in spite for monster of a brother he bends backwards just a little too much. Last Think he hears are Damian’s screams he does not know why he seems so panicked. He probably came here to finish the job so why bother? Or worse he came back to bring Danny back. Doesn’t matter not Right now. He is falling, it reminds him a little bit about flying. God he loved it. He wonders if second death will hurt as much as the first. Will he get to go away? Will he be able to fully die? Or will he gets stuck as a full ghost? It is his last thought before his vision goes black.

I know I wasn’t here for some time. But I had this idea and wanted to share. I will probably continue it. I want to include interaction of Danny with Damian. There is a lot of fics with them loving each other and they are amazing, However, the concept of Danny hating Damian peaked my interest. How would that work? Besides, Danny’s angst is of course a must😆

[shatcey]

Victor theories. Contradictions and links

This is probably the last part of my theories about Vivi before his route came out. Most likely, they have nothing to do with reality, which we will see pretty soon. I will kill someone if Cybird release someone from Vogel first. Do you hear that, Cybird? I'll buy tamagotchi and kill it!!!!! You don't want that, do you? Poor defenseless little creature…

When I read other theories and events about Vivi, I had some thoughts, but I haven't finished them, haven't put them together, and… I think it's finally time to do it properly.

I should probably add warnings. I'm mentioning the details of Alfons and Harrison's routes. And also provide fragments of events that had not yet been in the EN game (only in JP). And… a bit about Azel's route (but I'm warning you about this, and you can easily skip to the next part without reading).

There were many events with Vivi. I made a list when started preparing for this post… Not all of them contain anything that I can use within the described boundaries, but they all provide few or many hints. So… it took some time to check. I hope I didn't miss anything.

If so… remind me, and I'll make one more "last post"… it becomes an endless story.

His personality

@maladaptivedaydreamsx assumed that Victor isn't his real name, but was given to him because of Queen. I thought about that as well. As I mentioned here, Victor thinks of himself in quotation marks, as if it's not his real name, but a role he's playing. And that actually sounds pretty fitting. On the surface, he's a cheerful and positive, with a sweet, mama-type vibe. But when we read the stories from his perspective, he feels completely different. Very dark and even scary. His thoughts show how much he notices and thinks before making any decisions, how much of a calculating bastard he really is (lovingly). But is his cheerful side a role he's playing? Or is it just part of his personality? From the Bond story "The Other Side"

and kiss event...

Victor insists that this is just a part of him. And I'm inclined to believe.

There is a theory that Victor is actually immortal. @.reccyls mentioned this here last time. And this theory is possible. Not only because Victor is so determined to treat all the members of Crown and Kate like children. But also because of this Willy's remark from the 1st Victor's birthday

There are two possibilities that Willy could be hinting at.

The first… Vivi is a god. The God of death.

But… this may have a different meaning. Vivi is very closed to God or any other immortal being. Vivi often talks about death as a living creature. Perhaps the fact that he is a "constant companion of death" makes him a kind of expert in this matter.

And that's why I tend to think that the second option is closer to the truth. It's from the very beginning of the same 1st birthday.

Yes, Harry often says that Victor lies a lot, but I don't think that applies to this situation. The wording is very strange. He doesn't seem happy about this fact. Like… "I wish I had more time". Maybe it's just me.

Oh, I forgot about another option. Vivi could have been a god, but now he's a human. This explains why he's so annoyed by the fact that he needs to sleep. Hmmm… I like that option.

If assumed he's a very old and powerful being… who, despite this, has not lost interest in life as such and can still find joy in it (reminds of someone, right?). How did the Queen manage to get him as her aid? A contract? We have another Black butler?

And if everyone thinks of him as a very strong person, then no one will ever assume that he needs anything. No one ever considers him human. This thought crossed my mind when I talked about the Mirror event, but I decided not to voice it. But… what the hell… this is the last post, where else should I talk about it?

It was the same with Azel (if you haven't read his route and don't want spoilers, skip right to the next point). People didn't see him as a human being, they only asked for help, advice, and so on… In their eyes, he was only giving, after all, he is God. But… this is a rather selfish way of thinking. Even if a person seems completely independent and strong, and… perfect… this doesn't mean that he has nothing to wish. I can easily imagine Vivi in this concept. And that explains why he was so surprised when Kate said she liked helping him or taking care of him. This has never happened before.

But he doesn't have to be an immortal being for people to consider him inhuman. He succeeds in everything he does, and people may think that he doesn't need anyone's help.

His contradictions

Kate described him very accurately at a Drunk event, translated by @.reccyls.

I would also add that he takes care of the garden and himself (see how his hair is… it's a lot of work, you know) and it looks like he's sleeping normally. My baby Ally has dark circles under her eyes due to lack of sleep. But Vivi… there is no such thing. So… Yes, he really seems like the perfect person.

But behind every great accomplishment is a lot of hard work. We don't know what it is… he just has a habit of using every second of his life to the fullest, or… a kind of magic. But he really does a lot, and… I can understand why he wants to… relax sometimes. He can't admit it for some reason (pride or some restrictions) but he wants to anyway. And at the same Drunken event, he tricked Kate into putting his head in her lap and hugging her. As if he needed a reason for that. It feels like he's constantly preventing himself from doing what he wants to do. At the very end of Butler's event ("Your Hand, My Lady" translated by @.reccyls) Willy hints at this...

He's happy because Victor is FINALLY doing what he wants to do.

I got the impression that curse of the boys is a sick joke of fate. It is contrary to their true nature. Like a absolutely honest and straightforward Harrison have to lie because his curse forces him to do so. Or Ally, who wanted only one thing in life... to be remembered, and the curse did not allow him to got this. So I see the same contradiction in Victor's behavior… is his curse. He is literally obsessed with the idea of freedom. And the way he lives makes it seem like he's not free at all. And his desire to get something for himself sometimes is like getting some fresh air before he finds himself back in the dusty tunnels… He literally doesn't do ANYTHING for himself, he doesn't even ask others for anything. This is from the 2nd Cristmas event, translated by @.reccyls.

And this is from bond's story "About Freedom"

Despite the fact, he joked afterwards that he is as free as the wind. In this phrase, he said "I", not "you" or "people" in general. I'm sorry, Vivi, but I don't believe you're free. In fact, you've probably never been. That's why you dream about it. And it's a little sad.

Connections with the Queen

The bond between Vivi and the Queen is very strong and mysterious. He is absolutely devoted to her and literally does everything she says. But how long has he been doing this? Why does he feel like he belongs to her? As he told William at the very end of Butler event ("Your Hand, My Lady" translated by @.reccyls.

The first thing that comes to mind is the Black Butler. Sebas demonstrates absolute dedication without asking questions. And he is a demon who is devoted to man. Actually Vivi said at the first Christmas event (Wreck the halls) that he had made a deal with death…

Perhaps it has something to do with the Queen. I'm not saying that the Queen is the Death (we never know for sure), but the way he's devoted to her, and the way he convinced that the connection with death is not so easy to break, seems somehow similar. Indestructible.

@.velisle has posted a really huge post with facts and theories about Vivi… I added my thoughts here. There was a theory… That's the kid Victor talked about at the Secrets event…

...In fact, he is.

But there are two things that prevent me from thinking that way. The first… he doesn't know if the Queen could make them smiles. If he was that kid, he would know that.

And the second. If we assume that he is not a vampire or another magical creature that lives exceptionally long (or endless), then it is quite difficult to imagine. The calculation is simple. The game takes place around 1890. And the queen begins to rule in 1837. More than 50 years have passed since. And Victor looks like he's 40 at the most. So… He's NOT that kid, but… it could have been his parent or… an older sibling. Or… even someone related to Kate. I wouldn't be surprised if the developers link them so tightly.

@rou-luxe assumed that Victor made a promise to the Queen many years ago and continue fulfill it. It seems very correct, but at the same time not quite. No matter how much you like sticking to your promise, at some point you will feel tired or pressured to keep it. But here… he does it willingly, even with joy. So my idea… he is very grateful to the Queen. As if she had saved his life or given him a new life that he wouldn't have been able to get otherwise. This brings me back to my previous thought. That the Queen is not really human. But she is… at least the real Queen Victoria, who lived and died (which makes her a normal person). If it's just gratitude, then what exactly did she do for him to get him for a lifetime? This is… THE question!

Connections with Crown boys

We know that Vivi and Willy immediately clicked on the common desire to free people. The way we were shown Vivi's cursed ability (as I mentioned in a previous theory post) is somewhat similar to Willy's. I'll just add this part from the 1st birthday story.

We will not talk about that this is technically impossible to strangle yourself. Don't try to prove me wrong, check on Google.

The fact remains… Vivi orders the man to die or Death to take him away. But for some reason, his victim feels happy to follow this order.

It doesn't matter how, but the cursed ability of both of them (Victor and William) deprive a person of freedom. So… no wonder they understand each other so well, they literally went through the same struggles.

I don't think Vivi is particularly kind to Harry just because of his reaction (which is always so good). But also because he feels a little guilty about the death of Harry's father. He did not predict, did not find out, did not fix the problem in time. Yes, Vivi claims that he is not a kind, but rather an evil person, but he is a good teammate, he respects and helps all his partners. And he and Marco had a good team… From a distance, completely ignoring each other… but in the end, they really help each other a lot. So Vivi may feel guilty for missing something.

I didn't notice any special treatment for anyone else at the Crown. Well… Kate is an exception. But I would like to talk about her separately.

Connections with Kate

First the facts. Victor dragged Kate to the Crown because he thought it would help the boys. From his 1st birthday.

He said (will say) the same thing in the 1st anniversary (my summary). He thought she would change something. What does he think needs to be changed? He used a rather interesting phrase in 1st birthday...

Usually, when he said something like that, it's "succumb to your wickedness". Vivi often say that when he sends the boys to work. Did he assume that Kate would help them become better at their work? Is it related to work at all? Maybe about their course? Maybe it's about understanding themselves better? Or… about something completely different? But I tend to think he was looking for a way to combine them together.

They're all pretty strong and independent, they don't have much in common, they literally split into several groups, and he wanted to find a reason to unite them into one team. It's a very noble cause. He would probably reject such an idea as not fitting his wicked nature. Why do my favorite boys try to argue with me when I say good things about them? They're so weird.

But there's something he doesn't want her to know. Again from the 1st birthday...

It feels like he's afraid. It feels like he's been through something and doesn't want to make the same mistake again. Or he's constantly fighting… probably with his own curse… which forces him to do something to her (remember that his curse contradicts his essence). Vivi says something about it at the 1st Christmas event. This darkness demands that he stains her and whisks her away (I wrote about it here).

But his expectations of Kate really came true. She really brought change. And she even changed him. This is from his 2nd birthday story translated by @.reccyls.

It already looks like we're in the middle of his route. He feels that he is becoming less like an observer, he feels that he wants more for himself.

And now my assumptions, which, in fact, are based on nothing at all

The only thing we can be sure about is a kiss on the forehead. It was mentioned twice (I talked about it at the kiss event). The fact that Kate mentioned it twice means that developers are most likely to use it on one of the main routes. It could be Darius or someone we don't know about yet, but I think… that it's Victor. And it's not just his reaction to that kiss that makes me think so. But the DARK IF event.

I know it's an alternate world, but… the essence of the characters is the same, and it's quite interesting to imagine his main route through the prism of this event. Vivi's story hasn't been released yet, but in the second part of the event, there was a story for 95k points, and it's gorgeous. Translated by @.reccyls.

And this part is from a letter from this event. Not quite, but let's put it this way. Translated by @.reccyls.

The one and only. The soulmates. Actually, this theme is very strong at this event, and maybe I shouldn't even focus on it. But… for some reason, this concept seems very fitting for Vivi. The Vivi we know from Victorian London. And I really like to see this theme on at least one route in this game. Why not on Victor's, right?

So… my theory… Victor and Kate met when Kate was still a child. We haven't determined whether Victor is human or not, so I won't talk about him, but Kate was a child and witnessed something very bad. Something that could easily break the psyche for life. Victor solved the problem and kissed her on the forehead… and that's literally the only thing she remembers. It was probably just a short meeting, but for some reason they both remembered it. And now… after all these years, they meet again because they are destined to be together… I got goosebumps.

I think we should expect a second Tamamo route. With the "I want to be your friend so you won't be alone". They will work together, but this time she will help him with his work, and someone from his past will appear. Don't tell me he was a king as well… Thatever. And… so the hot scene will only be after the last avatar challenge (or even only in the epilogues).

Dark times are ahead... Patience to all of us.

@ethereal-blossom, Michelle, dear, I haven't found how to use your theories… my brain is burning up a bit after two days of thinking. But I'd like you to look at it. Maybe you could point out my mistakes or would like to add something. You know I'm always happy to read your thoughts.

The design of the spikelet on the dividers I took from Designed by Freepik

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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[emmg]

Swapped sugar daddy anon crawling back into ur inbox, (I am continuing to write the beginning of their relationship, and ngl my respect for fic writers has tripled. I have no idea how you do this I feel like a 5 yr old smacking 2 barbies together and yelling kiss) and apologies for how long this is but I’ve been thinking about how everything eventually blows up in their faces and I kinda want it to be a pregnancy scare in her final year? They’ve been seeing each other for a few years now, and they get a little relaxed about things, they’re exclusive and she’s on the pill so they don’t have to worry about it. Until her period is several weeks late so she takes a test just in case and suddenly they really do. And oh god she wants kids, especially Emmrich’s kids, but not right now??? She doesn’t want to have to juggle pregnancy/a baby while writing and defending her thesis. They haven’t even talked about kids yet even if she’s pretty sure he wants them? He hasn’t acknowledged her hints about marriage, is it because he doesn’t want to marry her? She’s so scared about what this means and she needs Emmrich’s support and why is he being so weird and cagey about this? Does he think she’s trying to baby trap him? (She doesn’t know but he wouldn’t mind, he’d probably say thank you)

And Emmrich is in crisis mode. Now, he is a pro choice king so whatever rook wants is what happens, but also oh god he wants this child sooo bad. He’s always wanted kids but he’d kinda given up on it at this point and add in that it’s Rooks baby? a little piece of their love made physical (Don’t think too hard about how she doesn’t really love you Emmrich). An excuse to still see her sometimes, even if it means watching her eventually move on and marry and start a family with someone else. Even if she doesn’t want to be involved he could keep this little part of her (its only for a second, but he thinks he’d give her anything she asked for, he’d pay off her student loans, he’d buy her a fucking house, if she let him have this even if she walks away from it) but she can’t know that. He’d never forgive himself if he pressured her into this no matter how much he wants it. And he realises how completely and utterly fucked he is. Rook is the love of his life but he isn’t hers and there’s no way that this can continue as it is. If she keeps the baby she’ll never really be able to leave him behind, and is he selfish enough to ruin her life like that? He’s already bought the last three years with fancy restaurants and expensive gifts, what can he possibly offer her that’s worth the rest of her life?

I’m still not 100% sure about how it all comes out but I imagine that it's probably a fight, their first big real fight, about how rook feels like Emmrich’s being avoidant and unsupportive and Emmrich is fighting for his life bc internally he’s hanging on by a thread, like why is she treating this like their relationship is actually real? He’s trying to build up some emotional distance bc no matter how this goes he’s kinda fucked and he wants to make sure that he makes it through this at least somewhat emotionally intact. I think rook eventually calls him out on this, saying something about how she thought he was serious about this, about her, how she thought they were gonna get married but how he’s acting is making her rethink that bc it doesn’t seem like he is very serious about her right now. And he says something about how of course he wants to marry her but he wouldn’t put her in that position bc he knows it would be unfair to ask her for that. And rook is like what the actual fuck are you talking about Emmrich? And Emmrich is crying at this point, quietly and very prettily but he is crying. And this is when the misunderstanding comes out, where Emmrich is like “I know you don’t actually love me and I don’t expect you to, but I would appreciate it if we could discuss this situation without pretending that you do.” and this is when rook starts to put the pieces together and is like “wait do u think i'm only with you for your money” and Emmrich’s like “yes? Why else would you be dating me?”

I have absolutely zero ideas on how this is actually resolved but i know that emmrich 100% ugly sobs at some point. And realistically he’s probably still quite insecure about whether or not rook actually does love him but i feel like they work it out eventually and get married and are disgustingly happy together.

Also idk if they keep the baby or not, but they absolutely have at least 1 kid at some point.

BABYYYYYY I am ON MY KNEES begging you to publish this because I have read and re-read it so many times that I’m basically in a parasocial relationship with your asks. At this point, just reading your ideas is activating my primal hunger instincts. I’m starving. I am THIS CLOSE to organizing a fandom-wide intervention where we collectively cyberbully you into dropping this holy manuscript.

The way I flatlined at "pro-choice king"—like, I ascended. I left my body. LMAO

Listen, I am normally violently allergic to the "and they lived happily ever after with 2.5 kids and a suburban mortgage" trope. I break out in hives. I see it, and suddenly the book I loved turns into a mid-tier Hallmark movie where the protagonist goes from slaying demons to clutching her stomach and whispering “oh my god.” Like, girl. GIRL. No. Keep that away from me. Anyway, thanks for attending my TED Talk.

BUT. FUCKING. EMMRICH VOLKARIN. This man was engineered in a lab to be a father. He was born for it. I go absolutely rabid over the idea of him having a daughter. He is so girl-dad-coded that it’s spiritual. Rook so much as mentions her period is late, and this man is weeping.

He’s already drafting a will.

He's calling his lawyer.

He’s distributing his gold bars.

He’s making her his sole life insurance beneficiary.

"And rook is like what the actual fuck are you talking about Emmrich?" — lmfao nah for real. What did you think these last three years were? And Emmrich does that Gob face from Arrested Development, you know the one:

I want him to cry and then I want them to fuck and then I want him to cry while they fuck. That's it, your honor.

[vinylfoxbooks]

February 14 - Minerva McGonagall | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 1,563 Part 2 of Medical Apprentice James AU Part 1 | Part 3

“Professor McGonagall wanted to speak to you about your apprenticeship with me, James.” Poppy hums, stirring the pain draught she’s cooking up, “She said that she would be visiting here in about ten minutes, I would appreciate it if you went out and waited for her and anyone else that may come in.” James nods, thanks the woman, and goes back out into the main area of the medical area. They take a moment to check up on the few students they currently have in bed, making sure they don’t need anything. 

McGonagall comes in not long after, striding straight towards James, “Would you mind meeting with me and Madam Pomfrey, Mister Potter?” James nods and tries not to show their nervousness as they stand and guide her into the back room once again. 

Madam Pomfrey has her potion simmering and is sitting at her little desk. She smiles at the two, gesturing to the chairs nearby. McGonagall goes to sit in the one nearest to her wife -- a trade secret that James only knows because he’s spent so much time with both of them and seen the way they visit each other -- and James taking the other one. 

“I apologize for the last minute meeting,” McGonagall starts, “And I bid you not worry about this, James. I bring you good news.” She accios a couple sheets of paper, putting them onto the desk in a way that James can read them, “You did excellent on your tests and your apprenticeship application and papers, I must say that it is nice to see you actually applying your intelligence for something beneficial, and I have spent time discussing with the Headmaster and Professor Slughorn. We’ve all come to the agreement that you will be fully beginning a higher level apprenticeship with Madam Pomfrey and therefore will be permitted to perform low level healing spells only without moderation,” a pointed look, James doesn't blame her for it, “I understand that you and your friends are consistently worried about Lupin’s health and therefore I have gotten you permission to work with Madam Pomfrey to find her process for his healing and therefore can heal him within your dorm in three month’s time.” What wonderful news, James almost preens at the information and compliments, feeling themself get jittery at all of the news. They barely hold back exploding when they thank her, meeting the woman’s composed smile with a brilliant one of their own. 

“I know that you will do good in this world, James.” McGonagall finishes up with, then she stands, sends a softer smile to Poppy, and excuse herself from the room.

As soon as she’s gone, James whips their head around to look at the healer, “Did you know about this?” 

“Of course I did, James.” She smiles, standing up and walking to them, putting her hand on their shoulder, “I was part of the conversation. I’m excited to teach you even more than I have and see you learn to help people safely.” James doesn’t comment that she knows about them, and other students, healing each other already. That doesn’t matter here. 

Something in the room goes off to inform them that someone walked into the medical room and the woman grins at them, “I need to finish up with the draught, can you handle that?” James nods and thanks her, standing up and heading out of the room. 

They don’t let their shock show when the two waiting for them are Sirius and… Regulus? James is immediately on alert, “What happened?” 

Sirius looks at them with an indecipherable look, “Can we get Regulus a bed first?” James nods and goes to open up a clean area, watching Sirius guide his brother into the bed. Then he’s sitting down as far away from him as possible while James grabs a new sheet, sitting down next to the bed. They charm a quill and gesture for Sirius to go on, “We were doing a little brotherly bonding in the form of quidditch, you know how you suggested that we talk while doing a hobby we both enjoy? Yeah, and there was a bit of an accident.” 

“An accident, how?” 

“We were…” Sirius hums, his face going a bit red. 

Regulus rolls his eyes, “We were provoking each other and I stopped paying as much attention as I should’ve and got injured.” 

“You’re going to have to specify.” 

Regulus goes into talking about what happened and James nods, “I know that you’re protective about your modesty, but you’re going to have to take your shirt off for me so I can check the bruises and get a look at your ribs.” There’s a moment of hesitation, with Regulus and Sirius seemingly exchanging a nonverbal conversation. Before Regulus sighs and goes to pull up his shirt while James gives him some privacy and closes the curtains to his area. They don’t make a comment on the scars under Regulus’ chest, instead they hum and take in the colouration of his skin. They get into their examination, gently testing Regulus’ ribs and running a couple spells to look into it. 

When they finish with their cursory report, they go to get a pain draught for him and hand it off to him while they ensure that they know the spells that they’re needing to cast. It’s only then does Sirius ask, “Wait, you’re actually allowed to do spells now? Why didn’t you tell me?”

James smiles at him, “It’s only something that’s been established for about ten minutes. There’s more to it that I’ll tell you later.” They check to see if the pain draught has started to kick in for Regulus before pointing their wand at him, reassuring him that they’re healing him and have no intent to harm, then casting the spell. Regulus grits his teeth and shuts his eyes but doesn’t otherwise say anything. 

James informs the brothers that Regulus is going to have to stay until at least the end of the day so he can be watched. They tell Sirius to go off with Remus and reassure him that they’ll give him the most recent update when they get back to the dorm later in the day. 

Sirius leaves reluctantly, leaving James and Regulus alone. James goes to put his information sheet on the post nearby while Regulus puts his shirt back on. They ask if he needs anything and goes to update Poppy before checking on the others in the infirmary. 

Surprisingly enough, Regulus is still awake when they go back, and he has a book with him that James didn’t see him walk in with. James hums, “I hate to interrupt your reading, but I have to check up on you.” They hold out the pot of bruise salve that they have for him, “I can apply this or you can, but it’ll help with your bruises.” 

Regulus hums, “I doubt that you hate to interrupt me, you love to inconvenience my life.” James grins at him but they don’t say anything, just venture further into the space while Regulus bookmarks his book and sets it to the side, taking the salve from their hands. 

Neither of them talk while Regulus works to slowly apply it to his skin, his shirt brought up to just rest on his shoulders with James holding it for him. Until Regulus hums, “Sirius was telling me that you’ve been coming in here and helping out Madam Pomfrey for a while, why are you actually interested in healing?” 

James hums, their eyes going foggy even if they’re gazing at him, “I always thought that I wanted to be an Auror, but my pita is a potions maker, I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. He tried so hard to get me into potions but it didn’t really work, until I-” they shake their head, “There are some things that I can’t tell you about, but I’ve been helping and learning healing spells and potions recipes for my friends, specifically Remus and Sirius for a long time, and… I realised that I like healing people and medical potions are just the right amount of complicated and simple for me to remember them well. So I talked to Poppy about helping her and went through the process to start here.” They hum, “I get that it’s hard for you to wrap your head around the idea that I want to help people, but-”

“I can believe it.” Regulus says, quiet. They put the lid back on the salve and hand it back to them. James lets his shirt drop and they lean back in their chair, “I didn’t- I didn’t believe it before, but I’ve been talking to Sirius and it’s come up a couple times. He’s mentioned that you- that you’re usually the one to help him when we come back from break so he didn’t have to think about casting healing spells right… Thank you, for taking care of him.” 

James smiles softly, “It’s- everyone needs someone to take care of them, and my parents taught me how to be that person.” They shrug with one shoulder, then stand up, “I’ll come check on you soon. If you need a pain draught, you can always call for Poppy or me.” Regulus nods and they slip out of the room, closing the curtain behind them.

[wildymoon]

Why Hotguy (Probably) Isn't Possessed: A DDVAU Post

.... Or at least why it would be a bit biased to say that is the case right off the bat just cause the blorbo said something you really didn't like.

(NOTE: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR DDVAU) (Also the images I've used are all from the comic, go take a look either on Tumblr or Webtoons)

Part 1: Would This Face Lie To You?

Yes. Because everyone has the capacity to lie, and Scar canonically has a silver tongue. Look at 3rd Life and try to tell me otherwise. I will laugh at you.

But the difference is framing. In 3rd Life and nearly everywhere else this silver tongue of Scar's is used, it's in a silly white lie way at best and simply to win a game at worst. Hell, even in other works I've seen it's primarily used to benefit others, not himself.

For this reason (among others that vary from person to person that I won't elaborate on here cause that's complicated), it becomes much easier to believe that Scar here isn't acting normal. He's tapping into his cunning side with much more ruthlessness than we're used to seeing from him normally, and thus we grasp for any other option. Not only that, but the Motherspore Incident gives us the perfect excuse for his behavior, especially with what is said at the end.

Was the target truly Grian, or were they trying to get at Hotguy? We won't know for sure until later, but the idea of him getting possessed is something for the copium to take advantage of, and as such it does so.

(Even for me. I have almost an entire two-monitor screenshot in which I copypasted almost every detailed Hotguy face to analyze and make a decision based on the expressions compared to the latest volume. This I will get into in the part dedicated to his expressions and why they matter for both sides of the argument.)

Either way, assuming someone who is known for using that silver tongue of his to get what he wants isn't doing that of his own free will, even if it feels unkind or out of character at first glance, isn't exactly the smartest thing.

Part 2: The "Pragmatic" Approach Is Not Kind

Aka, "local utilitarian explains the logic behind being a dick in this scenario", or "devil's advocate except the supposed devil is just a blorbo getting into real blackmail".

So, let's first consider Hotguy's primary options for how he could've taken that interrogation, and their effects. I'll list these in order of action taken against Grian for simplicity's sake:

Leave Grian alone entirely. At first, this looks like the best option. Grian needs time to heal, and Hotguy just barging on in like that is stressful at best for someone who'd just been told he got possessed and tried to kill people. But this temporary peace would come with consequences. With no one to tell the public otherwise, Grian would likely get arrested for hiding his status as a mutant from the government. So this one is simply not worth it.

Reason with Grian. This is the option most likely expected from Hotguy before the page rolled around. It gives him a chance to exercise the softer side of his silver tongue a bit more, and is a significantly less aggressive way of trying to get the information he needs to protect the public. The issue with this is that Grian is not cooperative. He does not like Hotguy very much, and definitely would give as little information as he possibly can to what is basically a cop. "Everything you say can and will be used against you," and all that jazz. He's also pretty much immune to Hotguy's charm, so being niceys won't change that. Essentially, no matter what way he goes about it he's going to have to deal in something that Grian actually cares about.

Blackmail Grian. This is the choice Hotguy made, and he didn't sugarcoat it very much either. I'm thinking the reason he did could be related to how he knew simply reasoning with Grian wouldn't work; had he really gone in with the honeyed words, Grian would've told him to cut the bullshit even sooner. This, while more visibly putting Grian in a spot of bother, isn't actually that much more dangerous for him than the other options. I've already explained why the first option actually sucks, and the second option relies on Grian trusting Hotguy (which he doesn't). It also gives Hotguy two things simultaneously: information (his priority), and keeping his friend out of jail (so long as he cooperates, which he has). The second thing may or may not be important to him, but it's still an added bonus. This is the option in which Hotguy is guaranteed to get the most information about the incident.

Turn Grian in immediately. If you hadn't realized there was a worse option than 3 then surprise! There is! This is the option that I believe would actually be out of character for Hotguy. Even if he wanted Grian imprisoned for whatever reason, his priority would still be to get information, nothing else. And there's no guarantee Grian would tell absolutely anything in custody, let alone anything about the incident. It would take potentially blackmailing him here to do it, and that feels like a step too far. Hotguy only needs information, and he knows stigma too well to truly take part in it, especially if it probably won't net him what he needs. So, not that option either.

In all, Hotguy's choice was the only one that could truly get him the yield he wanted: information on the attack in hopes he could prevent any further ones. Do I think he went too far? Yes. Absolutely. He should've stopped with his threats the moment he stopped asking actual questions about the incident. There was no reason (in my opinion) to continue with them.

But for the most part, I believe this isn't a man possessed, just a cop seeking intel. Speaking of.....

Part 3: "Duty"

Sorry guys, superheroes funded by the government are technically cops. This makes Hotguy a cop. Your blorbo is a cop.

In all seriousness, Hotguy does in fact have a job, and as such it is his duty to protect the citizens of the city from the bad and such, blah blah blah. This includes Grian, since he was possessed by the bad and not the bad itself (as such that makes him a victim).

The question, however, remains. "How best does one protect an entire city?" I've answered this already with Hotguy's highest priority in the interaction with Grian: information. To get this information while protecting the most citizens, he must threaten or harm at least one no matter what he does. Because simple threats harm the least, his answer is to threaten two for the sake of maximizing the future harm reduced.

It is, once again, a utilitarian stance on things. But if your goal isn't to be strict to the rules, that's how choices should be made: Not with biases, but with thought given to all options and all those affected.

Now, does his duty state he should be that much of an ass? No, but I already went over this. "He made the best overall choice but he should've been more considerate." It doesn't get much simpler than that.

Part 4: Expression And Tone - The Other Argument

Here we go. This is what originally inspired the making of this post, as an argument for the side that claimed Scar was possessed.

The reason behind it? I'd noticed a significant shift in Hotguy's expressions even without going through each individual page. As someone who cannot read body language for shit usually, this was a pretty significant indicator that something was wrong for me.

Upon further inspection and reflection, this isn't quite the cause for alarm I'd thought it was, but it's still one of the better arguments for Scar being possessed so I'll elaborate.

Before the Motherspore Incident, each of Hotguy's expressions that were close enough to the camera to be drawn properly showed at least one eye through his visor. There is exactly ONE exception to this in my eyes, and even that one can fit in with my claim here: Hotguy's action shot in Chapter 7.

Here, the panel is big enough that if it was any regular panel it would likely show his eyes, but the visor is too small to really draw good eyes for the panel here, not to mention it would probably take away from the composition. But that's not what's important here; that honor goes to the fact that this is the only instance of a bigger panel in which Hotguy's eyes are not shown.

.... Up until Motherspore, that is.

Here, this makes sense: The eye in the first one would get in the way of the text, and in the second one his hair is covering his visor. The third is an action shot, similar to the one in Chapter 7. These make sense.

But then... something shifts once the fight is over and Hotguy carries Grian out. Once he reaches the outside, the amount of times we see his eyes, his expression? TWO.

Both are heavily simplified, with specific intent on making his expression clear on a small panel, but in every other panel from that point on in the chapter show him with the visor covering his expression.

And that's when we get into Chapters 14 and 15. This is when the shift becomes obvious. Instead of all his expressions on large enough panels showing at least one of his eyes, instead we're given almost the exact opposite.

This is the only. I repeat. The ONLY larger panel in which both his eyes are shown (when he has the visor on) since the end of Motherspore.

It's almost the only panel in the entirety of the chapter like that, but there's a singular smaller panel here with both his eyes:

That's it. Everything else has the way his expressions interacting with his visor the exact opposite way from the entire rest of the story so far.

This is why I thought he was, in fact, possessed at first. It was such a dramatic change that, when you don't consider the other reasons why this could be the case, it feels wrong. It feels like he could be possessed.

Especially if you consider this as related to it:

It just feels, if you compile everything together and build that argument, as something that could be plausible.

Plausible, not guaranteed. But plausible nonetheless.

But what could go against this? The tone.

Because, before Motherspore, this whole thing had a much more lighthearted tone. Hotguy had a much more lighthearted tone. Then he has to handle Motherspore. Then, the public, after a fight that made him require backup (true backup, unlike what we see from Cuteguy).

He puts on a mask to the public. That's what happened at the end of Chapter 13.

And then again, when facing Grian. He cannot slip up, cannot let Grian notice who he is or even consider it. He puts on a mask to ensure he can get what he wants safely. That's why we only see his eyes open behind his visor the one time, when Grian cannot look at his face.

He's taking a page from Cuteguy's book, in a way. Not the newest trick in any book, but I figure y'all'd like the connection.

Part 5: In Conclusion

Is Scar possessed? No, probably not. There's always a chance, but it's more likely that everyone got a bit blindsided by the cutthroat way Hotguy handled interrogations.

Remember that characters can make bad or mean decisions! Even if that character is meant to be a good guy, they still can make these choices, mistake or not. Sometimes, it's the best decision they can make. And sometimes, they just went about it in a way they probably shouldn't've.

Either way Hotguy's going to pay in spades by however Cuteguy's going to handle meeting him again, probably.

Bonus: All those copypasted Hotguy faces, for your enjoyment and my going bonkers insane

(There are no notes written down here because I am bonkers on the level that my brain moves too fast to type it all down.)

(ONCE AGAIN, the images I've used are all from the comic, go take a look either on Tumblr or Webtoons)

[infiniteorangethethird]

I don't know where this "if you don't feel love/empathy you're evil" idea comes from like if you can only be decent towards people if you love them/feel empathy towards them then I'm pretty sure I'm not the one mistreating more people of the two of us

[hihopelessromantics]

Open letter of love to the queer and LGBTQIA community in America and abroad in these dark times. Please know that out there in the world there is at least [1], likely many more, people who witnessed your existence and are fundamentally better for it. Someone who took courage from your expression of self. Someone was genuinely able to smile in a dark place because they saw you, or something you made to express yourself. Someone who saw something you and your community shared with the world and felt so lucky to witness it. Someone who took comfort knowing you are out there somewhere and hopes you will thrive. Maybe you will never know the exact measure of joy you brought to some people, and get to understand the gratitude and love they have for you, which is a damn shame. To the queer people in my life and those I’ve had the pleasure of crossing paths with, through art or dialogue or writing or silly posting, thank you. And thank you for sharing your thoughts and creations with us. I hope you will continue to do so, and that many more people than you anticipated will step forward and fight like hell for you. You deserve it.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[chipthekeeper]

There has never, in the history of characters, been a character that means more to me than Vel Sartha. I’ve been finding it difficult to express that feeling. That feeling of being so thankful and so appreciative that this fictional person has somehow made their way into your life and your heart. How is it even possible (much less healthy) to love someone that doesn’t exist so much? I still don’t know. I may never know. And I may go on a mile long rant now that doesn’t even begin to help you understand what she means to me. But all I can do is try.

If you follow me, you probably already know some of what I love to yell about Vel regularly:

She’s a world class yearner, she’s a sad little puppy, she’s a born rebel, she’s a spoiled rich girl. She’s a trusted leader, she’s a bitchy ex girlfriend, she’s a doting “aunt.” She’s pretty, pathetic, puppydog eyes (and oh my GOD her eyes!!). She cares. She loves. She fights. She makes mistakes and doesn’t trust herself as much as she should, but she trusts others and knows when to use their gifts over hers. She’s insecure but she’s commanding, she’s tough but understanding.

I hope you’ll forgive the weird venture into lyricism but it just came out that way. The point is, Vel is so interesting because she’s so contradictory, because she changes, because she puts on a different mask and becomes a different person but she's always the same at her core. She shapeshifts but she is also just fundamentally changed by what happens to her and her team. And that’s merely a piece of what I love about her.

Because it’s one thing just to get a Star Wars character who’s a woman who has so many sides and layers, but it’s an entirely other, more life-altering thing that that character is like me. That her first rebellion was against her own society, her own family, just because of who she is. I’m actually sobbing writing this because never in my life did I think I’d get to see something like this on screen in my favorite media. A real, canonical, undeniably, unapologetically queer woman with a whole personality AND a girlfriend. A character whose sexuality can’t be brushed away no matter how hard “they” might try to do so because IT IS ESSENTIAL TO WHO SHE IS. It is essential to her arc, her story, her motivations, to her interactions with other characters. And it’s not cheesy or preachy or boring or “toxic.” It’s real. It’s just real. It’s relatable. And it means the fucking world to me.

But even if you're not like me and that representation is cool to see but doesn't have the same effect on you, there is still plenty to appreciate about Vel Sartha. And actually, I really need to you appreciate her because -- and I know I'm biased but the numbers don't lie -- she is literally one of the most underrated characters on the show. With the third-highest amount of screen time behind only Cassian and Luthen, she should be up there among the most loved people in the series. And yet she's constantly overlooked and misunderstood. She never made a big speech and she didn't die interestingly or heroically. She didn't get to stab anyone or hit anyone with a brick. She just goes through some very real trauma and has a very real response to it, and people like to think that makes her weak and therefore not interesting as a rebel. Fortunately, though, it has become my life's duty to make everyone see the error in that logic.

When we first meet Vel, she is already so interesting as the leader of this little rebel band. She's the smallest one there but she has such a big presence. We find out right away that she wanted to lead, she wanted to be doing more and putting herself on the line. And she is good at it!! The men are resistant to the change she brings them but not because they don't respect her. She can command them with just a look, and she makes it known that even the big bad Imperial officer is not the boss, she is. Plus she's competent at the skills she needs -- she's a good shot and she looks right with the gun in her hands. You'd never know from watching that first arc that she started out as a spoiled rich girl.

Even when we see her weakness, though, it makes her more interesting. I love her insecurity as she watches Clem flirt with Cinta, I love the small looks of apprehension the day before the heist. I love how torn she is over how much to tell the team. And I especially love when the entire five-month-long operation nearly comes to a grinding halt as she looks down in fear from the top of the dam. But, to paraphrase my own fanfic, I don't think it's the height that causes Vel to hesitate, it's the weight. The weight of the biggest operation the rebellion has ever pulled, all on her shoulders. The weight of having to actually, finally make this decision to go or not, to send her team, her friends, into the unknown, to set off a chain of events that could turn the whole galaxy on its head. That’s SO much weight for such a small moment, and she almost crumbles under it. And even though she ultimately doesn't, I know it continues to weigh on her after the job because if she hadn't wasted all that time up there, maybe they'd have all made it out alive.

And this is where the switch happens for Vel. After all her men are dead and she's only barely made it out to see another day with Cinta, she's completely different. She's small again, scared and unsure. The confident, gritty leader she became on Aldhani died with the rest of them. She still puts on the masks when she has to and she's still a rebel, still dedicated to the cause, but she needs a break and some time to process her guilt. That's something I think people don't take into account enough with Vel. It was never that she was "cosplaying a rebel" or whatever people started to think once they learned who she is, it's that she feels responsible for losing almost her entire team.

But she has Cinta to remind her that there's not really time to take a break, and, because they are complementary halves of each other, she also reminds Cinta later that it is important to rest. I don't need to get into another ridiculously long rant about them as a couple (you can see my presentation for more if you need it), but suffice to say....this is a huge part of her character. Her love and devotion to Cinta might appear as a weakness to some, but to me it's an absolutely essential element of Star Wars: saving what you love, not fighting what you hate. Vel goes through most of the second half of the season timid and anxious, but when she thinks Cinta's life could be in danger, she literally sprints into the fire to try to find her, to save her. What could be braver than that?

I truly could go on and on for days about her, as I have for the past 800-plus days already (I took fully 10 pages of notes to prepare for this and we have BARELY scratched the surface here), but I'm sure I've lost most people already. The last thing I need to talk about though is that I owe Faye Marsay my life. She did such an amazing job with Vel, playing all the different sides of her so perfectly and conveying so many emotions and thoughts with just her face or her eyes. And beyond that, it's incredibly moving to see an actually queer actor playing a queer character in a franchise this big, and to see her be so proud of that work of "normalizing the normal" is equally thrilling. I would kill to have her play Vel for decades, selfishly, but I'll continue to be so ridiculously happy with every single moment of them both that I do get.

In conclusion (for now), please please please appreciate this tiny but monumental character, because my mental health depends on it but also because she absolutely deserves it.

"Everyone has their own rebellion," Vel tells us, and mine is destined to be against everyone who dares to underrate her.

Character Appreciation Friday - Vel Sartha

Name: Vel Sartha Played by: Faye Marsay Appearances: Aldhani, The Axe Forgets, The Eye, Announcement, Narkina 5, Nobody's Listening!, Daughter of Ferrix, Rix Road

Happy Friday and happy VELENTINE'S DAY, gang!!! Look I'm not gonna act like this is a normal one because that would be very dishonest of me. This is the most important day of the year for me, and I'd really really really love if everyone would help out with spreading appreciation and love for my number one sad girl rebel.

Please let me know what you appreciate about dear Vel in a reblog, comment, or ask!

Next week: Brasso

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also putting 1 and 1 together. as well as words like. as you can use a punch card for "i love my friends" being said around the xmas show b/c also it's a line actedly spontaneously expressed in the mister chestnut christmas medley, punch card for "heart words," there at the start of bloodsong / introduction to the musician & banana & the former's hardassedness & vinegar wit vs banana is not like that, banana saying the musician & his music is saying Dance, Banana, not with your mouth words, but with your heart words....& the musician is like terse mouthwordedness, ft. the audience's ability to infer that perhaps the musician is not really heartwording these things or really that invested in funny little guy dancing tambourine accompaniment. But In True Form....

holding that up to the other [1] in which the musician like Would Be has all the protagonist hardass lead hero power he needs to devote himself to his Mission & kill anyone w/music along the way but it's like step one. i Need banana. cannot do it without having banana here & that has nothing to do with Strategic power levels like he's gonna tell banana no it's fine if you just like are a held hostage no epic successful moves contributor who can't help me during a Situation, don't even worry about it....needs to have his special little guy there, in true form, you wouldn't have to change anything abt the verses of the friendship song to have it be a love(tm) song but it's not b/c it's necessarily that / Not the friendship song really, would never say if the way a relationship is described is like "enough" in whatever metric of intensity intimacy whatever it must Not be [anything] & must Indeed be [anything], lord knows i'm not here to interpret anything as romance as a category based on something inherent, not a context of normative relationality larping. which is also what is happening in bsol, unless you're the romantic leads, in which case i'm like well that's none of my concern except in how it is a plot device....

cue what is also what i was going to get around to in that paragraph anyway like it is beautiful to have the musician be like "well my wife is taken hostage for Evil Marriage larping? obviously gotta go save her" & then have "but first. again i may have already committed my whole being to this & have my lethal music powers but. i Need banana before i can do anything more" & Then have that become a matter of taking on a parallel like well great news banana was also taken hostage for evil marriage larping. (see: exquisite twist & turning contrast is that in this case the "well i want to have the Set & Performance of Marriage, so. pointing a gun at this guy for these three years" hostage taker is openly contemptuous toward banana & all & so perhaps you expect the bastard(tm) to be the exact same way with His [kidnapped hostage okay so now you're my wife then; points a knife at this woman for three years] situation, but first of all the [the conflict w/the antagonist foil brings out [conflict with/in oneself]] element like we need a bit more depth lol so we get that but like, while obviously they're not Actually Close we already are shown that lo cocodrilo Knows this & is actually bothered by it, rather than just like well as long as you have to be staying here on set going through motions then we're good to go. not only the failure of the crocodile approach but failure at Being the crocodile, if he did not actually care about having someone's actual affection (& cue that even after a comedically disastrous exchange, lo cocodrilo's like Default Marriage Larping is the "good evening, darling :)" exit lmao like. is not just fine with genuine contempt beyond the larping) how many brackets am i in what tangent am i on....i think i accidentally concluded it in Sidebar Parenthetical mode there, classic. the contrast that banana's wife is openly contemptuous / hostile, lo cocodrilo has the hostility more comically mixed up in Oh Just Another Average Dinner along with also actually being the party concerned with the desire / pursuit of Genuine Affection / not really being like well this must be fine or as good as it gets then when my wife (who also by contrast is the held hostage party here) tells me to kill myself or what have you)

anyway so that when the musician first before anything else Needs banana & this means saving him from being held hostage in "well, this must be fine? & ideal even, due to the normativity contexts?" (see: again, in an inverse situation, it's lo cocodrilo gunning for the Normative Ideals. while also santa violetta kind of is too but the marriage she already had where she wasn't held hostage for it) evil marriage with someone who hates him & we also see that [the conventions of the spaghetti western is an Expressive device] particularly persistently pushed back for i wear polo shirts now :(....

but what i was getting around to, throwback to that part where i was saying we had the room to think that banana as funny little guy sidekick was, according to conventions, more superfluous to the serious big protagonist than not, surely all the more so when that hero's mission gets activated, all the more seriously. surely that banana is liking to think that the musician is encouraging him to dance with his heart words, not his mouth words, & the musician is mostly like yeah sure whatever but i'm not even gonna use the mouth words to say even that. but here we are getting this scene where it's Step One I Need Banana i'll die or i'll kill to get to him & then i'll use my heart & mouth words alike to indeed encourage him like i know you need to Dance & Sing & Tambourine & be my special little guy who i also need btw. funny little guy banana being right & not being superfluous at all, & i don't know how i'd sing if to me you didn't cling

[ourceliumnetwork]

painted my nails for the first time in a while last night - i'll probably add a second coat tonight - may try and use it as a base for a fancy one that doesn't have a load of pigment on a couple nails just to be, well, fancy lol. don't know if the paint's gonna stick around long after the holidays. i keep forgetting i don't work in food service so i'm allowed to have bracelets and hair ties on my wrists and paint on my nails again, and also i'm not entirely sure whether i even actually like having them be visible lol.

[nessvn]

I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABT RAYMONDE

[rowarn]

IF YOU NEEDED ME !

simon riley/reader – 7.1k words sale of a lifetime mini series !

tags: smut, childhood best friend!simon, virginity for sale trope, unrealized feelings, soft!simon, protective!simon, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet & messy, fingering, creampie, mid-sex love confession, a little arguing but nothing crazy tbh, petnames (love, lovie, sweetheart)

; he remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. he never thought he was deserving of such happiness. but now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.

or.

he may not have been the first man you picked to give your first time to. but looking back, you realized he was the only right choice in the end.

Meeting some unknown, shady guy out on the street outside of a seedy bar wasn’t the smartest decision you’ve ever made. Nor was it how you actually intended to spend your Friday evening. But it was the only option you had at the moment, so you swallowed your nerves and forced yourself to stay put at the spot the guy had chosen despite the fact that being out on the street made you feel x10 more nervous and vulnerable. 

You could hear the loud music and chatter inside the bar every time the door opened to let someone in or out. There was a chill in the air that had you contemplating actually going inside and just telling the guy to meet you in there – you were about to give the bastard your damn virginity, the least he could be was accommodating to your temperature struggles. Plus, you could really use a drink.

A car, expensive by the looks of it, pulling up to the curb had you pausing in that train of thought. You recognized him from his profile picture when he stepped out of the vehicle – Lucas, you recall being his name. Whether that was really his name or not didn’t matter; all that mattered was he brought what he promised.

“You have the money?” you asked when he approached you, giving him a tight-lipped smile as a greeting.

“Yeah, got it in the car. All cash, I hope that’s alright,” he grinned, a sight that made a shiver go down your spine. His tone didn’t match the smile, all transactional and dull despite the glimmer in his eyes.

He wasn’t necessarily unattractive but he certainly wasn’t your type. There was a look in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl because you felt like you were nothing but a piece of raw meat in front of a starving, salivating predator. 

“We should get going,” he said, hurrying to open the backseat of his car for you.

You paused, “Aren’t we going to go inside or something?”

He looked confused, grip on the door tightening for a moment before he bursted out laughing. When he saw the shocked look on your face he sobered up, “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. Sweetheart, this isn’t a date. I’m just here to get what I paid for.”

“Oh…” you swallowed around the lump in your throat at the condescending tone, humiliation making your cheeks burn, “Right.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes and you quickly averted your gaze so he wouldn’t see how much that stung. Of course, you knew it wasn’t a date. This was a transaction. But you at least thought you’d get to know the guy who was about to take your virginity. You should have known better.

A man who was paying for your virginity wasn’t bound to be someone you could trust to feel comfortable around. You quietly sigh, resigning yourself to this all for the sake of some fucking money. 

You settle into the car, heart jumping into your throat when the door slams. It feels as if you’ve just sealed your fate and you can’t deny that you’re scared. 

But there’s an envelope next to you that you can see stuffed with bills and you clench your fists, trying to calm your racing heart by closing your eyes and breathing. 

You just hope this decision doesn’t cost you your life or something. You’d hate to imagine what that would do to a certain someone.

Suddenly, the car jostles. Your eyes snap open and you see Lucas is jacked up against the side of the car, a very familiar form caging him in. His scarred hands grip the man’s shirt in tight fists. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see Lucas is chattering frantically, gesturing wildly with his hands in an attempt to quell the angry man in the skull balaclava. 

You curse to yourself, a different kind of terror shocking through your system. Lucas is thrown to the side and you wince at how hard he hits the pavement before the car door is jerked open.

You can’t even say anything before a strong, rough hand wraps around your arm, yanking you out. You stumble once you’re on your feet, falling right into his chest. 

You try to pull away but his arm clamps down around you. 

Lucas is cursing and screaming his head off, words you don’t even bother to try and decipher because you’re too preoccupied with the masked figure that made his sudden appearance. Nerves make your knees shake and from the look of pure rage in his eyes, you know you’re in deep shit. 

Lucas opens the car door and slams it before driving off, tires squealing against the pavement before he vanishes. Along with that wad of cash that was going to be yours in just a short time. 

Suddenly you’re angry, shoving your hands against his chest to get him away from you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Riley?!” you shriek, shooting him the fiercest glare you could muster.

“I should be askin’ you that,” he sneers, “The hell were you doin’ with that prick?”

“I–”

“Don’t answer that,” he snaps, cutting you off swiftly, “I know what you were doin’. If you needed money that badly you should have told me.”

“It’s not your concern, Simon!” you cry, resisting the urge to petulantly stomp your foot.

You’re so pissed. 

Simon Riley and you went way back, childhood friends. The two of you had always been in each other's lives. Simon especially was always there when you needed him, a beacon of safety and protection. Your best friend and someone you loved to the ends of the Earth. 

But right now, you’re so angry with him that you can’t seem to think straight.

How dare he show up now, when you’re about to do the most humiliating act of your entire life. How could he show his stupid, masked face here when you didn’t even ask for his help in the first place for a reason. 

“You are always my concern,” he shoots back, scarred knuckles turning white from how hard he clenches his fists, “I have always taken care of you. You should have come to me for help instead of puttin’ yourself in danger like this. You didn’t know that guy, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Anger makes your skin hot, sweat beading on your forehead, blocking out the chill that once made goosebumps rise. You feel ashamed that you were caught in this situation – that the man you’ve known your entire life knew you were about to sleep with some random asshole for a fat wad of cash. You don’t like that he’s made you feel ashamed and confronted you with it.

“Just fuck off, Simon!” you shriek, the only thing you can think of before turning on your heel and stalking away from him.

You don’t glance over your shoulder to check if he’s following because you know he most likely is – from a safe distance to make sure you make it inside your apartment alright but far enough that you can’t get mad at him for it. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you feel a headache radiating down your neck. 

By the time you reach your apartment, the anger has simmered and all you’re left with is a festering shame that makes tears fill your eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself and quickly shuffle yourself inside, not bothering to check if Simon is out there or not. All you want is to get a hot shower and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend. 

You do just that, letting the burning hot water scald your skin until you can’t feel any emotions except exhaustion. And then, you crawl into bed and let sleep overtake you without a second thought. 

When you wake up, it’s clear that it’s late into the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and shining painfully bright through the crack in your curtains. You groan and roll over, slapping the bed to find your phone. 

You grab the device and unlock it, taking a moment to scroll through your notifications. There’s some angry messages from the guy from last night – cursing you out for setting him up to be jumped. It makes you roll your eyes before a particular notification catches your eye.

It’s from your bank – alerting you of a deposit. 

You sit up straight in your bed, brows furrowed before your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see your bank statement. It’s more than you needed and you know exactly who was responsible. 

You jump out of bed, not even bothering to dress out of your pajamas before you’re shoving some slides onto your feet and storming out of your apartment. 

You’re so heated that you can’t even remember the walk to Simon’s place, your mind racing a million miles a second. You storm up to the door and slam your fist on it, the hard wood making your hand sting from how hard you pound. 

The radiating tingle of pain is quickly forgotten when the door swings open. 

Simon stands there, looking down at you expectantly. He leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wears an army-issued t-shirt that’s a bit too tight. The sleeves stretch taunt around his biceps and you can make out the swell of his pecs. It’s not very often that you get to see his tattooed arms, littered with scars since he tends to wear long sleeves most of the time. 

He doesn’t look at all surprised to see you, clearly having expected you. The apathetic look in his eyes just solidifies that you were right all along.

“What the hell is your problem?!” you cry without so much as a greeting.

He sighs, broad shoulders rising and falling with it before he opens the door wide and motions you inside. You duck underneath his outstretched arm, turning to watch as he closes the door and locks it. 

He wanders into the kitchen and you realize you can smell bacon. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by your outburst nor does he seem interested in acknowledging your question.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, only solidifying how unperturbed he is by your display of anger. 

“No!” you snap, “I want to know why you did that, Simon!”

He sighs again, much louder but doesn’t respond. You stand in the doorway to his kitchen, watching him plate his lunch – which is actually just breakfast food. He places the dish on the table and pauses, looking up at you.

“You needed the money, I had it,” he offered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I was handling it on my own,” you say, “I-It was my problem to solve.”

“By sellin’ yourself to some prick?” he snarls, the anger he was masking coming out in a flurry.

“I wasn’t selling myself–” you refute but he slams his palms down on the table. His cutlery clatters with the action and you jump.

“I read that post you made,” he hisses, teeth bared, “There’s no fuckin’ reason you should be selling your virginity for some cash when I was right here the whole time!”

Your cheeks burn when he brings up your virginity, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “I-It’s mine to sell if I want to! I needed that money!”

“And now you have it,” he says with finality. 

He takes a seat and you stand there, fuming. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together as your mind races to find a rebuttal. He begins to eat, taking large, fast bites that just shows how he’s been conditioned to eat quickly by the military. 

“That’s not the point, Simon,” you huff, growing less angry and more frustrated by this conversation. You were just going around in circles. 

“Then what is the point?” he snaps, snatching his empty plate and angrily tossing it in the sink. He turns to you again, a frown evident on his face, “You got the money you needed safely. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s too much money, Simon!” you cry, “I was selling something in exchange for it!”

“I care about you,” he says, “That doesn’t matter to me. What’s mine is yours, you know that.”

You silently glare at him, wishing that the heated stare would get through to him. He stands unbothered, staring blankly at you with his fists clenched by his sides.

You hang your head, sighing, “I-I can’t take your money, Simon, alright? I’m already in debt and I’m not going to be in debt to you of all people.”

“You feel like you owe me, is that it?” he asks.

You nod your head, heart rate spiking when he stalks towards you. You’re close enough to smell his body wash and aftershave, a painfully familiar scent that you adore. He stares down his nose at you, brown eyes lidded and lazy. 

He reaches out suddenly, rough hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them together until your lips pucker, “Then give me a kiss as payment.”

“H-Huh?” you whimper dumbly, eyes wide in shock as his face grows closer and closer.

“It can be payment for a kiss, lovie,” he coos, syrupy sweet and soft, “Will that make up for it, then?”

The air in your lungs suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. This is a man that you’ve known almost your entire life so you’ve obviously thought about him in a romantic sense at some point. Hell, when you were a teenager you even had a crush on him. But he never once looked at you any other way than as a friend so you quickly got over it – or maybe that’s just what you told yourself. Because as you stand there, staring into his eyes, you realize that kissing him would feel like a dream come true. 

You find yourself nodding despite the inner turmoil going on in your head. Simon huffs through his nose before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. 

There’s a shock of electricity that goes through you at the contact. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into the kiss, letting him take over. He works his lips expertly against yours, eventually abandoning his hold on your face in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. You gasp into the kiss when he suddenly yanks you closer, your body pressed close against his. 

He’s warm and sturdy against you, a solid form of muscle that makes you feel safe and content – just as he always has. His hands are big and rough as they grip your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he gets lost in kissing you. 

“S-Si,” you find yourself muttering without realizing.

He hums in response, chuckling when you continue to mindlessly kiss him. He pulls back, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, thumbing at your jaw as your eyes slowly focus on him, “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?”

“I-I don’t…” you swallow thickly around the forming lump in your throat, “I don’t know. I just…”

“Show me,” he breathes, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. 

The sweet, tender look in his big, brown eyes is what gives you the courage to grab his wrist, leading it just under the hem of your shirt so he can touch your bare stomach. You give him a shy glance from under your lashes, hoping he’ll get the hint that you want more. 

You want him.

Simon, in all his experienced wisdom, understands immediately what it is you’re aching for. His hand travels up further, pausing at your ribs, just under the swell of your breast. Your heart hammers in your chest when your gaze meets his. His eyes are lidded, long lashes obscuring his pupils but still burning into you. 

He stares deep into your eyes, waiting for any sign of hesitation as his fingers creep higher and higher. You suck in a breath when he cups your breast in his palm, squeezing lightly to feel their weight. 

A large, calloused thumb creeps up, passing ever so softly over your nipple until the bud peaks and hardens under the attention. You sigh at the feeling, new shocks washing over you that you’ve never experienced before. 

Sure, you played with yourself plenty – you had a healthy masturbation life, you’d say. But you’d always just been focused on reaching an orgasm, never on the build up. You imagine, however, it would never feel as good by yourself as it does with him.

He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine, lips parting as the sound escapes. Simon takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your hands grab his shoulders, desperately clinging to his shirt as you lose yourself in the sloppy kiss. 

Drool drips down your chin – it's messy and hot between the two of you. His hand switches to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other. You tremble in his arms, overcome by the insatiable throbbing between your thighs. 

You shift on your feet, the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You’re so wet, wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. By the time he pulls back, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. 

“You want more?” he asks, voice gravelly as he speaks, as if he’s drunk. You nod your head and he clicks his tongue, “You gotta tell me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want more, Si,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit it. 

“Let’s go,” he hums, taking your hand in his as he leads you around the couch towards the hallway.

“Where?” you ask dumbly, hoping that making some kind of conversation would ease the nerves steadily building in your chest. 

“The bedroom,” he responds, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand as if he can sense that you’re nervous, “Wouldn’t want to be stripped down in the middle of the living room, I imagine.”

“N-No,” you squeak, cheeks burning even hotter at those words. 

You’re going to be naked. In front of another person for the first time. In front of him. Simon. 

“There now, lovie,” he whispers as he shuts his bedroom door behind the both of you. He takes your waist in his hands, kneading the soft flesh there, “It’s alright.”

“I-I���m just–”

“Nervous,” he finishes for you, smiling softly when you nod, “I know. We can stop anytime you’d like.”

“I don’t want to,” you rush out, hands coming up to press against his firm chest, “Just…d-don’t be upset when I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The tender way he looks at you sets your heart pounding like a little rabbit. A ghost a smile appears on his lips, “I would never do somethin’ like that.”

“I-I know, I just…” you look down at your feet only for him to catch your chin in his fingers, pulling you to look up at him.

You swallow thickly around the lump in your throat, holding your breath as he descends down. His lips find yours all over again, as exhilarating and mind-melting as the first time. 

Just the sweet, deep kiss he gives you has your nerves dissipating a bit – back to normal levels. You no longer feel the desire to flee, you just feel an intense longing and anticipation. You crave more from him.

As if sensing this, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. He slowly starts to pull it up, agonizingly slow. But you’re grateful for it, it gives you time to prepare before you’re bared completely to him. You lift your arms for him, a sign that you’re still okay with this. 

He pulls it up over your head and lets the fabric drop to the floor. But he doesn’t look down, he continues looking in your eyes, softly pecking your lips as his hands cup your breasts once more. 

When you sigh and lean into his touch, he finally lets himself break the eye contact. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how pretty your tits sit in his hands. He touches them softly, sweetly brushing over your nipples in admiration. 

“Perfect tits, lovie,” he coos, chuckling when you whine in embarrassment. 

His head descends, pink lips parting to take one of your nipples in his mouth. It’s hot but his tongue is soft when it circles and flicks at the bud. He sucks, popping off lewdly before switching to the other one. 

The sensation makes you squeeze your thighs together, imaging what that would feel like around your clit. Your hole clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. The fabric was so wet by now that it couldn’t soak it up anymore, leaving it to slick up your thighs instead.

Your core ached, a feeling only Simon would be able to soothe. 

“Please, Si,” you finally break, whimpering pathetically. 

He detaches from your breast, lips wet and swollen from the worship he had been giving your now sore nipples. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing brown and you were sure that yours looked the same. 

He stands to his full height, nudging you backwards until your knees hit the bed. They buckled at that, leaving you to fall back against the bed. Simon’s bedding was soft, the scent of detergent and his own body wash filling your senses. You relax at the familiar, comforting scent, sinking into the blankets with a bashful smile on your face.

To Simon, you’re an ethereal beauty. You take the air right out of his lungs with the way you look at him.

He remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. He never thought he was deserving of such happiness. But now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you. 

He scooches you up the bed, crawling on after you until he’s on top of you. Though you’re still wearing your pants, you feel so vulnerable beneath his weight. He’s heavy and warm and he smells so good. You can’t focus on anything except for him – he’s all around you and it’s exhilarating. 

Feeling bold, you reach up and tug at his shirt. He pulls it off with ease, revealing his toned, scarred upper body. You can’t help but trace over some of the ones you’re familiar with – there’s one from a time he fell out of a tree trying to rescue a cat that you had been crying about. He fell out of the tree on the way down, a jagged branch stabbing into his upper arm and slicing it open. There was another one from when you were teenagers, some other kids jumped him and he took a stab to his shoulder trying to protect you. You kiss that one and he softens, as if he’s remembering it too. 

He’s always been there for you, an overwhelming presence that you simply couldn’t live without. The fact you’re here, in this bed, about to give him your virginity is something that you never would have expected. 

And to think, you were planning to sell it off to some random loser. 

“I’m glad you stopped me,” you find yourself whispering. 

He looks confused for a second before he hums, nodding in understanding, “I am too.”

“I-I want it to be you, Si,” you whisper, the confession leaving you embarrassed. It’s true, all this time, you realize, he’s all you’ve ever really wanted. You had just buried it deep down so you no longer felt those sparks towards him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers back, as if the two of you are sharing some secret little moment that no one else can hear about even though it’s just the two of you in this room. 

“You always do,” you respond, the words making his dark eyes light up. 

He kisses you deeply, moving his lips slowly against yours. When your hands come up to grip the back of his neck, he takes that as his cue to move down to your neck, then your collarbones, down the center of your chest between your breasts, the spot between your breasts, and finally your navel. 

You lay back, head in his pillows with your hands on either side of your head. You watch him, breathing labored as you wait for his next move. He pauses in his path, looking up through his lashes at you before his fingers find the hem of your sweats. You swallow thickly, holding your breath when he slowly begins to pull the fabric down. You lift your hips to help him, pulling your legs free while being careful not to kick him by accident. 

He keeps his gaze on you until you’re settled back down into the bed and the pants are forgotten on the floor to be collected later. Then, he looks down. 

Even though you still have your panties on, you know that the white cotton is soaked through and hides absolutely nothing from his view. 

You watch as he licks his lips, as if his mouth is suddenly bone dry. His hands are burning hot when he touches you again, sliding over your thighs to your hips. He leans down, pressing his lips against each of your thighs. 

His thumb reaches down, stretches over your pubic bone to touch the sticky fabric. You nearly jump at the sensation – someone’s fingers other than your own touching you there for the first time. Simon’s fingers.

As if he can’t help himself anymore, he tugs the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs. You squeal when you’re jostled under the force. 

He holds the material up and you’re mortified to see just how wet they are. He runs his thumbs over the crotch and you whine, drawing his attention from them. He drops them to the floor and returns his hands back to you, gripping underneath your knees, so he can spread you all the way open. 

Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment at how exposed you are. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a kiss over the top of your hands before moving back down your body. 

You peek through your fingers only to find him already staring at you with a sparkle in his eyes. He carefully spreads your slippery folds apart with his thumbs, the movement causing a wet, sticky sound to emanate from between your legs. The little bud of your clit is hard and twitching as it’s exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. When he’s sure you’re looking he leans down, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. You stop breathing as you watch a fat glob of spit roll down the surface of the smooth muscle and splatter right on your clit. 

“Si-!” your squeal of his name is cut off when your eyes roll back in his head as that sinful tongue slides right over your bud. 

Your whole body twitches at that, hands falling away from your face so you can reach down and grab his hair. It doesn’t even seem like he notices your grip, focused on slurping up that sensitive nub into his hot mouth. 

You choke out a moan, tilting your head back into the pillows as your back arches. It feels just as good as you thought it would when he was giving the same, lewd treatment to your nipples. 

He continues to suck and lick your clit until your mind is completely blank and all you can think is him. Then, all at once it stops and he pulls back, letting your bud slip from the heavenly clutch of his lips.

“You ever have somethin’ inside you, lovie?” he asks, bringing up one of his fingers to swipe through the folds of your entrance, as if to show you what he intends. 

You swallow to moisten your throat before nodding, “J-Just my fingers.”

“How many?” he asks, growing more confident in prodding at the tight little hole. 

“T-Two,” you breathe, any embarrassment you felt long dissipated in the face of true pleasure.

“Alright, lovie,” he hums, “Just lay back, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”

You nod and do as he says, turning utterly boneless against the blankets. The sweat already slicking your skin despite the fact you’ve only just begun makes the fabric stick to you. 

He prods at your entrance for only a second longer before finally, he pushes his thick middle digit inside you. Your cunt is so wet and pliant that it hungrily swallows it up to the very last knuckle. You clench around it intentionally, getting used to the feeling of the foreign finger inside of you for the first time. 

It feels so different compared to your own, thicker and rougher. The sensation is so strange but you can’t say you don’t like it – in fact, it feels amazing. You already want another, feeling like one just isn’t enough to give you that unknown feeling you’re chasing. It’s like you have an itch that needs to be scratched and only Simon can do it for you. 

As if sensing this, ever the reliable one, he carefully introduces a second finger. The stretch is unfamiliar, a burn around your entrance following as he reaches the last knuckle on that one too. His middle and ring finger stuffed snuggly inside your gooey little cunt as you whine and squirm from the feeling. 

Once you’ve adjusted, he slowly begins working them in and out of you. You slick up his fingers easily, streaks of creamy white coating his skin and making his mouth water. When he crooks his fingers up suddenly, prodding at that tender little spot inside of you, your entire body twitches and the most beautiful moan rips from your chest. 

He can’t resist leaning down and trapping your pulsing little clit under the flat of his tongue. He doesn’t slurp it into his mouth like before, instead, he just licks over it, pressing it down with the muscle. Your eyes are rolled up and your mouth hangs open as you moan and moan, tugging mindlessly at his hair as he works you towards your orgasm. 

It grows and grows, the unrelenting pleasure of his fingers fucking deeply into you and his tongue lapping sloppily at your clit like a mutt driving that knot in your belly to tighten. Drool spills out around his tongue, slipping down to meet his fingers where he easily fucks it into you – the added lubrication not needed but so very welcome with how much wetter and messier it makes you. 

“S-Simon…” you pant, gasping to catch your breath as the pleasure makes it hard for you to even think. 

He glances up at you through his lashes but doesn’t offer any other acknowledgement. There’s a knowing look in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to wring this orgasm out of your little cunt whether you like it or not. 

And fuck, do you love it. 

The orgasms you brought yourself in the deep of the night, little hands stuffed down your panties as you played with your clit and stuffed yourself with your own fingers was nothing like what you were experiencing now. Simon’s thick fingers and hot tongue were torturing your little clit until your entire body started to lock up.

You looked at him desperately, unsure what was even going through your mind besides him and how fucking good you felt right now. 

Just as you teetered on the edge of this orgasm, he suddenly changed up and swallowed your twitchy little clit into his mouth. He sucked, sending you flying over the edge with a shrill wail of his name. Your legs kicked and twitched, heels hitting him on the back as you trembled and shook through the orgasm that he eagerly fucked out of you onto his fingers. 

He suckled your clit, swirling his tongue around it until it was too sensitive and you were tearily pushing him away. When he finally released you, slipping his fingers from your cunt, you were boneless and twitching on the bed. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he pulled away, giving him the perfect view to watch your cute little pussy clench and messily drool cum in the aftermath of your orgasm. 

He popped his fingers in his mouth, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering at the taste of your cum tingling on his taste buds. As you came down, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he began pulling at his belt. 

You could hear the metal clinking as he dropped it to the floor, peeking your heavy lids open to see him pull the button of his jeans open. As he slowly pulled them down, his underwear went with and suddenly you were more aware than ever. 

His cock was something to behold. Thick and veiny, bobbing in the air where it hung – too heavy to actually stand upright. You’d seen dicks in porn before but none of them prepared you for Simon’s. Precum dribbled from the tip, creating a long, gooey string down towards the floor before it broke. 

He wrapped a big hand around himself, giving a few good strokes as he reached down to cup his own heavy balls. The hair wasn’t wild or offensive, but neatly trimmed short. 

“All good, lovie?” he asked, stepping out of the pool of his jeans and boxers so he could kneel on the bed again.

“All god-good!” you blushed as he laughed, leaning down over you to balance his weight on his elbows.

“You still want this?” he asks, hushed and sweet, 

You glance between your bodies to see that intimidating cock, drooling messily over your skin. You realize, quickly, that you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

When you voice such, he looks relieved, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He sits back on his heels and spreads your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest.

“Hold them there,” he orders, which you follow immediately. 

Your elbows circle around your knees, holding yourself open for him as he asked. He whistles low in appreciation when your cum-slicked cunt was spread and exposed for him to prod his cockhead against. 

He swipes the tip up and down through your folds, humming appreciatively when your little hole tries to suck him in every time he grazes past it. He nudges your clit, the little bud still hard and sensitive from your orgasm but so eager for more. He couldn’t wait to grant your wish and make you cream on his cock. 

You watch him with wide eyes as he starts to push into you. Your jaw drops as you feel that burning stretch, an ache settling between your legs as he continues to sink himself into you. 

“F-Fuck, wait, Simon!” you squeal and he halts immediately. 

He’s only reached just past the head of his cock but he reaches down to pet your clit. The pleasure shoots through you, making your toes curl and your walls relax around him. He keeps his eyes on your face for any sign that you want him to stop as he moves his hips again. 

More and more of his cock sinks inside and his thumb keeps working little circles over your clit until his hips are flush with yours. Your voice breaks as you moan when you realize you’ve taken every single inch of him. 

He’s heavy and throbbing inside of you and you clench around him intentionally, forcing a moan from his chest. 

He leans down, arranging your knees over his shoulders, folding you up and pressing down on  you. He’s heavy and it makes it hard to breathe but that makes it even better – the pleasure of being speared on that fat cock and being utterly helpless underneath this man is better than any fantasy you could have made for yourself. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, rolling his hips back before rocking them forward again, heavy balls slapping against you as he does, “Can’t believe you were gonna give this little cunt away to some prick.”

“S-Si,” you whimper, biting your lip at the feeling of him slowly and carefully rocking his hips against yours, “‘M sorry, sh-shoulda been you all this time.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hums, “No one else gets to love you but me, sweetheart.”

“O-Only you!” you agree, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits that spot just right. 

He can feel you soaking his cock, drippy cum lathering him up to make every glide of his cock wetter than the last. He sits back up on his knees, adjusting his grip so he can pin your legs wide open, giving him the best view of your greedy cunt swallowing his length up. 

He begins to fuck you in earnest, pulling out halfway before sliding home again - nothing like the little movements he gave you to prepare you. He was going to show you exactly why you should only think of giving him this precious pussy for the rest of your life. No one will ever be able to fuck you as good as he can, he’s going to learn your body like the back of your hand and you’re never going to be able to cum as hard as you can with him. You’ll never even want to use your own fingers again when he’s done with you. 

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, take the pleasure and take his cock. He hits so deep, prodding at your cervix in a way that aches but it only feels that much better when it’s mixed with mind-numbing pleasure. 

Simon looms above you, panting and groaning as he fucks you like he was made to. He angles his hips just right, blunt nails biting into your thighs where he pins you open, neither of you caring if he happens to break skin while he does. You don’t even register the bite of pain underneath the way his cock prods you g-spot so perfectly. 

Your own fingers would have been tired by now, no longer able to work that little spot like you need. Simon’s cock, however, is unrelenting. The pleasure builds and mounts uninterrupted, every stroke of his length sending you higher. His body moves fluidly, rolling his hips tirelessly so he can give you every ounce of pleasure your sweet little cunt needs. 

You’re creaming around him, a frothy, milky ring forming around the base every time he sinks in and becoming visible when he pulls back. It’s filthy and messy and makes your cheeks burn but Simon seems to not mind in the slightest.

“So fuckin’ messy, love,” he coos, breathy and slurred, “Look at that, pretty cunt needed some cock, huh?”

“Y-Yours!” you manage to choke out.

“What’s that?” he asks, a crooked, teasing grin on his face. 

“Y-Your cock! Only needed your cock, Simon,” you pant, reaching up to grope your own tits, pinching and rolling your nipples meanly. It hurts so good, making you clench around his cock. He moans at the sight, his pretty little virgin tormenting your own nipples.

“That’s right,” he hums, reaching a shaky hand down to thumb at your clit, “Keep pinchin’ those pretty tits, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

You nod your head, unable to form a vocal response from the new sensation of your clit being played with while he fucks you. It feels so damn good that you could go drunk from it all. Everything in your brain is slow, thoughts of only him and how good you feel are all that’s there. Your entire world, right at this moment, revolves around Simon Riley. 

He knows it too, a cocky grin on his face as he works you to your orgasm. You dangle, almost helplessly, staring unblinkingly at his handsome face as he works it out of you. 

After what feels like minutes, but is probably only seconds, you cum. Hard.

Your head slams back against the pillows, back arching as you cunt clasps tight around him. You cry out in pure, unadulterated pleasure as he fucks you through it. His thumb keeps working your clit as it twitches and pulses under the digit, cumming nice and pretty for him just like he wanted. Just like you deserved. 

You cream his cock messily, it drips down his balls and down your ass to the bedding below. So fucking sloppy and wet, a perfect little cunt made to take his cock. 

His brows furrow, mouth falling open as his own orgasm mounts and builds. Now that your well-earned orgasm is out of the way, he can finally let go and allow himself to experience it as well.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out, teeth clenched from the ache of holding back.

His balls draw up, heavy and full. He feels ready to positively explode when you gasp, “I-Inside!”

His head falls back, the loudest, most drawn out moan you’d never expected to come from a stoic man like Simon falling from his lips. It’s deep and primal, full of nothing but euphoria as he spills into you. His load is hot and thick, drooling out of the sides of his cock as he slows his thrusts to milk the least bits of pleasure from the orgasm. 

When he comes down, he collapses. Your legs lock around his waist and he draws you tightly into his arms, neither of you caring for the way his weight crushes you. All you care about is being wrapped up in his arms where you belong. 

He pulls his neck from your chest and kisses your forehead. Then he kisses your nose. Then your lips. 

“Pretty,” he breathes, still drunk on the endorphins of the sex so his lips are a little looser than they’d normally be, “Always thought you were pretty.”

“Really?” you prompt, cheeks heating at his confession. 

He hums, “Glad you’re finally mine.”

You beam, “No one deserved me as much as you.”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, rolling off of you with a sigh. His cock unplugs your cunt and a gush of your mixed cum comes out, making you whine. He laughs softly, drawing you back into your arms. 

You’ve never felt safer and warmer in your life, knowing in that moment that you should have come to Simon all along. There’s no one in the world who would be there for you, more willing and able than he. 

this work belongs to rowarn. do not repost to third party websites or use for character ai. reblogs welcome and appreciated!

[strangeangel22]

i love being transgender i love doing my silly little t shot every week i am so proud of who i am and what ive done to get to where i am now I LOVE BEING TRANS!!!1!!!1!😸😸😸

[inkskinned]

it's because the bear wouldn't kill me just for being a woman. the bear doesn't kill me for fun. the bear can be shouted at, and will leave me alone. the bear won't make a tiktok complaining about how i crossed to the other side of the path when i saw him coming. if a bear kills me, it's just being a bear: it cannot understand logic. it is not acting out of malice - just fear or hunger.

bell hooks once wrote about how porches might be the only outside space left for women - it is still the domain of the house while it is also outside-but-safe. when i am in the woods, i am in the bear's home, and he has a right to defend his property. outside spaces - anywhere at night, certain parks in the day - those are often implicitly "owned" by men. i cannot explain the feeling of knowing when you have entered a man's "territory." you walk into a place and just know you are in their space. you get a sick sense - you're in danger.

the other day a group of about 8 men were fooling around in the woods while i walked my dog. i had to go around, take the extra 3 miles just to avoid them. it's okay, i like walking. this wasn't even a #feminism moment. it was just a tuesday.

what a plain and easy question. only one of the situations is seen as a tragic accident. i would rather die and have a park bench erected in my honor rather than have my family questioned about why they let me, an adult, walk in the woods in the first place when i should really be at home in the kitchen.

i worked in retail and food service. i have had women say and do absolutely heinous and abusive things to me - not because i was a woman, but because i was there, and they were angry. the way men treated me when angry was different - it was because i was a woman. you can always feel the difference, how there's an undertone of i'd hurt you worse if i could get away with it. i keep seeing people try to cite stupid statistics. why is there always a strange rage whenever women agree on things? like men can argue their way out of our lived experiences? it isn't a buzzfeed quiz - which of these traumas are you? 10 super cute ways not to fear strange men.

i have actually (thrice!) seen a bear in the wild, by the way. i died each time, obviously, and am a ghost writing to you. (it was scary but completely and utterly fine). the second encounter was a black bear with her cub. she looked at me like - do we have to do this or are we good? my dog was busy sniffing a bush, completely nonreactive. i felt like i was in a sitcom: feminist poet reacts - does she actually mean she'd choose the bear? my only thought was - she's so beautiful. her paws are massive.

and there's a part of me that feels the rage spinning out in a corner. why do we have to come up with quippy little comments in order to teach men empathy. would you rather die in a car accident or due to a mugging? and would you rather your house burn down due to an electrical fire or due to arson? gee willikers - it's almost like we're human people, and want to risk the accident versus the intention.

i would rather my last thought be oh shit, a bear rather than i'm a person too. why doesn't that matter? why don't you care?