#just been having a slow week in terms of productivity

[coloursofaparadox]

i finally got my adhd med dosage worked out and also for like the first time since upping the dosage actually managed to take it consistently long enough for it to actually kick in over the last few weeks and god damn. that shit is magic.

[queers-gambit]

Affirmation King

prompt: ( requested ) attending university as a full-time student is hard, but your boyfriend makes some of the stress worth it.

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 3.1k+

note: author gives unsolicited advice in the form of sharing a citation website to make college essays a little easier! this is not meant as promotion or anything, it's just your author trying to share a resource they know of.

warnings: cursing, small hurt large comfort (reader snaps a little at Carmy but he handles it like a fucking pro), author gives unsolicited college advice in the form of a recommended website, reader is in a masters program and not undergrad, fluff.

The 16 inch screen glared into your retinas, fingers feeling numb from the hours pounding away at the loose keyboard. When the screen started to warble and darken, your head ducked down slightly to try and preserve your visual; glaring up at the offender when they pressed the screen closed after forcing you to retract your hands.

"You're cute and all, but not so cute as to interrupt me like that," you deadpanned, eyes wide and burning from your lack of lubrication via blinking.

"You've been sat here for hours, it's time for a break."

"Funny when I say that to you, it's always, 'Get outta my kitchen.'"

Carmy smirked, "Come eat something."

"Let me finish this essay and - "

"No, it's time for a meal."

You felt your irritation spike, narrowing your eyes slightly, "I'm on a deadline, Carmen, so either be fucking helpful and productive or get the fuck out of my space. I've got work to do and you're just slowing me down."

He offered a patient look, asking, "Is that what you really wanted to say?"

You paused, then shook your head, "No... May I try again?"

"Of course," he nodded.

"I appreciate you trying to... Alleviate some of my stress," you spoke slowly, stringing the sentence together in realtime, "but this project isn't something I can ignore right now, so, I'd like to finish this thing before we do whatever else."

"Better," he teased, knowing you ran a short fuse when stressed out and overworked. "What's got you riled up?"

"I have this 20-page paper due."

"20 pages!?"

"It's not that bad, honestly, once you have your thesis together," you chuckled dryly. "it's just time consuming and meticulous."

He frowned and stepped forward to press a kiss to your forehead, mocking in a sarcastic tone, "You're doing amazing, sweetie."

"I'm so tired," you pouted up at him. "Do I really need this degree? This is so much stress for such a little thing such as a piece of paper that cost me $50k just to say I'm allowed to join the work force."

"Hey, hey," he laughed. "Just remember what you're working towards. You're one assignment closer to your internship turning into a full-time gig, right?"

You nodded, "You're right. I want that job so bad... I just hate how busy I feel - it's like, how can I remember to eat let alone write 6 different response posts to my classmate's work?"

Carmy nodded with empathy, "Just remember that end goal, baby. Keep grinding, keep moving. Almost at the finish line, right?"

"Right," you nodded with a smile. "Thank you, angel face."

Carmy smiled at you before softly asking, "Want me to bring you anything? Something to eat, drink, a condom?"

"Stop quoting Mean Girls at me!"

His hands shot up in defense, deflecting, "I was just trying to be a gracious host. If the missus wants anything, I'll make sure she has it."

"Pretty sure 'missus' is a term used for wives - " His groan made you laugh lightly, then covering, "No, thank you, baby, I'm okay. I should only be about another hour or so...?"

"All right, yeah, sure. I'll start dinner in 30, okay?"

"Sure," you smiled, already distracted again as you lifted your screen again to stare at the Word document that had been haunting your hard-drive for about 3 weeks now.

"Hey," he interrupted, "don't forget your glasses."

"Thank you," you mumbled, reaching for the special, blue-light filtering glasses Carmy had gifted you when you first started your Master's program. He claimed staring at a computer screen was going to cause long-term damage (he read an article) and got you a pair, which, you had to admit, made a huge difference.

Your hair was raked into a new bun as you reread the last of your essay, trying to get back in the academic mindset in order to finish the last bit of your assignment. There were textbooks spewed around your work table; laptop plugged in, highlighters and pens and notebooks within reach and a nearly-finished bottle of water was set to the side. You wrote ferociously once you got back on the right mental track, feeling your headache stir to life as you blindly reached for your water bottle.

However, when you picked it up, you blinked in mild shock when the bottle was heavier than before. Glancing over, you realized Carmy had replaced the bottle because there, under where it had sat, he left you a handwritten note:

replenish what you lost from crying!

You chuckled, knowing you were a stress cryer and when tackling big assignments like this, you were ten times as stressed as usual. Still you worked, even putting your headphones on to play soothing background noise - like rainfall. Your neck cramped, back ached, temples throbbed, and hands were cramping. Still you worked, using sticky notes to flag the important quotes you wanted to use from your textbooks and notebooks. Your stomach growled, your eyes begged for reprieve, chest felt tight, and shoulders were too tense.

Still. You. Worked.

Deadlines were important to you, and while you were a professional procrastinator, you always turned everything in on time - no matter your mental state. You could smell whatever Carmy had started cooking, focused on writing as you only used spellcheck as you went - and still you worked. You knew you surpassed the hour limit you told Carmy, but you couldn't stop, you were so close to finishing, it almost put tears back in your eyes, but this time out of relief. You only paused to look at online sources and apply chapstick, cracking your tightly-wound knuckles, and when you finished the last body paragraph of the essay, grinned to yourself.

All that was left was your conclusion, to create a bibliography, and to edit - but you were almost home free!

Suddenly, you jumped in fright when a hand planted on your shoulder; whipping around to see your boyfriend's own startled expression. "Sorry," Carmy apologized with a wince when you removed your headphones, "didn't mean to scare you, just wanted to check on you."

You nodded, 'Yeah, no, I'm almost done. Like give me 20 minutes, almost done-almost done."

He smiled softly, "Dinner's ready when you are."

"I'll be there soon, thank you, angel face."

"Can I help with anything?"

"Uh," you cocked your head, "you know what? Maaaaybe..."

"Really?" He grinned, perking up. "You never let me help!"

"It's not really work, per se," you amended, "but would you mind letting me read this out loud to you - see if it makes sense? The mark of a good writer is to act as if the audience knows nothing about the subject and make them understand, and you're exactly that."

"Lemme hear it," he nodded, taking a seat, "I might not be much help but I can still try."

You agreed and finished typing the outline of your conclusion, then scrolled to the top of your word document, and explained to him what your class was before starting to read. He listened intently, sitting on a spare stool with his elbows resting on his knees; keeping him leaned forward to provide his undivided attention. You managed to reword a few sentences, only noticing they didn't make sense when you read them out loud. Once or twice, Carmy even offered an alternative phrasing you liked - making the changes and rereading, then continuing through your assignment.

By the end, you were able to beef up the conclusion and Carmy was grinning at you in pride. "That's real good, baby," he complimented, "it all made sense and rolled nice together. I think that has to be an 'A'-worthy paper."

"You should be the one grading theses, my professor's the worst," you frowned. "It's why I got so in my head, I got a fucking 76 on my last essay and need to do really well on the next few to help average my grade."

"What about the tests?"

"We don't have any, this class is all about writing material and turning it in," you pouted.

"Hey," he spoke seriously, making you look at him in question, "I'm really proud of you."

You giggled nervously, "Oh, yeah? Why? What for?"

"For doing this," he nodded to the desk. "Look at all you're doing, baby, there's no way I'd ever be able to keep up with this kinda shit. You're doing such a great fucking job - I want you to remember that. What you're doing ain't easy, but you're handling this like a pro."

"I cry, like, everyday..."

"So what? You still get shit done while emoting - call that multitasking, baby."

"Got me there."

"Seriously, though, you're not told enough what a fantastic job you're doing; how strong and resilient you have to be to deal with this kind of stress day-in and day-out. I see the hard work you put in," he promised, "and I want you to know how fucking proud I am of you. It's all gonna be worth it one day, but until then, I love watching you grind through school. I might not take the classes with you, but I'll help however I can, whenever I can."

"Thank you," you whispered. "It's really nice to hear... I feel myself burning out and it's nice to be reminded that what I do now will influence my future. Validates me in feeling stressed out, you know? Sometimes, I feel silly 'cause, like, there's so many bigger things to be upset about and here I am, stressed out at a place that's guaranteed to stress me out..."

"It's not silly, it's normal. College ain't easy," he reminded, "and you're just trying to keep yourself afloat."

"Yeah, but there's bigger things in life than something trivial as my education."

Carmy scoffed at you, shaking his head, "Ain't no way."

"What?"

"My girl just said her feelings are trivial... Nah, she said her emotions about her education is trivial," he shook his head again. "Should wash your mouth out with soap - talkin' crazy like that. Baby, you know, first and foremost, your education is high on our priorities list, but your emotions? You think they're trivial? Nah, if anything causes you to have any emotion, it's valid - it's not something silly or redundant."

You pouted slightly, "You always know what to say."

"Hungry?"

"You're the perfect man," you laughed, looking at your document again and humming. "Okay, so, lemme just cite my sources and turn this in."

"Then you wanna have date night?" He smirked.

"No, no, I'm so tired - "

"I meant we can stay in."

"Oh, then count me in!"

"Change into something cozy when you're done, we can watch a movie with dinner. Yeah?"

You agreed, accepted his kiss of encouragement, and then took his leave to reheat the dinner that had surely cooled off. It didn't take long to cite everything when you used an online citation source website - that IS N O T plagiarizing! It's a handy-dandy tool you discovered your undergraduate freshman year by an actual professor. It was as simple as choosing which style, APA or MLA, and then to either paste the URL of the website you need sourced or you type in the book's information. Hit the generate button and BAM! A perfect citation for your bibliography every single time.

Or if you didn't like that, you could always just Google citation examples and do your best to write it out yourself. But the website, Citation Machine dot net, was a great tool. After perfecting your in-text citations and saving your work, you uploaded it to your university's assignment portal, crossed the essay off your to-do list, and stretched on your feet.

Cleaning up your space minimally, you hustled to your bedroom to get a quick hot, relieving shower, change, and then met Carmy in the kitchen. "Hey," you sighed with a soft smile.

"Hey, doll. All done?"

"For tonight," you groaned, "but tomorrow's a new day with new assignments."

"That's a future problem we'll handle at a later time," he eased, showing you your dinner plate. "Ta-daaaa!"

You grinned, "Oh, baby, this looks amazing!"

"Yeah, well, I kinda figured as a full-time student right now, nobody was gonna remind you what incredible job you're doing, so, I'm more than happy to step up to the plate. And what better treat than your favorite meal, huh?"

"Thank you," you whispered, pecking his lips.

You often thought his love language was "food", but then you realized it was technically under the acts of service and quality time. He loved cooking for you - it was like a gift. He loved cooking with you - it was time spent bonding. He loved introducing you to new dishes - it's a present! He loved when you let him give you a culinary lesson - it was time well spent.

"C'mon," Carmy lead you to the living room, both crashing on the couch you had been gifted from your grandmother's house when she was put in a nursing home. Normally, you wouldn't have splurged on something like this, but considering it was free, you and Carmy were happy to use it. Settling together on the couch, you got cozy under a shared blanket and Carmy flicked some movie on for background noise, but instead of watching, he just asked you about your coursework.

You told him what you could, shaking your head and huffing about how annoying your program was. How hectic. How jam packed and fast-paced it all seemed to be. How your head felt like it was spinning. How you couldn't nail down workable coping mechanisms and just felt totally out of control. You were spiraling.

You needed this rant session.

Carmy listened intently.

He never once tried to say, "oh, but if you had time management," or anything like, "if you do THIS instead..." or some bullshit, "my way works better." His bright and wide blue eyes watched you the entire time, sighing when you got to the end of your meal and vent session.

"It just feels like, I turn in one assignment, I get three more right after. Turn in those three, and all of a sudden, there's another 10!"

"Does the syllabus say anything about that?" He wondered.

"No, it just said what our reading schedules were and when major assignments are due. But those dates all got shuffled around that it feels like a train wreck. You know, if the original schedule was kept from the syllabus, I wouldn't feel so worked up! It's the rearrangement and added assignments without warning that's throwing me off."

"That doesn't sound easy," he validated. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No, you're doing more than enough," you whispered, pecking his lips. "Thank you for dinner."

"I made dessert, too."

"No!" You gasped with a grin.

"Mhm - wait here. I'll grab it."

"Wow, dinner, movie, and dessert?" You teased, "I'm being spoiled tonight."

"You've been working your ass off for weeks now," he smirked, standing from his seat to pick up your plates, "this is the least I could do. I know I said it, but you know how good a job you're doing, right? Damn, baby," he chuckled, "ain't no way I could ever handle shit like that on the regular."

"I could't do what you do, either."

"We all balance our crazy different. Want some tea? Wine?"

"Tea would be great."

"Comin' up."

When Carmy returned, you pulled the blanket back to let him sit again with the dessert plate between you both; two steaming mugs of tea sat on the coffee table. "What's this?" You wondered, seeing a sort of pastry.

"Marcus told me 'bout this," he chuckled. "Kinda like a poor man's version of this one thing he makes. So, look, it's Pillsbury Crescent Rolls, right? In the middle, there's raspberry preserves - or jam if you want that instead. It's baked then drizzled in melted white chocolate."

"Wow, you got all fancy on me," you beamed.

"Hardly, more like I was a little impulsive after hearing your essay. Figured you could use some dessert - you really earned it, baby. You always earn dessert," he grinned, "but tonight, you were kickass. Know that? Hear me?"

You shook your head, "This is nothing compared - "

"Hey, hey, nah," he interrupted, "nah, nah, don't do that, don't try to invalidate or downplay yourself. Look, shit is always hard in college, right? But you handle it so well, I can see the work you're putting in and the little reward you receive in return, and know that shit's gotta add up for you. But my baby just keeps cool, does her work, and does what she can to earn the grades she does. Right?"

"I mean, I try to..."

"You succeed. C'mon, lemme hear you say it. 'I kick college's ass.'"

"I kick college's ass."

"'I work hard.'"

"Carmy - "

"Saaay it!"

You huffed, "I work hard."

"'I'm an incredible hard worker.'"

"I'm an incredible hard worker."

"'I am only human.'"

Another breath in, repeating, "I am only human."

"'I am a success.'"

"I try to be a success."

"That wasn't the quote."

"Well, I don't know if I'm succeeding because grades aren't finalized yet and I have - "

"No, no, no," he smirked again, "you're still successful 'cause you're doing such a kickass job. You could get a fucking 'D' on something, and guess what? You're still successful 'cause you don't let this tear you down, you learn from mistakes and apply whatever lessons you learn to your upcoming assignments. Some people say you might even learn more from losing and failing than from undisputed success. Look, I'll be honest, I thought my job was hectic as shit, but hearing your essay tonight? Goddamn, you're not just beautiful, but so fucking intelligent, too. Baby, I was shook - that sounded like some academic paper that college kids need to defend their thesis or some shit. Something scholarly, not some assignment you gotta hand in by a deadline so you just wrote down whatever. So, give yourself credit and tell yourself you're a success."

With a long, deep breath, you answered earnestly, "I'm a success."

"Good girl," he muttered, handing you a fork finally. However, unlike Mikey all those years ago, you didn't launch your utensil at anyone and used it to cut off a corner of pastry.

You moaned when you tasted the gooey goodness. You managed through a mouthful, "Mmhhh! Mhm! Mhm! If you make this every time I have some assignment pissing me off and stressing me out, I'm afraid I'll get used to this treatment."

Carmy grinned, "You deserve whatever dessert you want, whenever you want. Huh? Yeah? Lemme hear you say it."

With another grin, you mused, "I deserve whatever I want, when I want it... And however I want it!"

"Atta girl!"

"You're so fucking corny," you laughed lightly, feeling as if you were falling in love with him again, "but thank you, my Affirmation King."

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

[nikrouz]

"Muse with Aquamarine Scales" (Full Comic) 28-page long self contained comic about a bird who started seeing flying fish

Oops, reached the limit of images per post with the last page. Guess i'll have to add Afterword in text form: Been a while since I've done something in comic form. So yeah, initially "Muse" started out as a self-proposed challenge to do a short comic story within 2 weeks of production. Not 2 weeks straight, just a total of 2 weeks' worth of free days, majority of which I could spend on it. And as far as writing and storyboarding got, I didn't really have much problem with that, finishing up both at around a week. I already sketched down character designs and had a story structure ready from the conceptual step of the process. But as I moved on to sketching, I slowed down my work on it paradoxically enough 'cause i didn't want to waste any free days I had when I felt like I wouldn't do much progress with, so those days wouldn't count to the arbitrary 2 weeks limit I gave myself. The limit being my way of trying to handle my perfectionism issues, going with more concept-arty quality than properly cleaned arts. And even then, in the end I ended up having some specific parts cleaned up, such as the final page. Easy to say that I failed my challenge in terms of the rules I gave myself, firstly I extended production time to 3 and then 4 weeks and around week 3 when I was around halfway into finishing the comic, I lost count of how many days I've given to the production of it. And don't get me wrong, I'm glad I gave more time and attention to a story which I was interested to write for a while now, had this idea for years. Don't think I've ever been as excited when finishing work on a comic before. This was an enjoyable rest from the exhaustive production of ELoNR's second chapter. Thanks for giving it a read. Hope I'll still be around to do more Started work: Somewhere near the start of 2024 Finished: 7th of July 2024 Proofreaders: Rudra and Joshua C. Pipkins

[jetii]

Roy. My love. Bestie.

I saw a tag that there was Obi Wan smut in Event Horizon but you deleted it cause it wasn’t relevant to the plot

…*deep inhale*

Can we get

Perhaps

If you’re willing

Maybe

Please?

A deleted scenes bit? 👀👀

Ahh okay so I was hesitant to post this bc I didn't want to give the wrong impression about their relationship and my planned end game. I went back and edited a few things, clarified some other things a few days ago. Decided to post this now as a treat since neither Obi-Wan or Rex appear in this week's chapter. 💙

Even though I ultimately decided to leave this chapter out, it is "canon" and takes place between chapters five and six.

Event Horizon

Interlude: Remember to Lock the Door

Words: 6,189

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, friends with benefits, Force bonds, smut, masturbation, rough sex, cum play, inappropriate use of the Force?, i would not call this a healthy relationship

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

It's been months since the fight, and you and Obi-Wan have never been closer. The bond between you has strengthened, and the trust has returned, the years of resentment and pain fading away day by day.

The two of you have worked through the issues that led to the rift between you and have rebuilt the relationship into something new, something deeper and stronger than it was before. You've been meditating more, trying to find balance, and while it's not easy, you're slowly learning to control the tumultuous emotions that have plagued you.

And, perhaps most importantly, the two of you have finally made amends.

As the months go by, you spend more and more time together, and it feels like no time has passed at all. You spar, and talk, and laugh, and it's almost as if the last few years never happened. On the battlefield, you move as one, the bond between you allowing you to anticipate and react to each other's movements without a second thought.

There's still a part of you that resents the Council for not believing you, for your fellow Jedi for turning their backs on you, but Obi-Wan has been there for you, helping you to process the emotions and come to terms with the pain and loss. And while it's not easy, you're working on it, one day at a time.

You still have nightmares, and the anger is never far from the surface, but you're learning to deal with them and channel the negative emotions into something productive. It's what you're attempting to do now as you sit in your quarters, your eyes closed and your mind focused on the Force.

You can feel the darkness within you, the rage and the hatred, and you're trying to find a way to balance them with the light, to bring the two into harmony. You've been at it for hours, and while the progress is slow, you can feel yourself getting closer. It's exhausting work, and you're starting to flag, but you press on, determined to make some progress.

Just as you're about to give up, there's a knock at your door. You groan, annoyed, but rise to your feet and make your way to the entrance. As soon as you draw nearer, you feel a rush of familiar energy, and a smile spreads across your face.

You open the door, and Obi-Wan's blue eyes sparkle with mischief, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

"You didn't tell me you were back," you say by way of greeting, your tone light.

Obi-Wan shrugs, the movement exaggerated, and his voice is dripping with sarcasm when he dips his head toward you.

"Well, I wanted to surprise you," he teases. "Since you've been so busy with...what, exactly?"

He gestures at the room behind you, and you blush, realizing how much of a mess it is. There are sheets of flimsi and holopads strewn about, and your cloak is crumpled in the corner, your boots lying haphazardly by the door. You look up at him, and the laughter bubbles inside you, the frustration and exhaustion melting away.

"Oh, stop it," you say, and Obi-Wan chuckles. "You know I've been working."

"Yes, I can see that," he replies. "Working yourself to death, apparently."

You roll your eyes, but the smile stays on your lips. You're glad he's here, glad he's teasing you, and it's a welcome distraction from the heaviness that's been weighing on you.

"Something like that," you admit. "How was Christophsis?"

"You'll be pleased to know we won," Obi-Wan says dryly. He casts a look down either side of the long hallway, then, finding no one, he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The pose is casual, relaxed, and he gives you a crooked grin. "But I didn't come here to discuss strategy."

"Ah." You smirk, mirroring his pose, and raise an eyebrow. "What, then, brought you to my door at such a late hour, Master Kenobi?"

He huffs a laugh. "I think you already know the answer to that."

"Perhaps. But I think I'd like to hear you say it," you tease, a playful glint in your eye.

"Very well." 

He sighs, feigning exasperation, but the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile. Obi-Wan steps forward, close enough to reach out and tuck your hair behind your ear. His hand lingers on the side of your face, and he lets the back of his fingers trace a gentle path down your neck. 

"I missed you, and I wanted to see you,” he murmurs.

"That's sweet," you murmur. Your gaze flickers up to meet his, and you take hold of the front of his tunic, tugging him through the door. "Now get in here. We can't have your fellow Council members seeing you visiting me at this hour. They'll start to think I'm corrupting their precious poster boy."

Obi-Wan snorts, his eyes rolling, but he follows you inside without protest, the door sliding shut behind him. He engages the lock, just in case, and turns back to you, finding you standing a few feet away wearing a coy smile.

"I did miss you, you know," Obi-Wan admits, walking towards you. He slides his robes off his shoulders, letting them fall to the floor in a puddle. "Very much, actually. We could've used your expertise. There were times when Anakin's tactics were..." He waves a hand, searching for the right word. "Unconventional, at best."

"So, the usual, then?"

"The usual," he confirms.

His eyes trail over your form, and his expression softens. You know the circles under your eyes must be dark, the fatigue etched into the lines of your face. He reaches out, running his fingers down your arm.

"You've been overworking yourself again, haven't you?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"I suppose," you shrug. "But I've made some progress. I think I'm getting better."

Obi-Wan nods, and the concern in his eyes is touching. "I'm glad to hear that."

You nod, and his fingers trace back up your arm, over your shoulder, and to your face, tilting your chin up. He searches your eyes, his gaze lingering on the shadows beneath.

"Are you sleeping?"

You shrug again, not meeting his eyes. "Sometimes. Not as much as I should."

"And eating?"

"Obi-Wan," you say, rolling your eyes. "I'm fine. I promise."

He frowns, but doesn't push the issue. Instead, he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"If you say so," he says, pulling back. He glances around the room, taking in the chaos, and shakes his head. "Do you think you could possibly clear some space? If I recall, there are a few chairs in here somewhere, though I'll admit it's hard to tell."

"Hilarious," you deadpan. You step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him. "But I have a better idea."

Obi-Wan smiles, and his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer.

"I'm listening," he says.

"Well, since I haven't seen you in weeks," you say, trailing a hand down his chest. "I think we should skip the pleasantries and just go straight to the good stuff."

"That sounds like a plan," Obi-Wan murmurs. His lips are only a hair's breadth from yours, his breath warm on your skin. "And just what might that entail, exactly?"

"Oh, you know." Your hand travels lower, sliding down his abdomen. "I was thinking a bit of this." You grab the hem of his tunic, tugging it upward. "A bit of that."

"I'm listening," he repeats, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

You slide his tunic over his head, exposing his muscled torso. Your fingers roam across his smooth skin, and his breath hitches, his eyes closing. He leans into your touch, and his lips ghost along your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm going to need a little more information," Obi-Wan murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You tilt your head, offering him better access. Your hands move down his stomach, slipping into the waistband of his trousers. You grin when he sucks in a breath, and your fingers brush his growing arousal, eliciting a soft groan.

"Is that what you had in mind?" you whisper, your voice husky.

"Not quite." Obi-Wan's eyes crack open, and they're hooded with desire. He presses a kiss to the spot behind your ear, his lips trailing down the side of your neck. "Keep going."

You chuckle, and your grip on him tightens, eliciting another gasp. You run your thumb over the tip of his length, and he shudders, his hips bucking.

"More," he says, his voice strained.

"You want me to keep talking?"

"No, no," he groans, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "I want you to show me."

You pull your hands out of his pants, and he sighs at the loss. You turn your back to him and move toward the bed, pulling your own shirt over your head. Your breasts are bared to the cool air, and the sound of his sharp intake of breath makes you smirk.

You look over your shoulder, and his eyes are dark with desire, his gaze roaming over your exposed skin.

"What, no quips this time?" you ask, feigning innocence.

"I'm afraid not," Obi-Wan murmurs.  "I think I'll leave the talking to you."

You chuckle, and begin unbuttoning your trousers, swaying your hips a bit more than necessary. You kick the fabric off and then turn around, your fingers trailing over the curve of your breast. Obi-Wan's eyes follow the movement, his pupils dilated, and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips.

“Are you going to join me, or are you just going to stand there and watch?"

Obi-Wan takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his gaze roaming over every inch of exposed skin.

“I rather like the view from here, actually."

You scoff and turn away, feigning annoyance. As soon as you're sure he can't see, you let a mischievous grin spread across your lips. You slide your hands over your stomach, dipping into the waistband of your underwear, and slide them down your thighs. You glance over your shoulder, and his gaze is fixed on your exposed skin, his cheeks flushed, and his mouth slightly agape.

"Then enjoy it,” you tease, bending over and sliding your underwear off.

He groans, and the sound sends a shiver of anticipation through you. You lie back on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows, and spread your legs. Without breaking eye contact, you let your fingers wander down, slipping between the slick folds.

You moan as your finger circles your clit, the pleasure coiling inside you. Obi-Wan swallows, his gaze fixed on your hand, and he starts to undo his pants. You can't help the smug grin that spreads across your lips, and you pick up the pace, your breath coming in short gasps.

"This is what you want to see, isn't it?" you ask, arching your back and pushing two fingers inside yourself.

Obi-Wan is struggling to undress, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. His gaze darts between you and the task at hand, and you can see the frustration building, his patience wearing thin.

"Stop that," he growls.

"Why? Am I distracting you?"

"Yes."

He finally manages to free himself, and his erection springs free, hard and flushed with blood. He steps forward, kicking his boots off, and moves towards the bed. You bite back a moan, the sight of him, bare and ready, making your heart race.

Obi-Wan crawls onto the bed, his eyes locked with yours. You feel the anticipation building, the pressure coiling low in your stomach, and you can’t help but grind your hips down, trying to relieve the ache.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your fingers out, and the whimper that escapes you makes him grin. He pins your arm to the bed, his other hand gripping your thigh.

"I thought I told you to stop that," he murmurs.

"You did." You smirk, your free hand tracing up his stomach. "I didn't listen."

Obi-Wan huffs, and his grip on your thigh tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He moves between your legs, and his erection brushes against your entrance, the head teasing you. You let out a soft moan, and your hips rock forward, desperate for more.

He chuckles, and he moves closer, his lips ghosting over yours. He doesn’t kiss you though, a boundary the two of you agreed on years ago. One of the few things the two of you didn't share, even back then.

"You're insufferable," he breathes, the words a whisper against your skin.

"And yet, you're here," you murmur.

He groans, and his eyes flutter closed, his nose brushing against yours.

"Corruption, indeed."

You laugh, and the sound seems to break the last of his restraint. He thrusts inside you in one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden intrusion, the sudden stretch, makes you gasp, and the pleasure washes over you, the heat of his body sending sparks flying.

"Fuck, Obi-Wan," you pant, your eyes squeezing shut.

"What was that?" He pauses, waiting for you to open your eyes. "I'm sorry, did you have something to say?"

"No," you say, shaking your head.

"Are you sure?" he teases, and his lips brush the corner of your mouth.

"Just fuck me, please," you whine, trying to roll your hips, desperate for more. He doesn't let you, though, his grip on your leg keeping you in place.

He chuckles, and pulls back, just enough for the tip to catch on the edge of your entrance. The anticipation is driving you crazy, the aching emptiness making you groan. You open your eyes, and his gaze locks with yours, his expression playful, and teasing.

"Obi-Wan, please.”

He doesn't respond, his gaze still fixed on yours, and you're about to beg him again when he finally thrusts forward, filling you completely in one swift motion. The force of his movement rocks the bed, the metal frame squeaking in protest, and your body arches, the pleasure overwhelming.

"Like that?" he asks, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his lips despite the innocence of his tone.

"Don't be smug," you breathe.

"Me? Never."

You scoff, and the sound dissolves into a groan as he rolls his hips, the angle sending stars across your vision.

Obi-Wan begins moving in earnest, setting a slow, familiar pace. His hands move to your waist, holding you steady, and his grip is strong, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. He moves inside you, his movements languid and deliberate, each thrust drawing out a soft gasp.

The pleasure builds, slowly, and steadily, and the heat in the room rises, the sweat starting to bead on your skin. You can feel your bond with him, the connection between you humming and singing, the emotions and sensations flowing between the two of you in an endless loop.

It's a connection you've both been wary of, one that can be dangerous if allowed to spiral, but one you can't help but give into, to revel in.

The tangled threads of emotion are difficult to separate, the love and the lust, the friendship and the desire, the anger and the pain, all of it swirling together, creating a heady mix of sensations. You can feel Obi-Wan's arousal, and his affection, his concern and his desire, and it only fuels your own, the emotions spurring each other on. 

You're both drowning in the intensity of the feedback loop, the connection amplifying everything, and you can't bring yourself to care, to even try and stop.

His thoughts and feelings are intertwined with yours, and you're not sure where one ends and the other begins. The lines are blurred beyond recognition, the barriers between you stripped away. It's all too easy to lose yourself in it, to allow yourself to seek out the lightness of his heart and make yourself at home.

You're drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and you let yourself go. You let yourself consume the happiness and the joy that he feels, the comfort and the pleasure, and you allow it to fill the aching void in your chest. The darkness is pushed back, the shadows chased away, and the light that fills the hollow places inside you is warm and sweet.

It's the happiest you've been in months.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan pants, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"I don't know," you breathe, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Just, please, keep going."

He nods, and he thrusts deeper, the pleasure rippling through the two of you. The sensation is intoxicating, and you find yourself clinging to it, the euphoria making your head spin. You can't help but reach out and search for more, the need to drown the pain and the grief, to silence the voices, driving you to chase the feeling.

It's dangerous, you know. It’s more than you’ve ever allowed yourself to take, but you're so lost in the sensation that you can't bring yourself to care. It's too much, too good, and you're desperate to hold on, to cling to the feeling of safety and peace that flows through the two of you.

You want to drown in the light, the hope and the warmth, and never resurface.

And so, you continue to take, and take, and take, until, with a sudden jolt, it's over.

The sudden absence of his energy, the cold shock of the emptiness, makes you gasp, and your eyes snap open. You’re met with Obi-Wan's concerned gaze, his eyes wide and frantic, and it takes you a moment to realize what's happened.

"Sorry," he breathes, his brow furrowed. His eyes search your face, and he swallows. "That was...intense."

You swallow, the guilt gnawing at your gut, and you nod, trying to calm your racing heart.

"Yeah," you murmur, your voice raspy as the shame threatens to make your throat close up. "Obi-Wan--"

"Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face. His thumb traces along the line of your jaw, and his touch is gentle, comforting. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours, his hair tickling your face. "It's okay."

You watch his eyes squeeze shut, his brows drawing together. He's trying to regain control, to rein in the emotions and the sensations that have gotten the better of him. Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, and his grip on your waist tightens.

The bond between the two of you has always been there, ever since the moment you'd met, and over the years it's only grown stronger. It was inevitable, really, with the amount of time the two of you spent together.

It's a natural, unconscious, and unavoidable process, and the fact that you can sense each other's emotions is not something the two of you can change. It's just part of who you both are, and while it's not a burden, not in any way, it is something that requires a delicate balance.

One that is easily lost.

And this, this is exactly why the Jedi forbid such attachments. Why the rules were created, why the lines were drawn, and why the two of you, no matter how much you care about each other, can never be more than this. The bond between the two of you is a double-edged sword, the connection amplifying both the good and the bad. It can bring the two of you together, closer than any two people could possibly be, or it can tear you completely asunder. 

And you know, just as you've always known, that if such a thing would ever come to pass, it would be your fault.

Obi-Wan's grip on your waist loosens, and the tension drains out of him, the momentary lapse forgotten. His eyes open, and he searches yours, his expression soft. He smiles, the warmth of it spreading through you, soothing the anxiety.

"Still with me?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"Yes," you breathe.

His gaze drops, and his eyes lock on the place where your bodies are joined. He lets out a quiet noise at the sight of your arousal coating the base of his cock, the wetness dripping down his length. His softening erection hardens again, and his hips twitch, the need to move returning.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down, pressing your chest against his. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him as his body shields yours from the outside world.

You're enveloped in his warmth, and you revel in the closeness, the intimacy. The pleasure sparks to life with each shift of his hips, and the two of you begin to move, slowly at first, then with more urgency, the rhythm picking up speed until the pace is frantic.

Your lips find his neck, and you begin to trail kisses up his jaw, the stubble rough against your lips. You nip at the sensitive spot just below his ear, and the moan that escapes him sends a shiver down your spine. His arms wrap around your waist, and he pulls you impossibly closer, his hips thrusting erratically. The pleasure builds, and the pressure in your abdomen grows, the release just out of reach.

Obi-Wan's grip on you tightens, and he buries his face in your neck, his lips tracing a path along your shoulder. His teeth graze your collarbone, and you can't help but tilt your head, exposing the sensitive skin to his wandering mouth. He takes the invitation, and his lips close over the soft flesh, his teeth biting down gently.

Your mind goes blank as the pressure inside you suddenly snaps, the pleasure flooding through you, washing over you in a wave. Your entire body tenses, and a low, keening moan escapes you, the sound echoing in the room. Your back arches, and you can't help the way your hips buck, grinding down against him, seeking out every last drop of the overwhelming sensations.

Obi-Wan lets out a groan at the feeling of your walls fluttering, and he rears back, his head snapping up, his eyes wild. He searches your face, his gaze darting across your features, as if trying to memorize every detail.

"I—" He swallows, his expression almost reverent, as if he can't quite believe what he's seeing. "I need—"

He cuts himself off, and his words are lost, his voice trailing off. You watch, transfixed, as he tries to get his breathing under control, his chest heaving with the effort. His eyes drift back to the spot where the two of you are joined, and he watches as his length disappears inside you, his breath hitching at the sight.

He's always loved this, watching the two of you come together, and he's not ashamed to admit it. Obi-Wan's not shy about what he wants, and he's never had a problem asking, not when it comes to this. He likes to watch, and he's never hesitated to tell you so, and as always, the words are on the tip of his tongue.

But he's distracted, and his gaze is unfocused, and hazy. He's lost in the sensation, and you can't help but marvel at the way his eyes widen as if the sight of the two of you together is somehow brand new, as if he's never seen anything like it.

"Obi-Wan," you whine, trying to get his attention.

"What?" he mumbles, his eyes glued to the spot where your bodies meet.

"Obi-Wan."

"Hmm?" He blinks, his gaze flickering up to yours. He looks like he's trying to remember how to speak, his lips parted, and his eyes unfocused. "Yes?"

"What do you want?"

His swallows hard, and his hips stutter. His expression turns pained, and he squeezes his eyes shut, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white.

He shakes his head, his breath coming in short gasps. "I can't—"

"Obi-Wan."

"Please," he moans, his voice a strangled whisper, and his hips slam into yours, the force of his movement making you cry out. "I can't."

You wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles locking behind him, and he whimpers at the sudden tightness, the increased pressure. His arms are trembling, and you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain of holding back.

"Then don't," you murmur.

You can see the conflict on his face, and his jaw clenches, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a soft groan, his head dropping forward, his forehead coming to rest on yours.

"But—"

"Obi-Wan, please."

You reach up, and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. He leans into your touch, and the contact seems to break the last of his resolve, his restraint shattering. He's still for a moment, as if the weight of what he's about to do is sinking in.

Then, his hips move faster, the slow, languid thrusts quickly giving way to something more primal, and frantic. You can feel the pleasure building inside him, and his thoughts, and emotions, bleed through the connection, his desire spilling over into you.

"I've got you," you murmur, and the words seem to shatter the last of his composure, the final pieces of his carefully crafted control slipping away.

He groans, the sound raw and desperate, and his hips slam into yours. You can feel the pleasure building, the tension growing, and his thrusts grow more erratic, the pace becoming frantic.

He's consumed by the feeling, and he's unable, or unwilling, to hide the way his mind is spiraling. The bond between the two of you is wide open, and his mind is an ocean, his emotions swelling and breaking against the shore. The waves of arousal and lust are overwhelming, and they're crashing over you, threatening to pull you under.

The intensity of it all is too much, and you have to turn away, squeezing your eyes shut. You can't look at him, can't bear the sight of him. He's laid bare before you, completely and utterly vulnerable, and you can't handle it. You're drowning in it, and it's all you can do to cling to him, to keep your head above water as Obi-Wan loses himself.

His hands find your thighs, and he holds them, lifting you up, and positioning you how he wants. The movement pushes him deeper, and the angle makes him hit that sweet spot, and you gasp, your eyes flying open.

"Please, I—"

"Not yet," he groans, his voice raw. "Wait, not yet."

"I—oh fuck, please," you gasp.

He doesn't respond, his body acting on instinct. His mind is a haze, and the need to be as close to you as possible, to give you everything, consumes him.

He wants to lose himself, and he's begging you to let him, and there's no way you can deny him. Tears spring to your eyes, and you can't stop the sob that escapes you.

And he doesn't care, doesn't even notice. He's blind to it, his senses too full of his own pleasure, his own need, to feel anything else. He doesn't even hear the words, the soft pleas, the whispered prayers that tumble from your lips. All he knows is that you're there, that you're with him, and he's holding you, touching you, inside you, and he wants, he needs, so badly.

And he takes.

He takes and takes, and you let him. You let him use you, and you bask in the sensation, in the knowledge that, at least for a few moments, you can be there for him.

You can be the light, and he can be the shadow.

And for those few moments, it's enough.

With a choked gasp, Obi-Wan pulls out, and you're left empty and wanting, biting your lip to stop from screaming at the loss. Through half-lidded eyes, you see him reach down, his fist closing around his erection, pumping it roughly, and then he's coming, his release coating your stomach, his cock pulsing as the pleasure floods through him. He moans through it, the sound muffled by the arm he throws across his mouth, and his face is twisted with pleasure, his brows drawn together.

The feeling of his pleasure crashes into you through the bond, and the sight of him losing himself, the look on his face and the sounds he makes, is enough to send you over the edge. You feel your walls flutter and clench around nothing, the emptiness only heightening the pleasure. Your body trembles, and your hands grasp at the sheets, searching for something, anything, to hold on to.

Obi-Wan watches in awe as your orgasm ripples through you, his eyes wide and his mouth agape as his arm falls away. You can feel his shock and wonder through the bond, his amazement at the sight of you coming untouched, and his hand doesn't stop until the last drop has spilled onto your stomach.

You're left breathless and boneless, your body trembling with the aftershocks, and you can't help the smile that spreads across your lips. The pleasure, the satisfaction, and the joy is radiating from him, and it's contagious. It's hard not to laugh, and harder still not to cry, and you're not sure what you'd do if not for the fact that you're both so utterly, completely spent.

Obi-Wan looks down at the mess, and chuckles, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "That was..." he trails off, his brain unable to come up with a coherent thought.

You nod, and let out a weak laugh, the sound more like a sigh. "I know."

"And I didn't even—"

"I know.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, and the sound is warm and light, his happiness spreading through the room. He runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, his eyes sparkling, and there's a shy grin plastered on his face.

"My apologies," he says, his tone sheepish. "I don't know what came over me."

"That makes one of us," you tease.

He snorts, his cheeks heating, and he falls to the side, rolling over on his back next to you. The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, trying to catch your breath, your shoulders brushing with each exhale.

You grin and nudge his arm. "Welcome back, by the way."

"I'm glad to be back," he replies, rolling onto his side to face you. He traces a lazy pattern across your skin, smirking when the muscles in your stomach flinch. "Though if this is the welcome I get, maybe I should stay away more often."

"Don't you dare," you warn, laughing.

Obi-Wan grins, and the look in his eyes is soft, the affection bleeding through the bond as his fingers trace along the curve of your hip. He watches you, his gaze lingering on your face, and there's a look in his eyes, a vulnerability that he rarely allows himself to show.

You feel a sudden wave of emotion, a mixture of love and regret, and the force of it steals your breath.

He shouldn't be looking at you like that, like you're his entire world, because you're not. You're his best friend, his confidant, his equal, but you're not his lover. And you're certainly not his soulmate, or his other half, or whatever the hell it is people call the person they're meant to be with.

He shouldn't be looking at you, and it makes the guilt gnaw at your gut, a reminder of what the two of you are doing, and what the two of you have done, over and over again. Because, as good as it feels, as much as it eases the pain, you can't pretend that it's not a mistake.

The Jedi are forbidden to love, and for good reason. Love is dangerous, and complicated, and it's the kind of attachment that leads to the Dark Side. The Council knows this, and the rules are in place to protect everyone, to keep the Order strong and united.

It's for the best, and it's necessary, and yet here the two of you are, breaking those rules. And for what? For some fleeting moments of pleasure, and a bit of fun? For some meaningless, empty physical connection, something that will never lead anywhere, and that can never last?

It's not worth it, not really. You both know that, and yet you continue to seek each other out, continuing to risk everything for the sake of a few hours of bliss. To pretend that everything is as it used to be, and that the war, and the fighting, and the dying are still a thousand worlds away.

It's foolish, and selfish, and reckless, but it's not something either of you can seem to stop. Obi-Wan has always done well at following the rules and obeying the Code, but he's also never been the most truly obedient of the Jedi. He's never been able to completely give up his attachments, and you know that his love for you is not the only one he carries. It's something the two of you share, the inability to let go of those you care about, and it's a weakness.

A weakness that, if not handled with care, could be his downfall. One that you can't help but feed into and encourage at every turn, even if it means destroying him. One that, despite your best efforts, you have come to rely on, to seek out, and to cling to.

It's a problem, and one that neither of you are able, or willing, to solve.

And so, the two of you remain in your little bubble of bliss, pretending that the universe isn't burning.

"Let's clean up and then come back to bed," you say, interrupting the silence. "There are some things I'd like to discuss with you, and I'd rather not be covered in fluids when I do so."

"Agreed."

Obi-Wan looks around, and a moment later a box of tissues flies from across the room into his hand. He helps you wipe off, and then you stand on shaky legs. You head to the fresher and clean yourself off properly, and by the time you return, he's already in bed, the blankets pulled up around his waist.

You slide in next to him, and the bed dips as he shifts closer, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. The two of you prop yourselves up on your elbows, and the position is familiar, the two of you having spent many nights discussing strategy and planning.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You hesitate. You could tell him about the nightmares. You could tell him about how the fear of losing him, of losing everything, is weighing heavy on your heart. You could tell him about how you can't sleep, can't focus, because all you can think about is how everything is falling apart, how the darkness is winning, how there's nothing you can do to stop it.

You could tell him, and he would listen. He would hold you, and he would comfort you, and he would offer his own advice. He would tell you that it's okay, and that everything will be fine, and that the nightmares are not real, and that he is not going anywhere. He would tell you that the darkness cannot win, and that the Republic will prevail, and that everything will work out.

He would tell you what you want to hear, and he would do it because he loves you, and because he wants to believe it, too.

But you don't. You can't bring yourself to, not yet. Not while he's looking at you like that, his gaze full of warmth and fondness and trust. Not when things are finally starting to get better, not when the two of you are finally getting somewhere. 

Obi-Wan has enough to deal with as it is without the weight of your own anxieties, and so you push aside your doubts and fears, and you decide, for once, to follow his example and to put on a brave face.

"Everything," you reply. "Tell me about Christophsis. Tell me what happened. I want to hear everything."

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, and you know that the stories he's about to tell you are going to be anything but pleasant. You also know that, no matter how bad they are, it will be a relief to talk about them.

You'll listen, and you'll offer what comfort you can, and you'll let him vent his frustrations and worries. And then, when it's all over, and the stories have been told, the two of you will curl up and sleep will take you. The nightmares will be held at bay, and the darkness will stay where it belongs, locked away until morning.

"Anakin's plan was insane," he begins, and you smile.

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[unhappytimeleaper]

I don’t know how to feel about this. I just couldn’t stop thinking about watching the rain and reflecting on Neuvillette. Also, who knows what might change as he is officially released. This is just an idea that was eating my soul. 

Also, requests are open. I don’t really need to close them, but I am still slow with writing since I work full-time. I am hoping to branch off a little more from just Enstars requests, and ,I’ve taken a lot more of an active interest in writing for Jojo specifically, but anything works.

Neuvillette; Unedited. Gender Neutral Reader. 

Warnings: very vague for the most part but talk of isolation, mental and physical abuse, and manipulation. It’s still Yandere.

Word Count: 2,300+

This blog is 17+ please have your age in your bio or tagged; any ageless blog and below the age asked for will be blocked at the end of the week.

plitter-platter, plitter-platter, plitter-platter—

The rain had been pouring for some time now, longer than usual. What could have set him off for so long was still unknown. The drumming of the rain against the window, your head pressed more into it and away from the armrest of the chair, almost as if hoping by sheer luck you’d phase through the glass and be set free. The sound of the rain, once so peaceful, has grown to become nauseating. Ringing in the depths of your ears and into your soul, plaguing as a reminder of the life you now had. When there is nothing to shut it out, it only digs in more into the predicament you’ve been chained to. No more are the cozy aspects of the rain curled up in a family home with food, cooking, and music as the rain danced across the roof or the time with friends running through the storm in attempts to find shelter, laughs filling the air—just you and the room. 

Well, the room could be your fault. You weren’t physically chained there— not anymore, but the walls of the home, as big as they were, only served to mock you. Too big of a cage, a labyrinth that could only make the looming fear of loneliness bury itself between your ribs and bloom across your heart. The shadows of people known not to interact with you but their whispers tickling in your ears. Sounds of them adding about their personal lives and families, trips, gossip across Fontaine… all while your days had become mostly kept in silence. No, you’d rather stay in here… just one room that you could build into an escape paradise from the weighing ache the rest brought you—filled with books, a window [that you had spent countless hours fighting with], plush chairs, and per your request some plants. You managed to get your argument across to him on allowing for such necessities; although he liked to remind you what he had given, he could just as much take away. Though you knew his bleeding heart for you, that under it all, he craved the love he one day believed you’d give him. Punishments were honest; you knew that much had been burned into your brain, but it was rare that little things would be a trigger for him to take account less you become too much of a “brat.” Ugh, how easy it was to scoff at that term— treating you like a child having a tantrum compared to the reality of a human stuck in the grasp of the inhuman judge himself. 

Sometimes, you wondered what was better; he often was gone. Working, fulfilling a role you had to bite your tongue to denounce him from. If someone couldn’t understand humans, couldn’t understand what drove them to petty crimes and the struggles so many befall, why should he be allowed to make the calls? Judge-free, unbiased… no, that isn’t the way to handle it; you knew the pain of it all weighed down on him, which was something enough [better than doing so without remorse] but didn’t alter the unfair nature of the law. Not when, through it all, you ended up here, a product for his love rather than a participant. But him being gone didn’t change the aching; with the limited interactions, it was only through him the loneliness had a moment to dull. Even if you hated to admit it, you were only human— only able to crave someone to share time with to break the deafening silence of the home. Of the rain. It scared you. To know if he was around more, around enough that your fight to be free would extinguished. You’d lose yourself, complacent in a life you never asked for. If he was home more, would you lose yourself faster, lose the motivation to escape, and become just another wheel in the cog of fate? Or would you have more time to whittle down his defenses and create more openings for means of escape? The thought could only make your heart beat faster, drumming along to the rain, though was it out of fear or excitement? It was hard to tell.

plitter-platter, plitter-platter, plitter-platter—

Breathe fogged up a patch of the window, the cooling glass chilling the chunk of the forehead that was placed against it. The feeling was uncomfortable, both in angle and blooming chills from the material, but not enough to want to move. The rain was still falling, though slowly dying down. He’d be home soon, creeping into the room looking for you just like every night. Days spent on loop, blending more and more into each other. He didn’t mind crying in front of you, often the tears adorning your shoulder or back as he held you close, but he seemed to try to keep the outside world— well outside. He knew it upset you, that it’d turn into some argument, and he’d need to find a reason to punish you for breaking the rules. You often had to bite your tongue, wanting to tell him this is why inhuman creatures shouldn’t have human partners. The gap in communication, feelings and needs was too much. It was killing both of you. You could feel it as he wept, the soft rain showers of him just not understanding, not being able to communicate effectively the motions of his heart. 

Two drops lined up just centimeters from your face. The mark of a race, the starting line. It was a time that once was so innocent when you were a kid choosing a random drop and narrating it in your head as you waited for the storm to pass so you could go out and play. ‘Woe is me’ could only be how you thought of it now. Him and you set up for the race— the starting line and… go. 

Rolling down the frame and collecting other droplets, their trails jumping and altering in their paths as gravity dragged them down. One pulled into the lead, always him. He was always one step ahead, one smarter and more intuned. Like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar, he always found your new escape attempt and could see through your flowery words of deception. In that sense, you had to admit his role fits him well, but only left the bitter remains of the stems in your mouth when he locked you back up with a ‘you’ll be let out when you learn not to lie.’ It must be something tied to him on a fundamental level, a sense. Or perhaps it was just age, something you could never achieve. You couldn’t count how many times you watched the droplets race, hoping that maybe just once you could be one step ahead, one…

No. Even if you did, where would you go? The melusine were everywhere, and getting out within reach of the court would be a life sentence of punishment. Perhaps solace somewhere in the underground community, but someone likely would sell you out to better favor their outcome. You could break for the border; it’d be brutal and dangerous, a bounty on your head faster than you could imagine. Would other regions even be safe from a runaway? Maybe some other small communities… would become looking for you? Would you have to always stay alert for the rest of your life? Would you have to live alone, fending only for yourself? You’d lose yourself just as much in a life like that, but maybe it was the price of freedom. The price of not playing a role, soul withering away trying to maintain the rules and ideals of something you could never understand. When did your thought become so sorrowful, the fight you once had? A flame extinguished by the rain left only as sparks fumbling to stay lit. Look away, it wasn’t over yet. There had to be good out there, people who could understand, you’d take you in. Life would never be easy again, but it wasn’t over. Not yet. 

Lifting your head from the window was always weirdly comforting, the movement restored to your neck and it stretching back into place. The coolness of the glass no longer flushed against your skin, allowing the heat of the room to melt away the temperature. Rest your mind, reset your body. He never minded the long game, maybe as time for him felt infinite. But rushing would only cause holes in a plan you couldn’t keep affording to lose. The storm would pass, and you’d find a way to relight that flame. You couldn’t let him win, and you couldn’t let this system win. 

plat, plat, plat…

“My love,” he spoke. He— Neuvillette, was home. The rain had stopped, only some residue drops highlighting the storm moments before. He stood in the doorway, hand holding the frame as his voice reverberated across the silent room. He always waited for you to notice him before entering. Permission didn’t matter, but in a sense, it tended to bring some comfort to know where the dragon lurked. It only took a brief flash of eye contact for him to take it as clearance into entering the room, legs quickly carrying him to your seat. 

Neuvillette stood in front of you, pristine and put together; his eyes sharply focused on you, and his neutral expression made him seem more intimating than you knew he was. You had been here long enough as well to see the faint but dried crust of where his tears had pooled down his cheeks from moments just before. It didn’t change the power radiating off him, seeping into the room and over you like a blanket to remind you he was in charge here. Curiosity burned in your stomach, leaping up your throat, wanting you to ask what could have caused him to cry so much.

Gossip regarding the law wasn’t to be taken seriously, but the lack of outside world stimulation always makes the prospects more enticing. It burned in your mind to know what was happening outside of your cage, in the world below. Though asking would only come back to haunt you, the fights that led to punishments burned into your mind and skin even if the physical sides had healed. Not to mention the way he would take it if the words even managed not to set off a disagreement, that you cared. Neuvillette may be blind to human emotions and feelings, but he did have his own set— and that presented as caring for him on the most basic level of touch or tone only worked against you. Solidifying your partnership, your love in his mind. 

The silence was always more deafening when he stood before you; that even a breath would break the moment. His hand was delicate, though, floating to your head before wistfully tracing your hair and to your chin. It tickled, enough you wanted to flinch but knew better as he tilted your head to look into his eyes more. Pulling his hand from your face, he held it with his palm up. You knew what he was asking. Take his hand, but don’t look away. Unlike his graceful movements, you didn’t have as much time before his eyes would narrow, a sign of rejection in his eyes— he couldn’t take it. Unlike for humans, you could only assume there was something dormant, something innate that drove the ideas of jealousy, rejection, and the need to isolate on a biological level rather than mental. People could do just the same; you knew this for a fact, but the way he carried it out felt more visceral. Not doing so wasn’t an option; it freed him from his own judgment because nothing could defy the fact of biology. 

Your hand moved from instinct; at least, at this point, it was strange to think of how things now were ingrained in you. The movements of hands, replying to questions, from when it was time to sleep and wake up to where you walked through the day. That it just instantly would click, a passive thought or action. Not trained into you but a reflection of your life, how the passing days and routines with him had become a staple in your life. You had changed since then, proof that whatever was to come was inevitable—a mark of fate. 

Pulled to your feet, Neuvillette wrapped his arm around your torso, still ghostly with his touches. His face now resting on your hair as he breathed– in and out. The tension in his body released just slightly, but as if you were the answer to what had been weighing down on him. “My love,” he repeated, lips softly tickling the top of your head, “come on. Let’s have dinner.” 

The routine of your long day: Neuvillette returns from work to fetch you from your room to a meal before settling into bed together. He’d try to make a convo, and sometimes you’d reply. Other times, he’d focus on reading something, and you’d do the same or just turn your back, hoping he’d get the hint. There was no use in fighting it; the rules layered in stone. 

“Okay.” 

[jccatstudios]

Helloo! I've been curious what'd change if you were to make the comic in color? Not in full color though, for instance the brownish color of the “you're a thief kaz” page is absolutely gorgeous and I was thinking if deciding to go that route would slow down the process of making the comic. The black and white shades you use are so good that half the time I sort of forget the comic's not in color.

P.S. really sorry if that's a stupid thing to ask (sketching until the side of my hand is graphite stained is my idea of a fun time so I haven't given digital art a try yet)

P.P.S. have a magical summer :)

That actually doesn't take long to do! I made a gradient map layer for that page and it can be applied to any file with just a click. Sometimes I turn on the layer on normal chapter pages just to see what it looks like. I do black-and-white because it's faster and cheaper to print. My goal is to always make my comics as financially accessible as possible, so grayscale printing is the way to go. Plus, I really love the simplicity and beauty of black ink.

Speaking of the comic, it's in the works! I'm over halfway done inking page 25, and I have to get it done before I lose access to the school scanners next week. Expect an update soon, I mean it! My Batman comic final (wild concept, I know) has been my top priority for the past few weeks, but I'm nearing the end of that too. I can't say it'll be smooth sailing in terms of updates after that. There'll be like a 2–3 week period where I won't be able to scan still and I'll be going to a convention. For the rest of the summer, I plan on getting a lot done of Chapter 3. I'm honestly so proud of page 25 so far since it's the first page that's been redone with a new production method I'm trying (I can talk about that later). I hope you guys will like it too :)

[humbledragon669]

S1E1 – In The Beginning Write Up P3

– Five Years Later (allegedly) and The Present Day

Alright so let’s address the elephant in the room here shall we? The signpost tells us, in no uncertain terms, that the story line has moved on by five years. I have a serious issue with that assertion, and it’s not just because this is in direct contradiction to the storyline in the book. It goes a little something like this:

I cannot believe that Aziraphale and Crowley have left the Antichrist alone for the first five years of his life.

Even if we’re generous here and say that Crowley steps in to replace a nanny that has been present for Warlock’s early years, it simply doesn’t make any sense that they would have sat back and let him develop on his merry way for the most influential years of his life (sorry Neil, but I will die on this hill). The book’s timeline here makes a lot more sense – that both Aziraphale and Crowley are inserted into Warlock’s life within a week of his birth, Aziraphale as the gardener and Crowley as the nanny. At the age of five, they both leave and return immediately as tutors for him, ensuring that they are both present for his entire childhood. With that in mind, I’m going to do something potentially controversial and adopt the book timeline as fact. It just makes more sense. Also that will make my fanfic ideas not only possible but genuinely really feasible. Honestly, I don’t know why the timeline deviates from the book here – this matter aside, the series is a truly excellent adaptation of the book (judged by the fact that I never said “that’s not how it happened in the book” for the whole of series 1. There are a lot of media writers that could learn a lot from Neil on this point – I’m looking at you Discovery of Witches series 2 creative team).

There are two things I find interesting about the short scene that follows (no, one of them is not how well David carries off a skirt, though I do really appreciate the Mary Poppins reference with that costume). Firstly, the positioning of Aziraphale as a gardener. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that the idea of a garden is brought up again, but I can’t quite make the connection myself. Perhaps there isn’t meant to be one. That said, I would have thought, given his character, Aziraphale might have been more suitable as something like a butler (it would even give him the opportunity to steal food!), which would likely give him more opportunity to interact with Warlock throughout his childhood, so I do feel like there’s something here.

On a tangential (and impossible-to-be-related) note, I saw Nye a few days ago (a play about the founder of the NHS, starring Michael, for those who don’t know what this is) and there was a line in it about Nye and his wife believing their love to be like a garden – he planted the love and she tended to it. It was truly beautiful and touching. I felt like I had a sort of light bulb moment about gardens in GO and then realised that the two productions have nothing to do with one another!

The second thing I noted about this sequence is more something of note than something that has meaning. Having discussed the music/soundtrack for this series in a previous write up, it should come as no surprise that there is a cute little parallel here: the melody Crowley uses for the lullaby he sings to Warlock is the same as the melody for the second motif in the theme tune. It’s slowed down quite considerably, but still recognisable.

Original theme:

Lullaby:

I have to say, I’m a little disappointed we don’t get to hear the rendition of “Three Little Pigs” that we’re treated to in the book. I am not ashamed to say that I laughed very long and very hard when I read it – I have a pretty dark sense of humour. Perhaps this was a little too much for the good ol’ BBC?

Quick item of note from the next scene at Heaven/Hell HQ – this series has escalators instead of an elevator. I had originally assumed that this was the same building as we see being used in series 2 to gain access to Heaven but looking at the background when Crowley and Aziraphale enter the building, it’s clear that it’s a completely different building, which just makes me wonder where exactly the HQ entrance is. There’s a really clever piece of editing at use here too, one which I actually didn’t spot until I was doing this write up.

I hadn’t noticed previously that the duplicate image of the escalator on the floor of the lobby ISN’T a reflection of the physical escalators. On the left, we can see Crowley’s image on a set of escalators going down, whilst we see no reflection of Aziraphale. We even get to see Crowley approach the escalator in the “reflection” after he disappears through the floor, whilst Aziraphale’s reflection disappears from the floor as he approaches the stairs, and both of these things happen as they walk across an area that ripples like water under their feet. I don’t think there’s any hidden meaning in this, I just think it’s a really cool piece of film.

When we see the angel and demon giving their reports to their respective head offices, it’s made clear to us that neither authority has any awareness of their collaboration. In fact, Aziraphale is still held in high esteem by Gabriel and Michael (though perhaps not Uriel and Sandalphon – those two always look like someone just pissed on their nice suits) and is even given permission to continue on his apparently futile mission. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of Crowley, but as Liggur said earlier in the episode, it would be a funny thing if demons could trust one another anyway.

It’s nice to see that Heaven isn’t so busy that it can’t produce a newspaper for its earthbound agents, complete with weak headlines, worthy of any local rag:

I do not think it a coincidence that the newspaper has been given the title of “Observer” – after all, it’s pretty much all they do up there isn’t it? Watch people? Other than planning Armageddon I mean…

The short scene on the bus also shows us a little more of the dynamic between Crowley and Aziraphale when it comes to planning. It’s clear that the angel is relying on the demon to lead the way and he looks really worried when it’s made apparent that Crowley doesn’t have a plan for a potential emergency situation.

Quick note about the Hell Hound – he’s being housed in a room with a number on it – 2549. Does this mean there have been 2548 Hell Hounds before him? Hastur certainly indicates that he isn’t the only Hell Hound they have (but he is the biggest). Where are the rest of them?

The conversation (which takes place in the grounds of Crystal Palace Dinosaur Park - the repeated reference to dinosaurs being a big joke in this scene is not lost on me) on the park bench is the first time we hear Crowley call Aziraphale by the name “Angel”. Neil has confirmed (here and here) that this isn’t anything other than a factual name to use but I can’t help but feel like it’s affectionate. It’s certainly very familiar and it’s interesting to see that Aziraphale doesn’t repay the favour; perhaps this is to do with the meaning of the words – after all, calling someone “demon” doesn’t feel very polite, does it? Or perhaps it’s just that “Aziraphale” is a bit of a mouthful to say. This is also the first time we are let in to the secret of them having their own side:

AZIRAPHALE: And if he does name it? CROWLEY: Then you and I have lost.

The conversation around the potential murder of an 11-year-old boy presents an interesting side of the relationship between the pair. I don’t think I’m alone in thinking that the suggestion that Aziraphale is capable of killing an innocent child (even if he is the Antichrist) is nothing short of laughable, and Crowley would know this. This suggestion is shared with a rare occurrence of Crowley communicating “secretly” with Aziraphale where the angel doesn’t get the message, and the irony is that Crowley isn’t even being that subtle about it. There’s no doubt that Aziraphale really doesn’t get the drift though:

It’s painful to watch Aziraphale’s thought process here. He knows that Crowley’s logic actually makes sense but he can’t tally that with his own moral compass – it’s a struggle that I think the vast majority of us would go through if put in the same position. Sadly, it’s not like Crowley has much other choice than to suggest Aziraphale does the deed – if he were to do it himself, the repercussions for him would be unthinkable. It’s clear that this is the first time he has raised this idea in the eleven years they’ve been doing this job together and he can’t even say it without his voice breaking (see “one life against the universe”), and once it’s clear that Aziraphale isn’t open to the idea he doesn’t push him or lose his temper. He watches Aziraphale carefully for the whole exchange, without changing his expression, which I take to mean he’s watching for any signs that he’s pushing him too far.  All of this tells me he’s only done it because they’re getting desperate.

Alright, it’s time to move on to the little “magic” routine. I find this whole sequence adorable - can we say 1941 vibes? I do find it interesting just how quickly Aziraphale’s mood changes with the idea of him being able to perform some magic again – he’s gone from the contemplation of the ethics of an actual trolley problem (see here if you don’t know what that is) to a smiling, bubbly angel complaining that his companion is “no fun” in mere seconds. For someone who lives their life in eons of centuries instead of years or decades, he’s a remarkably fickle being! It’s pretty blurry in this shot, but just look how happy this angel is:

The hidden communication thread is resumed at normal operation here as Crowley knows exactly what Aziraphale means when he says he could “entertain” – he knows exactly what he means by this and is not amused by the implications.

I also find Crowley’s use of the word “demeaning” an interesting choice here. Usually we might say embarrassing; in fact the dictionary definition of demeaning is to lower the character of somebody, or to make them feel less respected. Whilst I can fully understand why Crowley might be embarrassed by Aziraphale’s pathetic attempts at illusionary magic, I am less clear on why he would find it demeaning. UNLESS. Unless my suppositions about the state of their relationship are correct, in which case they would have already been together (romantically) for almost eleven years at this point. Then it makes a weird sort of sense.

The comic little squabble that follows also makes perfect sense in this context. This couple are in no mood to compromise on this matter; Aziraphale will not be told that he’s a shit magician because he has too much fun doing it (this despite the fact that we know he and Crowley agreed he shouldn’t do magic anymore, but unlike in 1941, there’s no risk of anybody getting hurt if he drops a coin on the floor) and Crowley will not concede that he’s being a killjoy (which goes quite against his character). The spat concludes with Crowley delivering a passive-aggressive threat to Aziraphale, which you can see he instantly reconsiders with a head tilt - probably wise considering how unimpressed the angel is with it.

Side note: the watch that Crowley is wearing (seen at Warlock’s birthday party) appears to be a Devon Tread 1 A, coming in at a cool 18.5K (dollars). The book does make mention of his watch being fucking fashionably expensive but it was custom made for him, with an extra time zone for “Another Place” where the time is always “Too Late”.

Another side note: how many dens did you make as a child? A fair few I’d bet if you were anything like me. Did they ever look as cool as the one that The Them has? Me neither. I mean, just look at all those guns and skeletons used for decoration:

Once we’re back at the book shop, I find it interesting that Aziraphale is intending to imbibe (we don’t actually see him drink any of it) whatever spirit he’s given to Crowley. I’ve no doubt it’s good quality, it’s just unusual to see him drinking hard liquor – perhaps this is simply due to the seriousness of the situation he finds himself in. Their conversation about lying in memos to head office also suggests that Crowley might not be the only one lying to his bosses:

CROWLEY: Everyone stretches the truth a bit in memos to head office, you know that.

Is it me, or is there a sense of “I told you so” to Aziraphale’s lack of sympathy towards Crowley’s despair? Some might say it’s reminiscent of the way a stereotypical nagging wife speaks to their long-suffering husband when he’s done something wrong…

In amongst the dark threat of impending Armageddon, we’re still treated to a little comedy (and perhaps another Clue as to the current status of the relationship between the angel and demon). Crowley’s snappy, and ill-considered, outburst in response to Aziraphale’s almost apologetic confession that he’s wearing a new cologne is well worth a word or two. Let’s say for a second that this pair are not romantically involved at this point in time – is it not a bit strange to think that the person you’re with knows you so well that they would detect that you’re wearing a different perfume than usual? I would think you’d have to be spending a LOT of time in VERY close proximity to that person for that piece of information to be anywhere near their radar. And what’s with the angel’s apologetic tone? Why would you feel the need to be sorry about trying out a new cologne? Aziraphale doesn’t look particularly shocked when Crowley announces that he knows what he smells like, and Crowley’s tone and facial expression suggests he thinks this piece of knowledge is a pretty obvious one.

Here’s my last observation for this episode. Check out just how earnest Crowley is in this delivery:

Despite Aziraphale’s response that he thinks he obviously would, I don’t really feel like he believes this stance, and he’d do anything not to believe that what Crowley is saying is true.

And so concludes the first episode! If you’ve made it this far through my write-up(s) so far, I commend and thank you. I’ll start work on the next episode over the next few days, but in the meantime I’ll also write a master post that I’ll add to as I go along. As always, comments, questions, discussions and any other engagements are welcome.

[pawborough]

Hello everyone! 

First off, apologies for the later update this month! 

The truth is that the software developers were on a slow bend this month. A majority of time was spent on theoretical economy balancing and item number crunching. While this is important work for the long term, there’s not much to show for it aside from spreadsheet numbers. We’re now back in full swing!

Originally, we wanted to wait to update the demo with Longhairs before releasing a check in. You all deserve some substantial content. 

However, the devs reported that they were not going to be able to do this until next week. Hearing this, we didn't want to continue the wait after that!

That all being said, Longhairs and Cheeks/Lollipop are coming this month, full promise! The art has all been ready, we just had some technical kinks to buff out!

Moontails are next up with the majority of their patterns done. The breed currently needs 3 more patterns illustrated. Moontail wing color-picking has also been a mighty task that is nearing completion! Check out a few wing color previews: 

We expect Moontails to be up soon after Longhairs. 

We have in the meantime begun concurrent production on illustrating Thumpers, with Fyrets and Bovines close behind. 

This update, we will majority talk about what concrete expectations you as a follower can have for our timeline! 

Let's look at some art first! 

New Fauna

Nautitum 

This aquatic fella saves snacks for later in his belly!

New Accessories

We have completed a backer accessory!

Firefly Chime

The illustration of the Firefly Chime was a great experiment for us, as we worked with a copy-past-able asset and still positioned it in unique ways. 

With these two, we were able to test our pipeline for different types of accessories. The Firefly Chime was finished in record time, and we believe that we can illustrate quite a few simple accessories. 

This is all very exciting for our catalog! 

Guild UI

With this screenshot, we see how roll for outcome scenarios are played out!

We want to talk about our expectations for the future! 

Our goal for a dedicated alpha is to have a test of about 100 concurrent users run for two weeks straight. This is to stress test the servers and weed out apparent bugs. We already have many playable states, but this test would mark a tangible transition to beta. 

After which, we will move to beta to test things like number balancing, item drop rates, and general mechanic feedback. Beta is planned to run for several months while we iron the kinks. 

So what should you expect? 

Our original plan was for alpha to remain strictly internal and invite only. We wanted testers to understand that this would be a rather laborious volunteer job with less fun, more QA. However, we have been shown by the sheer dedication and passion in our supporters that some of you would want nothing more! 

So, we're opening alpha applications! 

Alpha Applications

Alpha will be a two week long test with an average of 100 users. 

We must stress that this is a volunteer job with more expectations than beta. You will be given a checklist of functions to test and buttons to click daily, and be expected to report any bugs or lack thereof each time. All alpha testers will be compensated for their time and energy with an exclusive fauna. (As mentioned before, exclusive Fauna will not be counted for Faunapedia completion rewards.) 

Compatible volunteers will be chosen at random from our application. 

Sign up here! 

Applications will close upon announcement. We will make an announcement of a closure date one week before they officially close!

Timeline

We are planning to have alpha up and running within 30-60 days from now.

Closed beta will begin 3 weeks after alpha. 

From there, we plan to open our doors for people without beta keys during registration periods. This will be "open beta." 

Projection for this is August of 2024. 

This asset will be pinned to all our social media. 

While we've had general estimations before now based on different factors, this is our first promise of an established expectation. We had a lot of learning curves, personal setbacks, and growing pains as a team, but we've ironed out much of the kinks seen in our early development. August has been a consistent goal of ours for opening registrations from the beginning, and we're now finally comfortable enough to announce it. 

We are still hesitant to announce dates at this time, as frankly anything can happen and we're loath to have users wait months for a date only to be disappointed by a push to the next week, but this is what our team is expecting and projecting. 

Dates will be announced when they are within 2 weeks time! This will give us a tight enough window to accurately predict when the game will be ready, and ensure there aren’t last minute pushes. It will also give users time to prepare for grabbing early registrations. 

From open beta, we'll be working to transition into a formidable game. All our focus will be on readying content and making sure our mechanics are balanced. This ballpark is dependent on a number of factors, so we'll need to update as we transition into Phase 4! 

One more note for users to expect: Throughout alpha and beta, there may be placeholder assets for smaller things such as food icons or items. These will be visually indicated as placeholders. 

The intention for these game states will be to make sure our software runs as smoothly as possible, the economy is balanced, and the game is fun to play. Our program will not be "launched" until all assets are final, but it will speed our development to both test and produce at the same time! 

Our artists during this phase of development are all freelancers, and their availability is largely dependent on outside factors. We must remain vigilant to this fact while we plan out our timeline, and we appreciate everyone's support and patience!

We realize this update has less content than previous updates, but a large amount of our manpower at this moment is going towards monotonous things such as repeat pattern illustrations, repeat accessory illustrations, and refinement of mechanics already featured.

Thank you to all our supporters who have stuck by us while we continued development and faced new challenges! It's a huge step for us to be at this stage, and we're all very excited!

To Summarize: We showed a new fauna, new backer accessory, guild UI development, and opened applications for 2-week dedicated alpha testing. 

What to expect next month: Further asset and UI development, peaks into alpha gameplay and dedicated game loops. 

[prettygirls-grave]

restarting ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

this is mostly for myself, but i'm in dire need of a life restart. if anyone out there is feeling stuck, unmotivated, tired, or depressed, like me, this is my little guide to slowly get out of that era. if you find it useful, yay!!

slow goals- these are my "starting point" goals, because setting unrealistic expectations for myself as fallen through sooo many times.

read 20 minutes per day

practice math 2x per week

exercise every other day

meditate (manifest, or positive affirmations) every morning

do something for myself daily (journal, go for a walk, hobbies)

document life daily (upcoming series on this blog!!)

final goals- these are my big, long term goals

have my desired appearance

have a consistent and fulfilling routine

get into my desired school

enjoy life

love myself

be at peace

progress in speaking croatian/italian

month 1- healingˋ°•*⁀➷

from february-march 20th, my goal is to focus on maintaining happiness and loving myself. i will achieve this through daily affirmations, slow routines, gently implementing habits, focusing on the positive, and limiting negative media consumption. this month will be about laying the groundwork. right now, you & i aren't doing the best, but with gradual changes in our miserable routines, we'll be feeling better!!

month 2- progressingˋ°•*⁀➷

from march-april 20th, we'll be amplifying our current routines (probably will go more in depth when we get here) we'll be spending more time on our most important goals. for me, i will revise and practice math for 1 hour every day, have daily language lessons, and venture out of my comfort zone. the most important aspect of this month is consistency!

month 3- set in stoneˋ°•*⁀➷

now it's roughly april 20th! (the dates are just my personal timeline, but are flexible ofc) it's been 2 months of consistent routine, and results are showing up! this month for me will getting on the education grind- making sure i've learned everything in all subjects this year, revising, practicing, and learning more. for this month i want to grow myself in terms of knowledge.

month 4- finale!ˋ°•*⁀➷

june 20th! it's almost summer, school is nearly done, and my school's enrollment is coming up. right now, we're probably used to our routines, and we're feeling goooood! reward ourselves, but final school revision should be happening. i'll be using this month to feel fully confident in my knowledge of math, and other subject's that will be on my school's enrollment. by now we've got our summer bodies, so maybe change up your appearance!! finish this challenge strong <3

»»———— ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆————-««

for each quarter, i'll post a more in-depth guide as to what i'll be doing. this guide is obviously tailored to myself, so change it up if needed! i'll also document my "productivity" every day to hold myself accountable.

i'll also post some more detailed posts about the manifesting i'd like to do along the way, and other self development thingies.

guys i'm not a self-help girlie, but this is just my little journey attempting to exit depression. of course i'll post about my other silly little interests.

enjoy!!

[fans4wga]

8 NOVEMBER: SAG REACHES TENTATIVE AGREEMENT TO END STRIKE

"After a grueling118 days on strike, SAG-AFTRA has officially reached a tentative agreement on a new three-year contract with studios, a move that is heralding the end of the 2023 actors’ strike.

The SAG-AFTRA TV/Theatrical Committee approved the agreement in a unanimous vote on Wednesday, SAG-AFTRA announced. The strike will end at 12:01 am Thursday.

The performers’ union and the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers announced the provisional agreement on Wedneday, after about two weeks of renewed negotiations. If ratified by the SAG-AFTRA members, the deal could bring an end to the strike that kneecapped Hollywood for much of the summer and early fall in conjunction with the writers’ strike, which ended in late September.

The union and the AMPTP are so far being mum on the details of the agreement, which will emerge in the next few days prior to the union’s ratification vote. If the deal is ratified, the contract could soon go into effect, and if not, members would essentially send their labor negotiators back to the bargaining table with the AMPTP. It was unclear as of press time whether the union would end the strike before or after the ratification vote.

When negotiations restarted on Oct. 2 for the first time since SAG-AFTRA called its work stoppage in July, hopes were high in the industry that Hollywood’s largest union could come to terms with major companies quickly. Just like they had in the final days of the writers’ negotiations, Netflix co-CEO Ted Sarandos, Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav, Disney CEO Bob Iger and NBCUniversal Studio Group chairman and chief content officer Donna Langley attended the talks at the union’s national headquarters in Los Angeles. But the studio ended up walking out on Oct. 11 over SAG-AFTRA’s proposal to charge a fee per every streaming subscriber on major platforms in a move that the union’s chief negotiator called “mystifying” (Sarandos called the ask “a bridge too far“).

The sides reconvened on Oct. 24 after a nearly two-week break. This time, the studios came in with a more generous offer to increase actors’ wage floors and a slightly modified version of a success-based streaming bonus they had previously offered the WGA. The two sides exchanged proposals for much of the week in a tense situation that had the industry on edge. Even as a deal came into sight, progress was slow, especially when it came to putting the contract’s inaugural guardrails on AI: The union considers the rapidly advancing technology an absolutely existential issue for members and sought to close any potential loopholes that could lead to future issues. On Saturday the studios presented what the union characterized as the companies’ “last, best and final,” overarching offer (still, the two sides kept swapping offers after).

When the union’s previous contract expired in mid-July and SAG-AFTRA went out on strike, many outstanding issues were left on the table. Setting terms for the use of A.I. was a major sticking point between union and studio negotiators, as was a proposal to provide casts with additional streaming compensation. Union negotiators sought to institute an unusually large minimum rate increase in the first year of the contract, a host of ground rules for self-taped virtual auditions and major increases to health and pension contributions “caps” that have not been changed since the 1980s. Meanwhile, as the entertainment business continues to experience a period of contraction, major companies looked to preserve some measure of flexibility and cost control.

SAG-AFTRA’s strike, coming as it did amid an ongoing writers’ strike in July, gave the union an unusual amount of leverage early on in its talks with the AMPTP. Almost immediately, most remaining unionized U.S. productions that were operating without writers shut down, including Deadpool 3 and Venom 3. An as the months of the work stoppage stretched on, a strategist at the Milken Institute has estimated that the strikes have cost the California economy alone at least $6 billion.

But pressure started to build as the strike neared and surpassed its 100-day mark. A-lister actors began talking to both their union and the studios in an attempt to improve progress in the negotiations. A number of actors also started drafting a letter expressing concerns about the union’s leadership but held back from publishing it, fearful of the missive’s potential impact on negotiations. Then, on Oct. 26, a separate letter was released signed by apparently thousands of actors, exhorting negotiators, “We have not come all this way to cave now.”

The amount of time that the union spent on strike in 2023 will certainly raise expectations for the deal they reached with studios. In the union’s upcoming ratification vote, the date of which has not yet been announced, members will decide whether the pact is acceptable to them."

[lieutenantfloyd]

✦Day and Night — Yuki Tsunoda✦

Dating AU (headcanons)

Pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x reader

Summary: What daily life is like in your relationship with Yuki.

Notes: This is the product of me getting distracted while writing a completely different thing for a completely different driver (more on that later). Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this! <3

Day

♫ Bad Haircut - Stephani Poetri & JVKE

Your days start slow. Mornings are full of soft cuddles and even softer kisses. When it’s finally time to greet the outside world, expect to coordinate entire outfits, or at minimum match sneakers. He’ll pick you a bouquet of wildflowers whenever he spots them, only to be left worshipping the small bug bites perpetually scattered across his knuckles whenever he’s away for a race. His love of food bleeds its way into your relationship in a myriad of ways. Whether it's him waking up early to make you breakfast in bed, catching up over lunch at a new restaurant, or taking turns being each other's sous chef whenever there’s a recipe you want to try out. When your schedules allow, you’ll travel to one of the many places you always talked about going to. At some point you’ll invest in cameras; his digital and yours analog; with the notion of capturing the beauty of the world around you. Nevertheless, you’ll return home every time with pictures of nothing but each other. If you ask him to teach you/help you improve your Japanese, he’d be over the moon. Watching your eyes light up with recognition as you start to understand his words of adoration and terms of endearment is enough to make his heart nearly burst.

Night

♫ Here With Me - D4vd

Nights with Yuki end just as soft as the days begin. You’ll complete your nightly chores before playing video games or reading. It’s all so hopelessly domestic. If he’s had a hard week, you get him to take a bath with you. You can practically see the tension slipping from his shoulders as you shower him with floral soaps and loving words of encouragement. On occasion, always when he’s in a particularly cheerful and clingy mood, he’ll pester you to share a gloriously graceless slow dance. While this usually happens at home, there have been several times he’s convinced you to dance with him in the most social of situations. No matter the location, Yuki always makes sure to mark the intro, chorus, and outro of each song with a kiss. When insomnia gets the best of you, you’ll go on late-night drives. The streets are nearly empty and he’ll always insist on driving. At some point, he’ll pull over for a midnight snack. You always pick something like chips, pizza, or sandwiches while Yuki always chooses nothing but sweets. Salty and savory foods might not be your favorite, but Yuki's bright eyes and near-blinding smile when he inevitably mentions how well you balance each other out certainly is. The best nights are when he finds himself wine drunk and overflowing with love in its most pure form. Giggling and tripping over his words as he spills every last bullet point on his list of hopes, dreams, and intentions for your future together. Introducing your families to each other. Two dogs and a cat. Fresh flowers and white linens. Home-cooked meals. Wedding vows and pastel-painted nurseries. A modest home, a gentle life.

[bangtanfanfiction]

layin’ low → kth (M)

Inspired by the queen Hyolyn’s release ‘Layin’ Low’. 

M.List

♢ Pairing: Taehyung x Idol!Reader ft. Jeongguk and Jimin as dance partners

♢ Word count: 4.4k

♢ Genre: fluff, smut, secret relationship      Warning: swearing, jealous/possessive behavior, female & male oral sex, quickie, backstage sex, dirty talk, slight dom Tae

↳ Hyolyn always has me hook, line and sinker for every comeback she does. So here’s a one shot inspired by the dance of her new song cause I’m a thirsty bitch :´)

Blankly staring at the surface of the table beneath your laptop, you took a slow, contemplating sip of your now watered coffee in the tall, slim glass, matching clear straw to follow. The screen of your laptop stared back at you as you grumbled again.

The paused frame of the dance practice to your newest song was currently your largest annoyance. 

The finished product of practicing and recording it with your dancers ended last week, and not even a whole week later, your management informed you of a scheduled invitation to a special stage collab for an upcoming award show. 

The deal breaker?

You had complete control over the collab, in terms of inviting who you wanted to join you. The show executives arranged a meeting with you and requested you made it into a ‘star studded’ stage if possible. You had said yes, cause why the fuck not? It was the perfect opportunity for promoting the newest song, and you needed clout at the end of the day in this crazy industry. 

The process of recruiting people was tricky, you decided. Especially without the assistance of a whole team or management behind your back. You had many friends, no secrets there. Male and female idols alike from numerous groups in the industry. 

But the condition had been ‘star studded’ to the point that would get the whole industry and tabloids talking. So you were forced to start ranking your friends on a popularity poll. 

And as much as you tried to be objective and not a rude friend, the end result had been obvious before you even started researching. Your most famous friends were at the end of the line; BTS. 

Now you were in the position of how to ask two of your boyfriend’s groupmates to perform a very, sexual and questionable song with you live on stage in front of his face. 

You had tried to the ends of your abilities to try and switch Taehyung’s schedule with his manager and personal team, to the point of nearly whining like a literal child with the manager and begging for him to have time to practice with you. But, alas, it had been a fruitless try. He was packed with personal schedules and was not able to change the schedule for your dance.

Sighing to yourself in misery, you took a look around the HYBE canteen around you and instead tried to admire the vast space, grey wall and floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the entirety of Yongsan district to your view.  

The coffee had been very tasteful when you first ordered it. But the amount of time sitting here had watered it down like any other iced coffee. You were a self-appointed caffeine addict and were picky with your choice of drinks even if they ended up being the same ones. But you had been impressed knowing they were experienced baristas hired to work in the canteen’s coffee bar rather than just random part-timers. 

Quantity over quality, you supposed. Even for coffee making. 

The surrounding people were only staff, to your understanding. All are either working or eating lunch with colleagues. Some had greeted you in passing, but not other idols in sight. 

Finally determined, you made up your mind before chickening out and wrote a quick text to Taehyung about his whereabouts. He was always quick at replying when it came to you, saying, ‘Lounge with jk, jm and Hobi Hyung.’

With that, you packed away your things and made your way toward their private lounge. 

The current company you were signed with hade made HYBE their new home after its finished renovations. It had been a positive change for you as a small solo artist, as well as your relationship with Taehyung. The company building was large enough for both of you to be at work at the same time without feeling forced to be in each other’s presence every day. 

Both of you had the freedom to work by yourselves and see each other when the need for a quick cuddle, lunch, or coffee date arose and go separate ways again. It was the ideal setting for your secret relationship. 

Arriving at the massive, private practice room labeled for BTS - you walked through the empty space littered with some of their personal belonging before entering the closed door of their lounge, greeting the sight of the four men relaxing in various places around the room on their phones. 

“Hey Y/N.”

“How’s it going, Y/N?”

“Hey, beautiful.”

Returning the greetings warmly, you dropped down next to Taehyung on the couch with a peck on his cheek as his hand laced through yours naturally, lifting it to his mouth for a soft caress. 

“Were you working on something?” Jimin glanced at the laptop you put on the table, as well as your poorly hidden disgruntled appearance. 

“...just figuring something out,” you replied vaguely, casually trying to glance around the room and get a sense of the mood they were in. 

They all seemed to be in a relatively good one, so maybe it was your chance to ask them about it. 

“Actually guys…” leaning forward, they all turned their attention to you. “Are any of you free to do a collab stage with me for the upcoming award show?”

“Why not Taehyungie hyung?” Jeongguk questioned what you had expected to begin with.  

“I’m too busy,” he replied, rubbing an apologetic hand on your back, but you already understood him. 

“What kind of collab?” Hoseok asked. “I’m a bit busy working on some songs with Yoongi hyung right now.”

“It’s a dance collab to my new song, you know the one I showed you guys a few weeks ago.”

Jimin lurched up from his lounging position with a giggle. “You mean that crazy, sexy song? Taehyungie said it gave him bedroom vibes.”

The two men proceeded to share a snicker at the memories as you rolled your eyes good-naturedly in return. “Yes, the very sexy song - which is why I asked you guys, 'cause you’re basically like brothers to me so it wouldn’t be awkward.”

“That’s not exactly how you ask us to perform a sexy collab with you, Y/N,” Jeongguk pointed out with an amused tilt of his lips. “I’m sure that’s illegal.”

“Oh shut up, you know what I meant,” you whined in return, collapsing back into Taehyung’s chest as he chuckled at your expense, hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his side - an action that always made your stomach flutter not matter the time spent together. 

“Sure, I’ll do it - I’m not too busy besides the usual work we do before an award show,” Jimin offered with a grin. “How many people do you need?”

With a thankful grin, you then turned to the youngest, “Two?”

He returned the look knowingly before giving in quickly. “Fine, I’ll do it - just because it’s you, Y/N.”

“You’re the best!” With a cheer, you jumped up to hug them both tightly. 

“What’s the choreography like?” It was Hoseok who had asked in interest as your smile slightly dropped hesitantly. 

“It’s…uhm, emotional?”

At their quizzical looks, you couldn’t help but flush slightly in embarrassment. “Uh, you can watch it on the laptop, it’s unlocked,” you said before quickly addressing your boyfriend. “Tae, can we talk?” 

Before he or the others could comprehend, you had pulled him out of his seat and out the door inside the empty practice room. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I just wanted to check if you were alright with all of this.”

His confused look eased the slight pressure you felt. “About the collab?”

“Well yeah,” you scratched the back of your neck sheepishly. “You remember I told you it was quite a mature concept.”

He must have sensed the anxiety as you spoke those words because Taehyung pulled you into a hug before pressing a soft kiss on your lips which you returned almost gratefully. 

“Y/N, I’m okay. So all you need to do is concentrate on that performance and do your best. Don’t worry about me, really.”

Resting your head against his chest, you sighed happily. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too,” he laughed softly, pecking the top of your head.

+

Taehyung couldn’t believe that the one time he lied his fucking ass off would be to your face. But following the current dry rehearsal to the upcoming collaboration between you and two of his brothers, made him consider if it was a mistake to lie. 

To be completely honest with himself, he had been against it the moment you had mentioned it in the lounge and he knew where it was going. Was he against it because it happened to be his group mates? Of course not, he trusted them with his life and they were among the few people that knew about his relationship with you. 

Was it the fact that someone else got to put their hands on parts of your body that only he was privileged to? Fuck yes. 

The only reason he had decided to lie to your face and encouraged you to do it was due to the reminder of your excitement months ago - When you had basically come to him running with a childlike grin full of excitement and babbled off about this new outline you had to a song and the mature concept that you couldn’t wait to try out for the first time in your career. 

Taehyung had always considered himself to be a supportive boyfriend and fellow artist, but he never realized how fucking hard it would be to watch you grind against someone on the floor that wasn’t him. 

If it weren’t for it being Jimin and Jeongguk, he probably would have jumped on stage and pried you away from them. But BTS were praised for their professionalism for a reason - they all knew to separate personal lives from work, and the performance was just that; work. 

But this was also the only time Taehyung felt himself getting annoyed over how amazing performers they both were. With their gazes roaming your body, hands clutching at your hips and thighs, he could have been convinced they were ready to fuck your brains out. 

It didn’t help that your stage outfit consisted of a skimpy glittering, nude bodysuit with a thong that showed off that perky ass and your smooth legs wearing a pair of stilettos he was sure would break any other normal person’s ankles dancing like you were. 

Jeongguk and Jimin wore silky satin shirts in black and white respectively matching the glittering fabric on your body, and black jeans belted around their hips. The clothes were made to show off the sensual, silhouettes of your bodies and add to the sexual tension showcased on stage. Their shirts also happened to be unbuttoned at the top to show off a teasing amount of skin. 

The only positive thing he could take away from this was that your bodysuit was a high neck and was long-sleeved, but its skin-tight quality didn’t help in his brain. 

But all he could do was stand and watch blankly - playing the role of a fellow artist and not a jealous boyfriend. 

“Wow, she really went all out this time,” Hoseok praised, watching the performance intently with the eyes of a fellow dancer. Damn his hyung, and his ability to objectively watch a performance that was making his own dick hard. 

“Mhm,” the mumble was all he managed to reply with.

The original choreography had only lasted a minute or so including the male dancers in your music video - but because it was such a rare and special collaboration, you had lengthened the performance and added more choreography to make the stage more worthwhile. 

He understood why. It wasn’t often BTS accepted collaborations at award shows, especially not on their own home turf with the hateful scrutiny of the public and fans alike. As well as the notorious rule of not interacting with the other sex, besides professional greetings. 

The last run of the dry rehearsal started again while he was lost in his thoughts, and Taehyung snapped his focus back on the stage as the song started over with you kneeling on the floor, before snapping your thighs open and the BTS duo smoothly slid in on each side of you, grinding their bodies against you as you sang effortlessly into the mic taped against your cheek, returning their smoldering gazes. 

‘1, 2, 3, 4 You, I, Live, For 1, 2, 3, 4 Watch me, Burning, Screaming

Boy, cause you You got me layin’ low You got me layin’ low

My tears are running down Such a bad habit, boy’

Your solo dance break in the middle had actually been the strongest struggle of his yet to date. The way Taehyung had fought to not react more than a raise of his eyebrows, watching you rolling around on the floor, your ass in the air and sensual body rolls that sent his mind right into the gutter. 

Releasing a low groan that could be interpreted as exhaustion by those around him, Taehyung let out a long sigh, tongue poking the side of his cheek to showcase an air of nonchalance. The rehearsal was finishing up in a few minutes so with a casual stretch of his legs, he spoke to Hoseok. 

“Gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”

Hoseok stared at him with a long, knowing look, brow flicked up with a smirk. “Oh yeah? Your stomach must hurt real bad, huh?”

Knowing he was already busted, Taehyung played along. “Horrible actually, might take a while.”

Hoseok glanced casually to the side at the crew and staff getting ready to clean up and prepare for their own rehearsal before shaking his head. “You got twenty minutes.”

He knew if he was a minute late, the dance leader would kick his ass ten times over. 

Taehyung returned the smirk with a shrug while walking backward. “More than enough for me.”

+

“You did good.”

Snapping your head up from your mindless scrolling on your phone, Taehyung was standing in the doorway of your dressing room, hands lazily in the pockets of his dark forest green suit pants. Black curly hair strands framed his face, and looking outwardly handsome as he always did. 

You grinned proudly at the compliment. “Thank you, babe! Jeongguk and Jimin were crazy quick at picking up choreo, like-”

He walked inside leisurely, closing the door behind him. The sound of the lock clicking in place made your eyes glance in the direction of one of his hands behind his back.

“-not that I was even worried to begin with, it’s them after all,” you continued slowly, slightly tensing up at the flat look on his face and straightening up on the leather couch.  

“They looked great. You all did,” Taehyung agreed. 

Your brain was whirring in your head, not sure how to depict his current mood. At first, you thought he was angry - but taking a closer look it seemed more like a fleeting annoyance. 

Slightly fumbling with the half-folded blanket on your lap, you let your confusion show. “Is everything okay?”

His tongue swiped across his upper lip in what you assumed was a nervous action before he spoke, a voice deeper than you expected to hear. “No, I’m quite pissed off actually.”

Not having been a person to ever take bullshit from someone, especially not your own boyfriend with his unreasonable mood, you replied back with a flat voice. “I can see that. And you better have a damn good reason, especially because of the agreement we had before this.”

But rather than speaking, Taehyung suddenly stalked closer and dropped to his knees before you, causing your back to completely straighten as your eyes widened from anger to shock and trying to read him. 

Throwing the blanket aside, he parted your legs with his large hands and pressed closer before muttering. “I’d rather show you.”

Okay, so angry wasn’t the only thing he felt, you realized. 

With a surprising firmness he hadn’t used on you often, his hand wrapped around your throat from the front and yanked you into a bruising kiss that made your breath hitch. His tongue parted your lips impatiently, teeth clashing for a moment before caressing your own tongue as your eyes fluttered shut and a small sigh parted from you.

Your burning annoyance was always so easily extinguished and melting into the tingling want, your boyfriend was expertise in coaxing forward with a single touch of his tongue anywhere on your body. 

From splaying across your neck, the same hand went up underneath your jawline and forcefully pried you away from him as you stared back with a clouded gaze, still recovering from the aggressive kiss. His fresh breath fanned across your lips in what seemed like a teasing caress. 

“Tae…” the whisper from you came out breathless. You wanted to stop him because this was public. Even with the door locked, it wasn’t soundproof as you heard several muffled voices walking passed the door. But it was hard for you to breath, let alone speak at this point.

“Thought I wouldn’t mind, did you?” He muttered back, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against the column of your throat as your eyes fell back shut, swallowing back a hum. “Thought I’d play the perfect boyfriend while watching you grind against my friends in front of me, huh?”

A low whine escaped from his onslaught of sensual kisses against your skin, some firmer than others. 

A reprimanding hiss from between his breath accompanied by a gentle nip made you nearly stutter. “Answer me properly.”

“Yes,” you breathed out harshly. “Thought you were fine.”

“Hmm,” Taehyung hummed before you felt a smirk and goosebumps peppered your skin with his next words. “Then I’ll just have to remind you.”

Without a single pause, he straightened up and gripped your ankles, pulling you forward with surprising strength as the back of your head rested on the back of the couch, your bare legs over each of his shoulders and spread wide apart for his eyes. 

Dark brown eyes were taking in your stage outfit with a hungry expression. Licking his lips, he came closer, mouth forming a path up your inner thighs as your chest heaved in anticipation. Experienced hands popped open the buttons of your bodysuit, revealing the thin nude thong underneath already damp and darkening the fabric. 

“Always so quick to get wet for me,” Taehyung’s deep voice scratched against his throat in satisfaction.

Too impatient and short on time, his kisses finally reached their intended target, pressing firmly against your mound and over your underwear as his tongue came out, licking a stripe up your pussy. Not bothering with his usual favorite pastime of teasing and edging you - Taehyung began mouthing at the fabric covering your clit.

Your breaths turned positively erratic with the way you tried to keep your sounds down to a minimum and not alert anyone on the other side of the door. Your hands finally flew up to grip at his perfectly styled hair, pulling at the strands desperately as he continued his ministrations, your panties already soaked and ruined. 

Almost leisurely, he pulled the offending fabric aside and leaned forward to suck against your clit with a pleased hum as a high-pitched moan managed to tear from you, your spine tensing in slight fear from the volume. The pleasure pulsing through your lower body was making you sweat in anticipation. The sudden warning scrape of his teeth against your mound made your eyes flicker down to meet his own raised to watch you. 

“Let me hear you, princess,” he separated away from you long enough to utter those words before going straight back. 

“But Tae-” your words turned into a moan at the feeling of a finger pressing inside of you, easily finding your g-point with its familiarity and length. 

“That’s it, baby, let me hear who you belong to,” Taehyung praised, tongue moving in and flicking in synchronization with his fingers, your thighs tensing around his shoulders and head. 

With one finger holding the fabric of your panties to the side as the other continued slipping in and out, a second one following quickly making you twitch and stutter out a breath of his name. His fingers started pumping in and out almost vigorously, the obnoxious sound of your wetness being the loudest sound in the room as your breathing increased, gripping his hair even harder, nails digging into his scalp as Taehyung groaned at the sensation. 

"Fuck, you're dripping all over," he moaned, teeth scraping against your skin as his thumb returned to your clit with new fervor.

The added sensation made your moans louder, hips moving, intensifying the pleasure flaring up inside. His fingers dragging against your inner walls made it even harder to resist as you felt your resolve falling.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You didn’t know who you were talking to, the words falling out in a breathless mutter as Taehyung continued to fuck you with his long fingers. You could feel it coming, body gradually losing control - mindlessly trying to chase that feeling of completion as he had to pin your hips down against his mouth, grabbing both of your asscheeks tightly to hold you still. 

His thumb rubbing at your clit oh so skillfully was making your mind hazy. Taehyung was feeling it too - the way your whole body was starting to tense. Thighs shaking as you begged him to finish it. His dick was so fucking hard while kneeling on the ground that he could almost come just from the motions of your continuing to rub up against his mouth. 

"Cum for me, princess."

There was that damned name again. The moment he uttered the sentence, you felt your orgasm wash over you, walls clenching the thread of control snapping as your body trembled and tried to muffle the cries by biting down on your lip. But Taehyung wouldn’t let her. He continued to draw out your pleasure, fingers slowing down and thumb circling slower. 

Your chest was heaving, trying to catch your breath with strands of hair plastered to the sweaty skin. 

His fingers slipped out as you watched him lift them up to his mouth, sucking the taste of you clean with a pleasing hum, as you stared intensely at the erotic sight. 

“Delicious,” he mumbled.

You genuinely thought he was done ravishing you, but as he stood up and started to undo the belt around his hips, the pounding of your clit flared up again in anticipation. 

“Come here, baby.”

With slightly stiff legs, you obeyed him and stood up. The tall heels still strapped to your feet gave you the extra advantage as you were only an inch away from being eye level with him. 

As your bodies brushed up against each other, Taehyung didn’t have to worry about your balance, well aware of the levels of your flexibility even in heels as he grabbed your right leg and wrapped it nice and tight around his hipbone. You leveraged yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck as he reached down to press the head of his freed cock against your hole. 

“Fuck, need you so bad,” he muttered almost in pain and followed with a relieved groan as he bottomed out with your breath stuttering along. 

You don’t know how you managed to stay firm in those stilettos heels as Taehyung began to fuck you in earnest, not holding back as your nails dug into his skin and his own hands kept you balanced by cupping your ass that would bruise later. 

Your thighs were burning in their position, but you had no fucks to give with the way you were losing your mind at his rough, shallow thrusts, meeting each of your low moans as your head fell forward into the nape of his shoulders, kissing and sucking the skin to keep your mouth occupied. 

Suddenly you were airborne, Taehyung having lifted you up as both of your legs wrapped his hips and found a new position as he pressed you against a free space of the wall, forcing your head up against and kissing you messily. 

You thought he was fucking you earlier? Now with the new leverage of the wall against your back, he was ready to demolish you. 

His hips and skin slapping against yours were making you dumb of any thoughts, the restrain of remaining silent gradually slipping away as your moans went from low to who-the-fuck-cares. 

Your face was morphed in constant pleasure as you were turning positively desperate. “Tae, Tae…please, need to cum!”

You knew your positions were in the same boat with the way he didn’t even bother to tease you any longer, only moaning himself as he nodded. “Shit, me too, baby, me too…cum for me alright. Be a good girl and cream yourself on my cock.”

One of his hands went to your clit, rubbing it as he continued to pound into you without mercy. And this time the thread didn’t simply snap, it splintered into pieces, your orgasm seemingly endless and spreading down to your toes and stomach as you stiffened, legs shaking as you whined. 

Taehyung followed quickly, as your cunt fluttered around his cock, groaning and moaning into your open mouth as his hips stuttered and slowed down. Minutes must have passed as both of you calmed down, when a light knock came on the door, startling you both and sending panic through your still-intertwined bodies. 

But then Jimin’s voice called out in obvious amusement. “You got five minutes to clean up, Kim Taehyung.”

“You told him!?”

“Of course not,” Taehyung grinned sheepishly. “But Hobi hyung probably did.”

“You should have worn a condom to avoid this mess,” you frowned in reply, glancing down before meeting his apologetic gaze. 

“Sorry, baby. I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

“Obviously,” was your dry, yet amused response as he finally put you down and you stumbled towards the makeup table and grabbed a pack of wet tissues. 

As you both finished cleaning up, you couldn’t help but shove him in slight annoyance. “The next time you feel like being jealous, tell me honestly, idiot.”

With an innocent smile, he pulled you into a snuggly hug, voice muffled against your neck. “But baby, I love our jealous, angry fucks.”

You couldn’t disagree as you grumbled. “At least give me a warning next time.”

Straightening back up, he pecked your still-swollen lips with sparkling eyes. “Deal.”

_______________

How’s that for a little comeback? lmao

[iamdizzy]

📅 06/06/24

Last few days have been very busy. However, I was able to accomplish a lot. It's so weird to be in such control over my life as I, at least in the past, have never had such productive weeks.

📋 Things I've completed:

my running streak is still going! 🎉 the 5:30 am grind is real. love how it became a routine that's almost second nature for me.

more ancient greek 🏛️. at times I feel quite slow, but I do make progress (which I am tracking). I guess it's just part of the process to be patient, even though I'd love to be fluent at the end of the year - which is impossible I suppose

i also kept reading literature for my upcoming bachelor thesis next term. it feels good to already be working on it, even if it's "just" reading all the material for it

i also found topics for my upcoming assignments. guess that will be something I have to work on, beginning now, to at least have some leisure time after the term is over.

Even though I am very proud of myself (and yes, I need to tell me that more often) I still want more. What exactly that more is? Well I'd love to learn to play the piano, even if it's just for 15/30mins in the evening. Idk, I'm quite hesitant to add another thing onto my list of daily tasks, as I have the fear that, at some point, it will become too overwhelming for me to get through them.

[seafoamreadings]

week of july 16th, 2023

aries: not the best news for your sign this week with your ruling planet opposing saturn and the sun squaring the nodes. you'll feel almost certainly held back in some way, or several ways, and slow going is not known to be an aries favorite. just try to relax into it. things speed back up later.

taurus: your ruling planet goes retrograde this week. it can be hard for natural venusians such as yourself, especially during the first and last few days. but it can also be exciting, and you can make it a relaxing self care event if you insist on putting yourself first, which is only right for such an earthly incarnation of aphrodite herself.

gemini: naturally you have an ability, actually a gift, for being able to enjoy small and flirtatious things even in heavy and weird times. actually you can turn chaos into magic, without even trying. it's great, but others will find it grating at this time, so don't be too flamboyant about it until the sun is well into leo (where it ingresses later on this week).

cancerians: this week has a new moon in your sign and then boom, leo season begins. the spotlight is off of you, which will suit many cancerian people who like to be quietly at home, and now your finances get a cool stroke of luck somehow.

leo: while cancer season tends to be relaxing and calm and restorative, the end of this one was a bit tough if not downright harrowing. after the cancer new moon this week, your own leo season begins, and things get both more fun and more glamorous.

virgo: i almost hate to break it to you but this week is either chaotic or painful (or both?) in your close and committed relationships. i say "almost" hate because ultimately the outcome is FREAKISHLY productive/constructive and all in your highest good, and that of your partner or whomever else is included in this construction.

libra: what does venus retrograde in leo bring for you? most likely your aesthetics and partnerships that are already sealed are pretty solid, although if they've been tumultuous they may take the opportunity to disintegrate. what's shifting really is your social scene, the acquaintances around you and your network at large. evaluate the status of these things in your life and mine them for insight.

scorpio: the whole week has a watery and ominous tone. the best advice right now for you is to recede from the limelight. sometimes the sultry air benefits you but for now and the rest of the summer (winter in the southern hemisphere) it functions much better in private.

sagittarius: you may need to go farther out of your way than some others to make sure venus retrograde doesn't get you down. that's ok, do what it takes. try to focus on yourself even when that advice gets to be its most annoying, and as much as possible also work on quietly expanding your mind.

capricorn: your yearly partnership new moon is incoming. you can find a business partner if that's what you really want, or the lustier capricorns ruled more by the god pan find long term lusty companions. or at least they're seeking them. the finding depends on personal factors, but as this moon waxes it's a great time to start looking.

aquarius: for good reason, venus retrograde is associated with love stuff. but for you in particular the focus is on committed relationships - and it doesn't fully let up until october. what partnerships (do or would) bring you pleasure? which are more of a ball and chain? what can be done about it all? start asking now, and hopefully in a couple months your answers are settled.

pisces: there's much to affect you all week so watch the transits closely. in many ways it affects you in muted tones. meanwhile the retrograde of venus does get your daily routines and may have you feeling that the magic has receded from the mundane. in truth it has not, and no one is better at seeing the spirit within the seemingly inanimate than you are.

[blarrghe]

Shop talk! I know you're currently doing the whole writing and posting thing differently than before - like the whole thing is written, you're just editing and posting once a week. So what do you think of that? Do you prefer it over how you worked previously? Does it depend on the fic??

And how much editing are we talking? Both in terms of words changed as well as time spent on it? Do you do editing the next chapter for a whole week? Are you constantly editing all upcoming chapters??

Thanks for the ask! I love talking about this stuff :) Sorry for the obscenely long answer.

So it's the first time I've done that, and now that I'm in the posting part I am liking it a lot. I like the structure, I look forward to Wednesdays, I feel like I gathered a little bit of an audience that is there weekly with me as well, which is nice for everyone. I don't know if it makes any difference to people in terms of engagement if they hear that its completed in advance or see it posting regularly, but idk if it was me as a reader I would appreciate the regularity so I hope people do. At least one person has told me they're waiting to read it until it's finished/waited to start until it was over half posted, idk if I'll suddenly get new readers when its up in full or what but I def understand that. But yeah! The posting weekly thing has been nice. It feels productive even if I actually don't do a ton of writing every week.

Actually writing the thing took like two years though, specifically because there was absolutely no gratification to it haha. I didn't really even post wip snippets or talk about it much, because I wanted to keep my secrets. I was writing either Matchsies or A Complicated Match still when I had the idea and started plotting, so part of it taking so long is also that I was dividing my attention, and devoting more of it to the ongoing stuff I was actually posting. But I started this fic with the intention of letting it be a slow side-burner project so that I could make it "really good" by the time it went up. And that was a good call, because I did a lot of re-writes and re-structuring to elements of it, especially some of the early chapters, when I got further into the plot. To be clear, it's had the same outline all along, but there were connecting details that didn't work, like logistical travel time things that would have been glaringly annoying if I'd posted the first drafts of the first few chapters before writing the later ones. Also I re-vamped Sylvanna's character really early on into a more major role. She wasn't originally a bodyguard! Or really a main element of the story at all. Absolution came out at some point and I got Ideas.

Anyway, a lot of the editing that went into the fic before I started posting was pretty major, but by the time I was ready to actually start posting everything was much more concrete. I tend to edit the next chapter in the days before it goes up, and right before posting, mainly just for little details. But I try to give myself some distance and not overdo the constant editing so that when I do look at it right before posting I have some fresher eyes, right now I haven't looked at the next chapter (lying, I read it last night, but not from an EDITOR standpoint) in a couple weeks and I plan to put on editor glasses tomorrow morning before I post it. A big part of the editing that is ongoing is for how the prose reads, like I might come up with some gorgeous metaphor or re-do how a scene is described but keep the content the same. You get better all the time as a writer, so it's just about getting the Good Copy as Good as I can before it goes up. Every now and then I have a genius thought and go stick it in where it fits. Every now and then I also delete stuff or have a genius thought that doesn't actually fit and stick it in "CUT CONTENT" on the bottom of the doc. There's some Taren-perspective Bher stuff in there that didn't work with how I structured Ch. 20, for example. I was thinking for a sec I'd re-write that whole chapter and do a flashback chapter for him but it did not suit the flow at all and I only got a couple paragraphs in and then just... added like two lines of Taren Thoughts to get the point across instead haha. I also cut a couple chapters in half but didn't change them (19 and 20 are an example, which is also why a ch. 20 rewrite did not work.)

The most major edits I've made have been to the last two chapters, mainly to add in a few new ideas I had or to tie up loose ends I realised I was still leaving. I haven't majorly changed any of what was going to happen, it's more just me trying to really nail those last chapters. I am also constantly re-reading it in full (sometimes making minor tweaks to names in the narration ;) and also boring stuff like punctuation). I'll post a chapter and immediately get excited for the next one and go read from that point to the end...

There's also a "secret" epilogue that I wrote, really liked, and then cannibalized and entirely re-wrote like, yesterday. I wasn't initially sure I'd even post it but now I definitely will. So stay tuned for that ;)

[oliviax727]

Language Update #1

I'm writing this post on the day my duolingo streak has reached 30. Combine that with rosetta stone, and I've done approximately 10 hours of language learning total, or 20 mins/day.

Now it hasn't all been exactly 20 mins per day, some days it's a lot less, some days it's a lot more, but what I also have to add is that I only did 10 days of rosetta stone.

Duolingo vs Rosetta Stone

Generally, I've found that duolingo has been better for my education than rosetta stone. Yes, the funny bird app works better than the "serious" language course. Here's a few reasons why:

Flexibility

Rosetta stone is not very flexible. It's very rigid in it's structure. You are typically required to spend 30 minutes per day on learning, 5 days a week.

Not just that, but you don't really have much options outside of progressing forward, there are auto-planned revision, speaking, reading, writing, and listening lessons.

This, at least to me, is unsustainable.

There are going to be a lot of days where I won't have the time, capacity, or drive to do much learning.

Often I want to change what I'm doing. Instead of continuing forward, I might want to brush up on speaking or revise previous words etc.

With duolingo, the only requirement is that I learn for at least a 3-minute lesson each week. And I don't even need to do a lesson, I could choose that time to review a previous one for example.

Encouragement to Learn

You might think that a minimum of 3 minutes a day is not substantial to learning a language.

Duolingo is gamified, it is full of these little jingles, and animations, that hit your brain right in the dopamine pathway. It's addictive, and that's a good thing.

It encourages you to keep going, to motivate yourself to do more. I end up spending an average of 10 minutes a day thanks to this. Which is much more manageable than 30 minutes.

Rosetta stone on the other hand is slow and cumbersome. It feels like it takes longer to complete a lesson and often becomes a bore. In everything, from the speed of the animations, to how long it takes to turn on the microphone ....

Overwhelming Pace

When learning, well, anything that involves memory, the best way to do it is not to overdo it. You need to be constantly going back and reinforcing old ideas and terms.

Rosetta stone throws waay too much in your face too quickly, and then because it did so much, it can't take the time to allow you to go back and revise.

One day, I 'learned' about 25 words and 3 new grammar rules in a few minutes, most not related to eachother in the sense you could put them in a sentence. Then the next 3 days I did not see most of those words come back up again until suddenly I get introduced to more words.

Duolingo has done something similar, but it did it in a better way. When you're exposed to a barrage of new words, either:

A) It's made very clear that you don't need to remember the word right now, and it's just to pad sentences into looking "normal"

B) Exercises involving that word are repeated, again and again, so you are sure to remember it

When duolingo threw me into the deep end, it was often productive. I learned how to read sentences and piece together their meaning via context clues - even if I didn't know every word in the sentence.

Unclear Instructions, Help, and Translations

I'm certain that a baby could use duolingo. It's not too difficult to understand what the app is asking you to do.

Not just that, but duolingo offers a lot in lieu of translations, they incorporate translations in five ways:

Exercises asking you to translate phrases in Spanish into English

Exercises asking you to translate phrases in English into Spanish

After you answered a question in Spanish, your answer will be translated into English

You can tap/click on a word in English to reveal its translation

You can tap/click on a word in Spanish to reveal its translation

The first two are common ways in which duolingo tests your knowledge, or introduces new concepts to you. The middle one is a way of giving you conformation "oh good I said what I meant".

The last two act as hints, to be used when you're struggling or decipher a specific word's meaning.

Rosetta stone, on the other hand, does not offer any translation aid. In fact, there are no translations involved at all in the app.

Not just that, but in the 10 days I've used rosetta stone, I did not see a single English word within lessons at all (of course the app's interfacing and menus use English).

So how do you learn Spanish? Via images.

Now, given that the app's goal is to teach natural language acquisition, it makes sense. Because it prevents the ability for your mind to immediately back-translate new phrases and words.

The disadvantage is that it prevents the ability for your mind to immediately back-translate new phrases and words, a rather crucial step in learning a new language I'd argue.

Oh, and, using images only is severely limited when it comes to teaching you words that are:

Dynamic verbs (e.g. running)

Abstract verbs (e.g. want)

Abstract words in general (e.g. is, this, that)

Prepositions and tense

Adverbs

Abstract nouns or adjectives

Most grammar rules

This is probably the straw that broke the camel's back. Especially because there's no way to confirm that what you think a word means is what it actually means (as there are no translations).

Pricing

Duolingo is free, and has a 2 week free trial of its premium version (I recommend subscribing to premium). This allows you to try the app, and pull out if you don't want to learn the language or want to switch.

Rosetta stone charges you upfront for 3 months of use. No trial, no nothing.

Not to mention that super duolingo is less expensive than basic rosetta stone, on a per-month basis.

Using two apps is just a bad idea

Surprisingly, using two apps is harder than one. Especially when both aren't equally flexible to time.

The problem isn't that they teach you different words at different rates ... I was learning approximately the same amount (outside of rosetta stone affomentionedly blasting me with new words).

The problem was that it becomes a bit overwhelming with the time and brainpower requirements.

It felt like rosetta stone was a time sink, preventing me from using duolingo more often and learning more productively. So I stopped using rosetta stone after the first 10 days.

Still won't get back that money though ...

What Have I learned?

Alright, so now for what I've actually learned.

Grammar

Generally I've learned a few decent grammar rules that are different to english. For example:

Grammatical gender is a thing, and more prevalent

Adjectives come after a noun

Está and es both mean the same thing, "is", but one describes temporary properties and the other describes static qualities

There are several words like "well", "too", "you", "I" that have several translations in Spanish

Verbs change based on what the subject is

Diacritics exist ...

Of course, things are slightly easy because I don't need to learn a different word order. It's still SVO like in English.

Really what throws me off the most is the fact that adjectives come after the word. That and the many different ways you can say "you" or "I". Other than that I've got a lot of grammar under control.

Currently I have not actually learnt tense in Spanish. But I will, actually tomorrow probably.

Other than that, gender is difficult to learn. Mainly because you cannot always use the "ends in a" vs. "ends in o" rule. For example you say el agua instead of la agua.

Words

There are many words in Spanish that are very similar in English, about 50% of them.

Because the amount of words I have learnt are small, I will list them, all! Which will be a great learning exercise for me.

Do not expect me to spell every word correctly - I can't even spell in English correctly without spellcheck.

Common Phrases (or components of phrases) Hola; Adiós; Gracias; De nada; Disculpe; Dónde; Qué; Por favor; Lo siento; Buenos días; Buenas noches; Como estás; Qué tal; Bienvenido; Vamos

Short/Simple Words Es/eres/soy, está/estás/estoy, ese, este, mi, yo, tú, tu, para, de, o, a, y, demasiado, bueno, hoy, un/una, el/la, él/ella, ellos/ellas, en, muy, aquí, sí, no

Verbs (in 3rd person form) Corre, lee, escribe, quiere, paga, compra, bebe, come, necesita, nada, tengo/tiene, habla, vive

Adjectives Azul, rojo, verde, marrón, gris, elegante, bonito, caro, cómoda, barato, bueno, inteligente, grande, cerrado, favorita, diferente

Nouns (Food) Pan, agua, leche, manzana, naranja, queso, huevo, tomate, carne, pescado, jugo, café, sándwich, hamburguesa, ensalada, chocolate

Nouns (People/Pets) Persona, niño/niña, mujer, hombre, hijo/hija, esposo/esposa, hermano/hermana, padre, madre, abuelo/abuela, gato, perro

Nouns (Places/Vehicles) Aeropuerto, hotel, hospital, restaurante, baño, banco, tren, autobús, carro, bicicleta, casa, calle, tienda, supermercado

Nouns (Apparel) Ropa, camisa, camiseta, reloj, cinturón, vestido, falda, chaqueta, abrigo, zapatos, pantalones, sombrero

Nouns (Objects) Vaso, taza, mesa, maleta, regalo, reserva, dinero, boleto, teléfono, pasaporte, cartera, videojuego

Other (Countries/Languages) Español, Inglés, Francia, España, Australia, America, Argentina

That should be about it. Obviously, some words in Spanish are direct translations in English, e.g. Australia, hospital, chocolate.

Pronunciation

I included them because while they are spelt the same, they may still be pronounced slightly differently.

Spanish is slightly easier in terms of pronunciation in the sense that vowels (without diacritics) are always pronounced the same way. This is why diacritics appear - as to tell a speak when to pronounce them differently.

Diacritics are always in the form of the uptick, á é í ó ú, with the only exception of ñ. Which genuinely changes how the n is pronounced.

For example, baño is pronounced "bahnyo" (depending on your own accent the h there may not be needed).

Conclusion

So, I'll be switching to exclusively using duolingo. I do intend on maintaining the streak for as long as possible, as at least it keeps me motivated for the rest of the day.

Outside of that, things are going well! I'm planning on surprising my grandmother with my newfound Spanish skills much earlier, by Christmas. Because I am afraid she might not be around by next year, depending on her health.

My next post will be at ... maybe 60 days? There'll be less information in the next post because there's less stuff to talk about.