#like for me it started when i was 12. i read a fic that described a decomposing body and it piqued my interest. got briefly obsessed with

[haemosexuality]

real question from a psychological standpoint why do some people like looking at gore. and true crime if theyre less, intense. like what goes on in the brain there

[thetriumphantpanda]

The Way You Miss Me | Joel Miller (Chapter One)

Joel is your Daddy's best friend and work colleague. One evening, when your dad has to work late and you've been babysitting Sarah, tequila emboldens you to tell Joel what you've always wanted to tell him.

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings | Smut, Oral (F Receiving), Protected PIV intercourse, age gap, nothing else I can think of but let me know if I've missed anything.

Word Count | 4.1K (I will not apologise)

Author's Note | So, back on my Joel Miller hype again. I've got plans to turn this into a multi-chaptered fic that spans the timeline of the show so if you liked this and want to read more let me know! Feel free to slide into my asks with feedback/love! Enjoy.

Read on AO3 here.

It was hot. Austin was having the hottest summer you could remember in years. You threw down the magazine you were attempting to read and stood up from the couch. There was no air in this damn house - you wondered how Sarah was sleeping upstairs. 

You checked the clock on the wall. 9:15pm. Joel was supposed to be home an hour ago. Not that you were complaining. The extra time spent babysitting Sarah meant more money Joel would hand over to you. You’d been babysitting for Joel since you finished your last semester at college. You were waiting to go back at the end of the summer to start your master’s programme and needed all the help you could get in boosting your savings. Your father had worked with Joel for years and when his last babysitter had left town, he’d offered you the opportunity which you were only too happy to take. 

Deciding to check on Sarah, you tiptoed up the stairs. You could hear soft snoring coming through the door. You silently cursed the teenager for her ability to sleep through the heat. You knew once your father picked you up it would be a sleepless night. Tossing and turning, sweating into the sheets. 

As you were walking back down the stairs you heard the telltale jangle of keys in the door and there he was. Joel Miller was quite possibly the most handsome man you’d ever laid your eyes on. Taller than you with broad shoulders and a face that you could only described as carved by the angels. Forget the fact he was 12 years your senior as well as one of your father’s closest friend, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want him. 

“Evenin’ Darlin’,” He spoke, dropping his keys on the entryway table, “How was Sarah?” 

“She’s fine, fast asleep upstairs,” You replied, reaching for your bag, “How she does it in this heat I’ll never know.” 

Joel chuckled as he pulled out his wallet, pulling out the wad of notes to hand over to you, “Sorry I’m late, the delivery was late this morning,” You gratefully accepted the money he handed over, folding into the back pocked of your shorts, “Your dad will be a bit later tonight, he had to stay on site but he’ll drop round and pick you up later.” 

You nodded and smiled at Joel, “No problem, do you mind if I sit outside and read?” 

“Be my guest, darlin,” Was his reply, “I’ll go and check on Sarah and come and join you, too damn hot to be cooped up in here.” 

Once he was bounding up the stairs two at a time, you reached into your backpack and picked up one of the books you needed to read for your upcoming course. You settled yourself in one of the chairs on Joel’s back porch, folding your legs up underneath you to get comfortable. You’d only read a few pages when the back door opened and Joel appeared with two glasses in hand, one filled with ice and an amber liquid you knew would be whiskey and the other which he handed to you.

“What is it?” You asked, folding the corner of your page to mark your place before taking the glass.

“Tequila and pineapple,” He replied, “I remembered it was what you liked from the cookout last month.” 

You smiled, sipping the ice-cold drink, “Very perceptive Mr Miller.” 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, the only sound was the slight tinkling of ice against glass as you sipped your drinks. 

“How much longer do you have until you leave for school?” 

“About another month,” You spoke, “Although I decided against moving out from home, cheaper to stay living with my dad and it’s a master’s degree so I shouldn’t expect to have much of a social life anyway.” 

“You didn’t want to run away to another city again?” Joel pried, referencing the three years you’d spent in California getting your undergraduate degree. 

“Strangely no, the University of Texas has exactly the course I wanted, if I don’t have to move away then I won’t,” You shrugged, “Contrary to popular belief I like living at home with my dad,” you punctuated talking with a drink, “Sure he works long hours and at this point I spend more time with Sarah than I do with anyone else, but I like it here.” 

“So if you’re staying, you think you’d be able to carry on a few evenings a week with her?” Joel asked, “We’ve got a big job coming in September, she’ll be back at school so it’ll just be evenings, but she’s really taken to you darlin’.”  You smiled, “I’ve really taken to her as well Joel, she’s a lovely girl,” you took another sip of your drink, realizing it was going down far too easily, “Of course I’ll help out, I should get my timetable soon so I can let you know when I’ll have time.” 

Joel did nothing but nod, finishing his whiskey with a final drink, “You want another?” he asked, gesturing to the dregs of your drink in the bottom of your glass, “Your dad said he would call when he was leaving, and I’ve not heard anythin’ so we’ve got time.” 

He was a hard many to decline, you extended your glass to him, “I suppose in that case it would be rude not to.” 

Joel was back quickly with your second round of drinks, handing it over to you before taking his seat once more. 

“Your dad said you were havin’ boy troubles…” Joel trailed off, “I don’t mean to pry.” He added quickly. 

You chuckled, “Can you call it boy trouble if you were never official you asked?” Scoffing into your drink before sipping, “I guess he just found someone else, didn’t even have the balls to call me, just text me and said he’d found someone he liked better.” 

If you hadn’t been intently listening, you’d have missed what he said, “Idiot.” 

“You can say that again.” You replied, looking Joel straight in the eyes. 

“Maybe you need a man and not a boy.” He offered as the solution. 

A lump appeared in your throat as well as the tell-tale sign of butterflies in your stomach, “Oh yeah?” You countered, emboldened by the tequila in your veins, “A man like you?”

“Darlin,” Joel began, you could tell he was having an internal battle with himself, “You don’t know what you’re saying.” 

“I’ve had two glasses of tequila Joel, I’m not wasted.” 

“That’s not what I was sayin’,” Joel countered, “I’m old and I’m your daddy’s best friend, that’s not what I was suggesting at all.”  “You’re 36 Joel, that’s not old,” You smirked, placing your book on the floor beside you, “And I’m 24, I’m old enough to make decisions about what I want.”  “I’m what you want?” He asked, “Really?” 

“Have you never noticed the way I look at you Joel?” You asked, “I have never met a man quite like you.” 

“You’re too kind darlin’,” Joel smirked and you could swear he was blushing, “Why don’t you come on over here and sit next to me?” 

He was gesturing to the empty space on the bench he had chosen to sit at. You don’t think you’d moved so fast in all your life. Within seconds you were sat next to him, glass abandoned on the floor by your old seat. You sat in a similar position to before with your legs wrapped underneath you, close enough that your heart was beating through your chest, but far enough away that you weren’t touching each other. 

Slowly you watched as Joel drained his second drink, putting the glass on the floor in a similar fashion to you, before reaching out to touch the skin on your leg. It was a soft touch, but it lit a fire within you. 

“Unwrap your legs baby,” Joel whispered, “Lay them out on my lap.” 

His hands were rough against the smooth skin of your ankles as he pulled them into the position he wanted. Resting on his lap with his hands running up and down as far as he could reach. Your breath was hitched so far into your throat that you were sure you would suffocate. 

“Joel,” was all you could managed to choke out at his touch, “Joel you need to kiss me.” 

You couldn’t quite believe what was happening. The man that you had been crushing on for years, who should be completely off limits, was caressing your legs, his hands moving closer to your thighs with each second. No man had ever had this effect on your – you were sure if either of you dipped your hands beneath your shorts, you’d be the wettest you’d ever been. 

“I need to kiss you?” Joel asked, his eyes boring right into your own, “Is that so?” 

So, he was a tease. Under any other circumstance you’d be delighted in knowing this. However, you knew you were on borrowed time. It was only a matter of time before his phone rang and your dad would be on his way to pick you up and you’d be damned if you were leaving here without knowing what it felt like to have his lips on yours. Or any other place on your body for that matter. 

“Joel I swear to God if you don’t put your lips on me I think I’m going to die.” 

“I don’t know what’s worse,” He murmured, “Having your dead body on my hands or having to look your dad in the eye knowing I’ve made out with his daughter.” 

Joel Miller and his smart fucking mouth. You could feel your arousal pooling in your lower stomach and you’d had enough. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and unceremoniously pulled him to you. For a man as large as Joel he moved with a grace you didn’t possess in that moment, landing right where you wanted him about an inch from your mouth. 

For what felt like an age the two of you stared at each other, Joel’s dark and hungry eyes looking directly into your soul. You felt his hand cup your cheek – his rough thumb making soft strokes to your skin before it was all over. 

Joel softly pressed his lips to yours and it was like you exploded. It was light, some would say barely there, but it was enough to ignite the fire within you. You ran one of your hands around the back of Joel’s neck, feeling the expanse of curls at the back of his neck before pulling him more firmly to you. Within seconds he was deepening the kiss and it was all open mouths and tongues. You bucked your hips up into his own, feeling a growing bulge in his jeans. 

Without thinking, your hands moved from being wrapped around Joel’s neck to resting at the top of his jeans. His mouth was overwhelming on yours and you couldn’t think straight but what you did know is that the sooner you got his clothes off the sooner you would be consumed by pleasure. 

“Slow down darlin’” Joel chuckled, finally pulling away from your mouth, “I can’t fuck you on my back porch for everyone to see now, can I?” 

A blush crept onto your cheeks at his brazen words. You had no idea where your brazen behavior had come from, normally shy and willing to please anyone. But Joel had you pinned down on a bench, legs spread to accommodate his hips and a growing hard on that you could feel through your shorts. He could actively invite the neighbors around to watch from the back lawn and you wouldn’t complain. All you knew was that you needed him. 

“Let them watch,” You managed to breath out, “I don’t care where you do it Joel or how for that matter, but if you don’t start taking my clothes off, I’m going to explode.” 

He took a moment to look into your eyes, almost as if he was trying to talk himself out of what was going to happen next. It was one thing to make out with his best friend’s daughter – he could chalk it down to whiskey and tequila and keep his distance from now on – but another thing entirely to strip her naked and plunge his cock into her until she didn’t know her name and the only thing she could ask was for more. 

“Get up.” Was all he said, standing up himself before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “Do you promise to keep quiet?” He asked. 

Words failed you so all you could do was nod in response, “If you promise to be a good girl and be as quiet as possible, then I’ll take you upstairs.” 

“I promise.”

Joel all but grabbed your hand, dragging you through the humid house and up the stairs as quietly as you could manage. Safely ensconced in his room you took a moment to take in the surroundings. Messy, just like it always had been when you’d peeked your head in to look at Joel’s space whenever he wasn’t around. The bed was unmade, like it usually was but none of it mattered. All that mattered and all you could focus on was Joel’s hand at the small of your back, pushing you towards the bed. 

“Lie down for me baby.” He whispered into your ear as you felt the loss of his hand. 

You did as you were told, getting onto the bed on your hands and knees to crawl up to the headboard, hoping and praying that Joel was focusing his eyes on your ass as you did so. Once you turned yourself around and propped yourself up on the pillows you could tell you’d had just the effect you wanted. 

“Jesus girl,” he moaned, undoing his belt and freeing it from the belt loops on his jeans, “I’m going to have to make a rule of no shorts in this house from now on, I’m never going to be able to look at you the same now.” 

A giggle erupted from your mouth at his words and you fumbled to undo the button of your shorts – immediate relief flooding your stomach as they loosened. 

You watched intently as Joel mimicked your move from before, crawling up the bed to settle in the space between your thighs. 

“Shall I tell you what I want to do, darlin’?” 

You nodded, reaching your arms out to slowly unbutton his shirt. 

“I’m going to take all these clothes off and then I want you to sit on my face, that okay with you?” You replied with a moan as the last button came undone, “And then, once I’ve got you nice and wet, I’m going to pin you down underneath me and fuck you until you don’t remember your name,” Another moan in reply as you slipped the shirt down his shoulders, Joel moving enough to take it off and discard it to the floor, “But you gotta remember to keep quiet baby, okay?” 

“I already promised, didn’t I?” You challenged, “Take my clothes off already Joel.” 

Like a rehearsed dance, it took next to no time for Joel to have you naked and spread out underneath him. 

“You look like a goddess, darlin’.” he breathed against your neck as his hands wandered down from your breasts to between your thighs, hovering just above where you really wanted those fingers.

If you hadn’t been so overwhelmed about the fact that his fingers were mere millimeters from your clit you probably would have curled up and died at his compliment. No-one had ever made you feel this way, like you were the only woman they ever wanted to look at. No-one was likely to come close to this again so you were trying to savour it the best you could. 

All of a sudden Joel had moved, he was on his back led next to you, “Come on darlin’, hop on up here.” 

You did as you were told, momentarily taking the time to straddle his hips before Joel used his hands to scoot you up until your pussy was spread and bare against his face.

“I said sit,” Joel murmured, “Not hover.” He used his rough hands to pull your hips down so that you were indeed sat right on his face. 

From that moment you were done for. Joel’s tongue licked long and slow stripes all the way from your entrance up to your clit. Every time the tip of his tongue hit your bundle of nerves your legs would shake but he wouldn’t focus there for more than a few seconds. It was driving you nuts. 

You moved your hips against his mouth and then grabbed a fistful of hair from between your legs to hold his mouth on your clit. Before a moan could leave your mouth you clapped a hand over your lips. Joel’s tongue was focused entirely on your clit with devastating consequences, you were unashamedly grinding against his tongue and every now and again a groad would echo through your body from Joel’s lips. 

“Oh my god Joel,” You whispered as quietly as you could manage, “I’m going to cum.” 

Joel stopped briefly enough to respond, “Good, let go for me baby.” 

That was all it took for you to come undone. Your legs clasped at the sides of his heads as your orgasm ripped through you, a hand yet again moving to cover your mouth to muffle the sound of your moans. Joel’s tongue continued flicking against your clit, sending aftershocks all the way up your body. 

“Such a good girl for me, doin’ exactly what I asked.” He spoke as you lifted yourself off and flopped down onto the bed, attempting to catch your breath. 

Joel had other ideas that didn’t involve resting and was quickly up and shedding himself of his jeans. You watched intently as his slipped his underwear off, you’re sure your eyes widened at the sight of his cock. Thick and long, almost uncertain that it would fit at all. 

He climbed back onto the bed, settling himself effortlessly between your thighs, “Look at you baby,” He breathed out, “All spread and waiting for me.”  He took a moment to reach into his bedside drawer and pull out a condom, tearing the packet open and fitting it on himself in the blink of an eye. 

He settled once again between your thighs, looking you directly in the eye as he rested his hands on either side of your face, “You ready for me baby?” He whispered. 

“I’ve never been more ready for anything.” 

He smirked down at you as he lined himself up with your dripping pussy. He slowly eased himself into you, centimeter by centimeter, watching closely for any signs of discomfort, but finding none. In fact, Joel almost fell apart as he watched you spread your legs wider for him. 

“Joel,” You mewed quietly as he bottomed out inside of you, “Fuck that feels good.” 

“Darlin’ you have no idea how good you feel around me,” He spoke, “I’m not gonna hold on for long.” 

In response all you did was grind your hips up into him, “I’m not going to break Joel, you need to start moving.” 

He did exactly as he was told and began pulling out and fucking into you in earnest. The stretch of his cock inside of you was heavenly and the growls falling from his mouth as he fucked you were overwhelming. 

“Touch yourself for me,” Came a demanding voice above you, “You can give me one more baby.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hand immediately focused in on your pussy, your fingers working your clit with that telltale feeling in your abdomen that told you it wouldn’t take much work to have you come undone again. 

“God you look fuckin’ perfect baby,” Joel moaned as his eyes fixed on your hand between the two of you, “I can feel you getting tight around me, you like that?” He asked, “You like my cock inside you?”  “Oh Joel,” You moaned, “I’ve never liked anything so much before.” 

“Go on baby, let go for me.”  It was like your brain was in his command – almost immediately you felt your pussy clench around his cock as you arched your back up into him. A hand flew to your mouth that wasn’t your own – Joel trying to keep you quiet so you didn’t wake Sarah up in the next room. 

“Fuckin’ hell baby,” Joel could barely speak, “You get so tight around me when you cum.”  You could feel him faltering, his thrusts were speeding up but they were messy and you knew he wasn’t going to hold on for much longer. 

“Joel,” Your voice was broken, “Joel, pull out and cum on my face.”  “Fuckin’ filthy baby,” Was his response but he did as he was asked, quickly pulling out and discarding the condom before straddling your chest, “You ready?”  All you could do was nod, watching with an open mouth as he jerked himself a few times before it was all over. Ropes of Joel’s warm cum hit your skin as a low moan left his mouth. He was still for a moment, eyes closed in ecstasy before opening them to look at you. 

“Pretty as a picture.” He spoke with a smirk. 

You smiled back, looking him dead in the eye as you ran your finger through some of the cum painted across your cheek, bringing your covered finger to your mouth. 

“I don’t think anyone has ever looked so good covered in my cum.” Joel said as he hopped off the bed and fetched a towel that was draped across the chair in the corner of his room. 

“You spend a lot of time finishing on women’s faces?” You chuckled, gratefully accepting the towel to clean yourself up. 

All of a sudden a high pitched chime filled the room, “Shit!” Joel exclaimed, “Where’s my fuckin’ phone?” 

He found it strewn on the floor next to his jeans, he answered quickly, “Hello?” Came his gruff voice, “Outside now?!” Joel’s eyes were wide open as your bliss was shattered, “Alright mate, no problem, she’ll be out in a little while.” 

He hung up the phone and flung it onto the bedside table as you scrabbled around the room for your clothes, “I can’t find my fucking panties.” You muttered, pulling your shirt over your head. 

“You haven’t got time darlin’,” Joel replied, throwing your shorts at you, “Put these on, hurry up.” 

If it wasn’t for the absolute terror that you dad was waiting outside for you, the way Joel was rushing you might have hurt – would he have led with you and whispered sweet things into your ear in the dark if you’d been able to stay? Or would he still be rushing you to get out and leave him alone? 

Once you were dressed and Joel had managed to throw something on as well, you were both bounding down the stairs. You picked up your bag and threw your sandals that you’d discarded earlier in the evening back onto your feet before taking a moment to catch your breath and smooth your hair. 

Just as you were about to head to the front door, Joel’s hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you flush to his body – he captured your lips in a kiss so passionate that you were even more breathless than you had been before. 

“Just know darlin’, if he wasn’t waiting outside for you, I’d wrap you up in my bed and never let you leave.” 

“That mean’s I can come back then?” 

“Of course,” another chaste kiss pressed to your lips, “Baby, you’ve got me in a spin but I’m not giving you up, not yet.” 

Then, with a swift slap of your ass, he was pushing you to the door. Keeping his distance as he watched you walk down the steps and climb into your dad’s truck he did his best to act normally. 

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her Joel!” Your dad called out of the window, “I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” 

Joel could see you sinking into your seat at your dad’s words, even through the car windows. 

“Oh not at all!” Joel called back, “Good as gold, as always!” 

You swear you saw that son of a bitch wink at you. Motherfucker. 

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[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tag @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @onthewaytosomewhere - it's always nice when I'm not kicking the week off lmao. I didn't get a lot of writing done this week because I was busy editing the Going Platinum podfic I posted today, but I've powered through so I have something to share!

Rockstar Alex is now officially fully epistolary, because I figured out how to get #3 from the five fun facts game into a fully epistolary format. If you are thinking to yourself, "Great! If it's fully epistolary then it can't hurt as much!" I would advise you to turn to your nearest Schitt's Creek fandom buddy who has read my fics in that fandom and ask them how they feel about chapter 5 of Meet me out at the end of my rope (aka angstapalooza), and calibrate accordingly 😈

SO. Below the cut is a little sneak peek of this with the skin on (and some bonus Reddit comments because when I go epistolary I go balls to the wall), but if you don't want to venture under the cut, enjoy the text version of an r/TIFU post:

TIFU by breaking my no-hookup rule Obligatory ‘this didn’t happen today’ but my friends are still making fun of me days later, so. I’m not a hookup/cruising kind of gay. Full respect to you if you are, it’s just never been my thing - I’m more of a serial monogamist type But it was my friend’s birthday last weekend and we all went out to a gay bar, and I ended up dancing with this guy who… honestly if I describe how off the charts hot he was you wouldn’t believe me anyway, so you’ll just have to trust me on this. He was there with a friend and the friend bought us a few rounds of vodka shots before fucking off somewhere, so me and this guy went back to dancing. And then the dancing was grinding, and then we were making out for a bit before he said he was gonna go to the bathroom with THAT head tilt. You know the one. Even my no-hookups ass knows the one. And yeah, I don’t do hookups, but fuck it. I said yes (I really cannot express how hot this guy was lol) and followed him to the bathroom. I won’t get into all the details but suffice to say getting blown by this dude was a religious experience. I’m just getting to the point of no return when he pulls back all of a sudden. And he’s got tears in his eyes, but I just thought it was from like… well, you know… but then he STOOD UP. I was like “what the fuck dude” and he just started APOLOGIZING, saying something about the song????? I hadn’t been paying attention tbh, I was a bit busy having my brains sucked out through my dick, but this guy just muttered something about the song and his ex and then he LEFT ME in the fucking club bathroom, dick bobbing in the wind. I think I’m back to no hookups from now on tbh. TL;DR: first ever hookup ended with a stranger literally sobbing his way off my dick, and ACD’s new song is a banger, but I’ll probably never be able to hear it without thinking of the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had.

Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tagging @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @blairwaldcrf @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : XIV] - END

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings :  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+ Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary : ‘Pick a flower on Earth and you move the farthest star.’ This describes chaos theory and the workings of fate as well, which illustrates how your final change of destiny moves the fate of the entire galaxy.

Status: Completed (Finally! 😭)

A/N : I can’t believe I actually finished writing this fic! It’s my first long English fic, and I’m pretty proud of it. I know my writing still has a lot of flaws (since English isn’t my strong suit), but I’m so happy people enjoyed it.

I loveeeee yapping about my own writing, so I plan to share more about this fic in another post—things like plot points I didn’t include and alternative endings I considered. Hope that sounds interesting to you, LOL

Lastly, a huge thank you to everyone who stuck with this fic till the end. Your comments and encouragement really kept me going, and I couldn’t have done it without you <3

Ps.Please go back and read the Intro again before starting the final chapter, as it’s part of the ending. (I used a storytelling style where the story opens with the ending) Reading the Intro first will help you understand the story more clearly.

And don’t forget to play this song while reading >> Skugge

I listened to it while writing the ending, and it really sets the mood

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13

Special OS : Phantom Thread

[Episodes 14] The Power of Two. (Completed)

When contemplating deeply, every entity in the universe is intricately connected in various ways.

On the quantum level, all particles are entangled and influence each other regardless of distance. Even the smallest, minor actions can trigger unforeseen consequences that ripple through the universe. This is far more complex than ordinary humans can immediately comprehend. 

And that’s exactly how fate works.

You know that the chain reaction has already begun the moment you decided to shoot Yord yourself. 

The stun blaster is designed to be non-lethal—at most, it would knock Yord unconscious and possibly immobile for several hours. But this is all you need to save his life from the fate you've foreseen on the path ahead.

You've always known—Yord and Qimir are polar opposites, destined to kill each other. Yord stands for the light, while Qimir embodies the darkness. They cannot coexist in the same world. Whenever they fight, one must die, or both shall perish. There are only those three possible outcomes.

So you chose a fourth path: to prevent them from confronting each other so that neither would have to die.

Only now do you realize how much selfishness lies beneath love. You should have ended the calamity destined to occur a hundred years from now, but instead, you chose to walk the opposite path, all because of one word: love.

The essence of Paul that flows within you still remembers the agony of the day Chani and Alia Atreides departed. Even though thousands of years have gone by, the torment remains too vivid to forget—like your heart being torn apart while still beating and your soul shattered beyond repair. You can't bear the risk of losing anyone to fate’s cruel hand again.

That's why you did it. You gambled on a path that has never appeared in any of your visions, not knowing what the consequences would be.

And you never expected that the consequences of your choice would ripple out so quickly.

You didn’t realize it...until you had to face the truth before your eyes half an hour later.

How could this be?

You stood frozen, as though the entire world had stopped spinning. Your gaze was fixed on Jackie's body, now lying motionless on the ground among the other corpses. The deep, searing wound from a lightsaber had cut through her flesh, blood pooling beneath her, staining the Jedi robes that were once yellow but were now soaked in a dark, gruesome hue.

The acrid stench of burnt flesh mingled with the metallic scent of blood, hanging thick in the air.

Jackie is still breathing, but her breaths grow weaker with every passing second. Her face contorts in excruciating pain, a pain that lasts only for a brief moment before her final breath escapes. Her eyes remain wide open—a sign that life has already slipped away.

At that moment, you hear a scream echoing in your ears, but the haze of shock leaves everything muffled.

You don't even know whose scream it is—Sol's or your own?

Never once did you think Jackie would die. In every vision you’d seen, she always survived, though gravely injured—losing an arm in the fight against Qimir. That was why you decided to come back instead of escaping alone. You knew that as long as Qimir lived, there was no escaping him—not for you. But Jackie still had a chance. If only you could get her and Yord aboard the ship in time before everything spiraled out of control, that would be enough.

But when you arrived, it was already too late. You saw it clearly with your own eyes: Qimir’s red lightsaber pierced through Jackie’s body three times, each strike aimed at a vital spot. There was no way she could survive such an attack.

You realized too late that the death of someone you loved was inevitable and unchangeable. If Yord and Qimir lived, it meant that Jackie would be the one to die. This was the consequence of your selfish attempt to alter fate. Jackie didn't die by Qimir's hand—it was your decision that sealed her fate.

You want to cry. The corners of your eyes burn with the sting of unshed tears, but none come. The grief is suppressed by the flood of information about the future that surges through your mind. You know you’ll mourn when the time comes, but not now. Not when death is crawling toward you.

“Run!”

A sharp voice jolts you from your thoughts. Finally, you hear it clearly—it’s Sol’s voice. He stands across the way, disheveled and wounded, with a minor gash at his side. His face shows shock, his voice shaking with fear. “Run! You shouldn’t be here!”

But his warning comes too late. You don’t even have a chance to respond, let alone follow his command. Suddenly, an invisible force wraps around you, tightening with each second, squeezing the breath from your lungs as if trying to crush you completely. You gasp, struggling for air, unable to move, like a drowning person on the verge of losing consciousness.

In that instant, memories from the depths of your mind flood back, dragging you into the nightmare you once foresaw. Each scene is like pieces of a puzzle coming together to form the terrible reality before you. 

Your eyes fix on a tall figure in a black cloak, his deformed metal helmet etched with a grotesque grin. He stands amidst the scattered corpses of fallen Jedi, radiating an aura of ruthless malevolence. His gaze, hidden beneath the helmet, stares intensely at you. Though you cannot see his face, you clearly sense the fury seething within him.

And in the blink of an eye, a tremendous force pulls you toward him with ease, leaving you powerless to resist.

You are completely at his mercy, your body suspended in mid-air as his large hand grips your throat. He could crush your windpipe or snap your neck in an instant; however, he holds back. You sense his intent through the shared consciousness that binds the two of you. This is how The Stranger plays with his prey. When he wears that helmet, he becomes a merciless hunter, driven only by the instinct to kill.

Sol doesn't hesitate. The moment he sees you in danger, he charges forward, his blue lightsaber flashing brilliantly as he swings it toward the Sith Lord. But the enemy moves with surprising speed. He yanks you closer, locking you in a chokehold with his arm, then tilts his body slightly, using his helmet as a shield to deflect the attack. When Sol’s lightsaber strikes the cortosis metal, it sparks and fizzles, rendering Sol’s weapon temporarily useless.

You draw a deep breath, your body tense as the Sith Lord's lightsaber hilt presses against your neck. He hasn’t activated it yet, but you know the moment he does, your face and brain will be reduced to charred flesh in an instant.

“Don’t even think about trying any tricks if you don’t want to lose your tongue,” comes the cold whisper in your ear. You understand the threat well: Qimir is the only one who knows your true capabilities. The Voice is a powerful secret weapon for the Bene Gesserit, and he won't give you the chance to wield it.

Even if you dared to try, it wouldn’t change anything. It would only hasten the end for both you and Sol. You’ve already seen the future that awaits if you choose that path. So, you stay silent for now, your mind racing to find another way—any way to turn the tables on Qimir.

“Let her go. She has nothing to do with this. Let it be between you and me!” Sol shouts, reigniting his lightsaber, but you can see that his hope hasn’t reignited.

Apart from Yord, who lies unconscious somewhere in the forest, Sol is now the only Jedi left breathing, while his comrades, including his padawan, are all dead. He should have been dead too, if you hadn’t intervened.

“But you brought her here, didn’t you?” the Sith taunts. “And I’m certain you wouldn’t have made it this far without this Bene Gesserit witch guiding you.”

As he finishes speaking, you feel his arm tighten around your neck, making it almost impossible to breathe. The suffocating pain forces you to struggle, your hands weakly hitting his arm to no avail. All you get in return is a mocking laugh.

“Bene Gesserit... the origin of both the Sith and the Jedi. Isn’t it fascinating that such remarkable beings still exist in the galaxy?” He reaches out, gripping your chin and studying your face closely before turning his attention back to Sol. "But what a pity that she chose the wrong side."

Sol shifts, readying himself to strike again, but the man in black is one step ahead. He lifts the hilt of his lightsaber to your temple without a word, yet his intent is clear—if Sol dares to take another step forward, you will die.

The Jedi grits his teeth, reluctantly deactivating his lightsaber. His eyes remain fixed on you as he addresses the Sith, "Tell me, what do you want?"

He’s stalling for time, you think. But how long can it last? You know you can’t rely on Sol alone. You need to find a way out too.

A harsh breath hisses out from beneath his helmet; it’s hard to tell whether it comes from exhaustion or amusement.

"At first, I thought I only wanted freedom: freedom from the Jedi's absurd rules, freedom to feel regret and anger, and freedom to follow my own desires," he answered flatly, as if what he desired were something ordinary, not the taking of lives. "But now I know what I truly want. I want to change; I want to liberate this universe from self-proclaimed guardians like you..."

His words stop abruptly. The silence that follows makes your heart tremble. You can feel his cold, burning rage—rage directed at the Jedi and rage directed at you.

"...And I would have achieved it sooner if I hadn’t been betrayed by someone.”

A scream rips from your throat, unprepared for the sudden, crushing weight of his boot as it slams hard into your shin. The sound of breaking bones is crystal clear. The pain is so intense that tears spring to your eyes, and your legs give way, no longer able to hold you up. But you don’t collapse completely, as Qimir still holds you upright, his grip on your arm unrelenting. His lightsaber is still pressed to your temple, while he turns to shake his head to warn Sol, who is ready to lunge forward again.

“Think about it, Sol. Why are you still trying to save her? She’s the reason you’re in this mess. Without her, you all might still be alive.”

The Sith Lord speaks with chilling indifference, completely unfazed by your whimpers as he presses his boot lightly against your broken leg, deliberately toying with your suffering. "But this one... she exposed me. So, now I have to kill every single last one of you."

You flinch, a cold shiver running down your spine. His voice—there’s something disturbingly strange about it, twisted and eerie, nothing like the Qimir you once knew.

Time is running out. Your heightened awareness warns you: he will kill Sol first, then possibly you.

You bite down hard on your lip, tasting blood. If there were any other way, you wouldn’t resort to this, but it’s the only option you know will work. And right now, there’s no other choice.

Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to speak, your voice as loud as you can manage.

"Please... don’t kill me. I’m pregnant!”

Silence falls instantly. Even the soft whisper of the wind seems unnaturally loud in the sudden stillness.

No one can see the expression behind his helmet, but you know without a doubt—he is shocked, utterly stunned by what he’s just heard.

And Sol notices it too—the brief moment when the Sith Lord’s guard drops, his grip on the lightsaber loosening without him realizing. It’s a tiny flaw, difficult to spot unless one is well-trained.

As if time stands still, Sol suddenly meets your glance, recognizing the purposeful look in your eyes. 

In that heartbeat, he knows exactly what to do.

Everything takes place within seconds: the Jedi ignites his lightsaber, lunging forward with all his strength and slashing into Qimir’s arm—the arm holding the lightsaber—sending both blood and the weapon crashing to the ground. The Sith Lord’s yell echoes through the forest.

Seizing the moment, you slip from Qimir’s grasp effortlessly. Sol pulls you toward safety, shoving you in another direction and shouting, “Get to the ship, quickly! I’ll catch up!”

He will never catch up to me, you think, glancing back at Sol one last time before turning away. Both of you know it—fate is already sealed. Sol will not leave this place tonight, and neither will you.

You force your battered body to keep moving, relying on the one leg that still functions, though each step is agonizing, nearly unbearable. Finally, you give up, sighing in resignation. With your current condition, reaching the ship is impossible. Fate has blocked every path—unchangeable and irreversible.

The only option left is to face the consequences of the choices you have made.

Weary, you sit down on a large stone not far from where you were. Jedi corpses still litter the area. A deep sorrow weighs on your chest as your gaze falls upon the faces of the fallen, remembering that just hours ago, they were all still alive.

Human life is so fragile, you think. No matter how many times you witness death, you can never grow used to it.

The sky visibly darkens as clouds turn a dull gray. The scent of moisture in the air gradually mutes the smell of blood. Rain will come soon, but you make no move to seek shelter. You place a hand on your slightly swollen belly, feeling the tiny life forming inside—the fruit of an instinctual mistake—now becoming another life reaching for the future amidst an approaching catastrophe.

At four months, it’s hard for most to see, but your Bene Gesserit training allows you to know everything about the growing flesh within you. Events unfold exactly as you’ve foreseen, and when this child is born, the future is certain—the beginning of the Skywalker and the path of a new Kwisatz Haderach.

You don’t want this child to be born, but it’s beyond your control now. The intricate weave of fate and bloodlines over the millennia has led everything to this point. Regardless of how much you try to avoid or change it, the Kwisatz Haderach will come into existence. It happened with Jessica thousands of years ago, and now it’s happening to you.

“The Bene Gesserit believe they can control everything, but the one thing they can never control is fate.���

Paul Atreides’ words resonate in your consciousness. You recall him saying this when you first discovered the truth about what will transpire in the next century through the realm of Alam al-Mithal.

“Every action in the present is a gamble for a precarious future. You cannot dictate the outcome to be what you want, and you’ll never know what will happen next until you’ve already made your choice,” Paul had said.

You tremble, feeling both isolated and terrified. It’s a profound fear—so deep that you don’t know how to express it. You know the path ahead has already changed. The universe has deviated from its course because of your actions, yet you have no idea whether things will get better or worse.

You close your eyes, forcing your mind into rapid meditation, trying to regain control over your thoughts. You push yourself into an awareness of the countless probabilities of the future, alongside everything that has occurred in the past. Those paths stretch out in every direction, twisting and overlapping in a bewildering tangle like gazing at the rippling surface of water that constantly morphs.

In that haze of uncertainty, you witness Paul Atreides wielding a crysknife, locked in a life-or-death duel with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, as per the ancient tradition. He uses that knife to kill Feyd, claiming the title of Emperor on that very day.

This marks the first turning point of the universe.

Next, you find yourself pulling the trigger of a stun blaster, firing at Yord from behind to shield him from confronting Qimir, thus altering the fate that could have led him to his death today.

This is the second turning point.

The change doesn’t only affect Yord’s fate. The ripple effect expands, enveloping everything within the universe. Multiple branching paths start to converge, merging into a singular path.

Finally... you glimpse the true outcome of the path you've chosen, which will reveal itself in over a century.

This is the gamble you've already placed your bet on, for this purpose and for this moment.

"Qimir"

His name sounds strange when you utter it, as if it's not a name you're familiar with, and the man before you is not the man you know.

You understand why you feel this way: he is no longer your Qimir but The Stranger—the Sith Lord responsible for the slaughter of the Jedi.

He stands before you, unmasked, his dark eyes cold as ice, staring at you impassively. There’s no longer a need for him to hide. Every aspect of him, every dark secret, has been laid bare—just as everything about you has.

The man chuckles softly and moves even closer, cutting off any chance for you to escape. You swallow hard, trying to turn your face away from his intense gaze. But he doesn't let you. His fingers, wet with others' blood, dig into both of your cheeks, pressing hard enough to hurt, forcing you to look only at him.

"Surprised?" He leans in closer, his hot breath on your face, and whispers softly in your ear, "I told you, you can't run away from me."

His words are not merely a threat to you; they are the truth. 

Because you both are bound by fate—an unbreakable karmic bond. No matter how much you try to run away from him, you will always be drawn back together. The only way to truly be free of him is death.

"I know, but a little effort wouldn't hurt, right?"

You respond, your tone almost playful, a smile still lingering on your pale face. It's as if everything is normal and under control, displaying no fear despite being at a complete disadvantage.

Your demeanor causes Qimir to furrow his brow, sensing something suspicious beneath your seemingly ordinary smile.

He doesn't quite understand, not until you slip your hand under your clothes.

Your body instinctively moves; muscle memory from years of training kicks in. In a flash, the knife hidden in your clothes flips into your palm, its sharp tip poised just inches from Qimir’s face.

You still remember every technique Qimir taught you—especially how to fight with a knife. You know you have numerous opportunities to thrust the knife into his vital points—his throat, neck, heart, or lungs.

But instead, you turn the knife on yourself. Without hesitation, without a second thought, you plunge it toward your own heart.

Before the knife pierces your flesh, Qimir's hand shoots out, gripping your wrist just in time. His dark eyes widen in shock, almost seeming terrified. Then, quickly, his expression twists into anger.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" he snaps.

"I thought you wanted me dead," you reply calmly, indifferent to his anger.

Qimir falls silent, appearing speechless for a moment. "I don't want you dead," he finally says, though he doesn’t seem certain of his own words.

It's changed again,  you think, but this time, you feel an unusual sense of relief.

You're well aware that he could kill you at any moment. You’ve seen all the possibilities of how Qimir might end your life, and what just happened was one of those scenarios.

Even though you’re skilled at fighting, you know you could never match Qimir. Had you chosen to stab him moments ago, you would have failed, and he would have killed you without hesitation. You’d have met a miserable end right here, just like in the visions you’ve seen so many times before.

However, by choosing to turn the knife on yourself, you altered the course of events. Qimir was caught off guard, never expecting you would actually dare to do it.

You’ve made him angry, of course, but you’ve also ignited the fear he tries so hard to conceal. It reminds him of the time you drank the Water of Life and slipped into a near-death coma for weeks. During that time, Qimir had been frantic and panicked, not knowing how to save you and fearing that you might die.

Qimir may not realize it yet—or perhaps he’s unwilling to admit it. However, witnessing this moment again will eventually compel him to confront the truth: he doesn’t truly want you dead.

This is all part of your plan. Your reckless actions sow a seed of fear in Qimir’s heart, and from now on, the thought of killing you will never cross his mind again.

Since escaping from Qimir is impossible, you must ensure your safety while trapped by his side.

“But you broke my leg!” You pretend to remain defiant, pointing to your leg and matching his anger with your own. “And you held your lightsaber to my head. Now you’re telling me you don’t want me dead? How am I supposed to believe that?”

Qimir clenches his jaw, appearing as if he wants to grab and shake you until the frustration fades.

Instead of doing that, he lets go of you, stepping back slightly before letting out a long sigh, as if unsure how to deal with you.

“That’s because you betrayed me. The rest? I was just threatening that Jedi.” He speaks through gritted teeth, glancing at your leg before shrugging. “And I’m pretty sure a broken leg won’t kill anyone, will it?”

For a split second, you feel the urge to laugh at his sarcasm, even though there’s nothing remotely funny about this situation.

Both of you look worse for wear—blood-soaked and gravely injured. He’s just killed someone, almost killing you as well.

Who would’ve thought that the two of you would end up sitting across from each other, arguing back and forth like a foolish couple trying to figure out who’s right or wrong?

It feels strange how the tension between you both suddenly eases; for a brief moment, Qimir resembles the man you once knew.

You notice this subtle shift and realize this is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. You quickly organize your thoughts and steady your emotions. Because there’s something important you need to discuss with Qimir—and this is the perfect moment to do so. There won’t be another chance.

“Qimir, I’ll help you,” you say firmly this time. “I don’t care how many Jedi you kill, but I have one condition.”

Qimir narrows his eyes, his sharp gaze scrutinizing your face as if searching for deception. He doesn’t trust you, especially after you betrayed him once and fled with the Jedi.

Yet, you don’t need to prove anything to him because Qimir needs you. Your power is what he desires, and across the galaxy, you’re the only one who possesses this unique ability.

Your assumption is correct. He finally nods. "What’s your condition?"

"The one person you cannot kill is Yord Fandar."

“Why?”

"Because I’ve seen a vision. He’s the only one who can kill you. You must avoid him," you say, though this isn’t the whole truth. Qimir has an equal chance of killing Yord himself, but it’s better to let him believe otherwise, to keep him away from Yord in the future. "But don’t worry. He won’t be a Jedi anymore after this."

You’re certain of this, as it’s what you’ve seen in your vision—a part of the altered path extending ahead.

The tragedy today will leave a permanent mark on Yord’s soul. Losing all his companions while he alone survives will haunt him like an unforgiveable sin. The guilt will gnaw at him, wearing him down until he can no longer bear the burden of being a Jedi.

Eventually, Yord will choose to leave the Order, turning his back on the Jedi way forever.

In many ways, Yord’s fate mirrors Qimir’s past. But there is one crucial difference: Yord never succumbs to the dark side. He has too much light within him to be overtaken by darkness. He becomes neither Sith nor Jedi, but a Wayseeker,[1] traveling the galaxy in search of the true meaning of life and the Force.

Yord’s life will take another turn when he reaches the planet Naboo, where he is destined to rescue the daughter of a noble family held for ransom by space pirates. This event leads to their falling in love, and Yord will eventually marry her, settling down to build a family and live out his days in peace.

His bloodline will continue, becoming a crucial variable in the future—a girl named Padmé Amidala.

In the future, she will be the love of Anakin Skywalker’s life and the primary reason for his fall to the Dark Side as a Sith Lord, plunging the galaxy into darkness. Yet, at the same time, Padmé’s existence will spark a new hope.

Luke and Leia Skywalker, the twins of Anakin and Padmé, will grow up to stop their father's devastation and restore balance to the Force.

Among the many paths branching through the stream of time, this is the only path where the Kwisatz Haderach faces total defeat.

"Promise me." You insist, eyes locked onto Qimir's with unwavering determination, barely blinking. "Promise me you will believe and do everything as I say."

"You ask for my trust after betraying me, my love?" He retorts sharply.

"You must trust me; you have no other choice." Your voice is calm, cold, and confident, as if you hold all the cards. "And neither do I, my love." The last line deliberately echoes his words.

You watch Qimir carefully, using the Bene Gesserit’s observation techniques. You notice the slight twitch at the corner of his lips—amusement mixed with satisfaction.

“You should have thought like this before betraying me," he murmurs, raising his hand. You have to force yourself not to flinch as his bloodstained fingers touch your cheek. "I have my own conditions, too."

You freeze, suddenly aware of the shifting dynamics. The familiar pressure returns, creeping in slowly and making the atmosphere heavy and uncomfortable. You immediately realize how serious Qimir is about his conditions.

This is a delicate moment for your fate, and you know you cannot afford to make a mistake.

You lower your gaze slightly, your voice dry and uncertain as you ask, "What do you want?"

"You," Qimir says with a teasing smile, though his tone betrays a far darker intent. "You belong to me. That means your life—whether you live or die—depends entirely on me. And don’t ever think about running away from me again."

His fingers trail up to your neck, brushing slowly over your shoulder. Each touch is tender, leaving you frozen as tension seeps through every muscle in your body.

"And I need to ensure this never happens again, even if it means breaking your other leg. But you won't force me to do that, will you?"

He means it, you realize. This is his way of letting you know he’ll forgive you this time, but there won't be a second act of mercy.

As you blink, fragments of the future flash before your eyes, disjointed glimpses of what’s to come—a warning, urging you to brace yourself. 

You see countless more deaths on the horizon—deaths you'll help Qimir plan through your visions. You'll have to endure this torment, bitter and broken, haunted by the overwhelming guilt of what you’ve done for the rest of your life.

And you see yourself forever trapped, with Qimir watching your every move. You won't go anywhere without him or his permission. You will never be free again, like a bird with clipped wings.

This is the worst fate possible for you, yet you understand that this is the only path that holds a chance, the last hope to save the universe. You have no choice but to do whatever it takes to protect it, even if it means living as Qimir’s prisoner and forced to commit terrible atrocities for him, without question.

But it will be worth it. It has to be worth it. You reassure yourself silently as you nod slowly in response to Qimir.

He smiles faintly before leaning in to claim your lips in an intense kiss—a kiss that serves as both promise and a vow. His kiss is cold, reminiscent of a winter stripped of warmth, tinged with a metallic hint of blood. You don’t like it, but you don't push him away. You're too exhausted to resist, surrendering to fate and to Qimir.

There's nothing left for you to do but hope—hope that the path you've chosen is the right one.

Even though you will not live to witness the final outcome.

Footnotes:

[1] A Wayseeker is actually a position within the Jedi Order, referring to Jedi who want to carry out their duties independently of the Jedi Council's directives. However, in this fanfic, I don't consider Wayseekers to be Jedi like in canon; instead, I’m writing Wayseekers as independent Force users, completely separate from both Jedi and Sith.

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

The Boy from the Piano Shop - A Drarry fanfiction by Soliblomst on Ao3 ❤️💔

‼️NO NO STOP. EVEN IF YOU DON’T SHIP DRARRY, EVEN IF YOU’RE TOTALLY DISGUSTED BY THE SHIP, HANG ON FOR A SECOND!‼️⚠️ This book is about so much more than Harry and Draco! Imagine them as other people or something. (If you’re not interested in reading it yourself, at least reblog because I KNOW that so many people would feel so much better after reading it and I’m not even exaggerating!!! 💋)

I started reading this fic yesterday and finished this morning less than an hour after midnight. Yes, I sacrificed hours of sleep for this fanfic. I read it in the dark under my quilt. It was so, so worth it. I am not joking when I tell you that this is the best fanfic I have ever read. I have only read fanfiction for about a year, and many heartbreaking and absolutely wonderful ones, but this one is 100% the best one yet. It’s even one of the best books I have ever read, to be honest, and books I have read for many many years now.

Everyone should read this. Even if you don’t like Drarry or even know much about Drarry, you should read it, even if you don’t know Harry Potter so well. That is because this fic has so much to teach us. The book is full of life wisdoms about loss, about grief, about moving on, about battling depression, suicidal thoughts and PTSD, about regret, about life in general and how to live in the moment and how to love… it’s some of the best pieces of advice and poetry I have ever read. It taught me many things that I WILL carry with me for as long as I remember it.

It is sad, it is angsty, but only because that’s how life can be and will always be at some point. Sad. Heartbreaking. Soul-crushing, even. But the relationship that is portrayed in the book is so healthy, and yeah, of course it raised my standards so much more. Fanfics, am I right?

It’s a wholesome relationship, it’s all about taking your time and feeling safe, it’s so cute and fluffy but also realistic and, as I said, angsty. Hurt, and comfort. A good ending, not in an unrealistic way like how happy endings are often portrayed in fiction. This book is different, I tell you. It gives you a wonderful glimpse of how real life can be. And that it will all be okay. We will all be okay.

It was such an entertaining read, too! The smut was written perfectly in my liking. And the amount of angst was perfect for the story. Not too little, not too much. It was… ugrhhhzhsh I’m still speechless since yesterday when I finished reading and fell asleep in shock and feeling the best I have felt in a while.

Read it. You won’t regret it. I promise you.

If I have to rate it, it is ♾️/10! And I can assure you, the highest I have ever given a fic before is 12/10. Everyone needs to read this. I was so close to crying happy tears while reading, and I have never cried during a fic yet, even though I’m a really emotional person. This one almost got me. And I was wrecked, and I was so happy about it. I swear, this book ACTUALLY changed me and my views on life. I will never look at Drarry the same way ever again. This book is officially Drarry canon for me. I can’t describe this fic in enough words… omg… all I want is for more people to read it! I don’t know what more I can do to convince you to read it, but please please do it!

‼️Remember to check the TW,s before reading!‼️ Muah 💋

P.S If you’re not interested in reading it, please reblog for the sake of making someone’s day and life a little bit brighter!

[lunar-years]

hi! love your blog. I was wondering if you have any fic recs? I’m especially looking for royjamiekeely but I’m flexible :) thank you!!

Hi! I have read a lot of the R/J/K tag, and gosh, there is seriously so much incredible stuff in there. It sort of depends on what kind of vibe you're going for, but here are a few* to get you started.

Note: many of these are rated M or E, so please check the actual warnings and ratings and summaries before reading :)

Start with author inlovewithnight and literally just read everything they've ever written, it is all completely brilliant and there is something for all tastes. My personal favorites are the blood in my mouth, I wish it was mine and they threw me a whirlwind and I spat back the sea, but do be aware those are definitely darker/heavier fics and heed the tags!!! (the first has quite bit of noncon [not between RJK] and the second involves physical abuse initiated by James Sr.). For a lighter option I recommend Follow the Hearts and You Can't Go Wrong which is a lovely future R/J/K fic about the end of Jamie's career

from there move along to @valonia47 (Ao3) and @belmottetower (Ao3) and Mixtape Star (Ao3) and also read everything they've written :) I wanted to single out favorites for you but how could I when it's all so very good?

our bodies touch and the angels cry by lennynards: R/J/K that starts out with Roy & Jamie having to stay within 10 feet of each other at all times after both accidentally drinking a weird tea Jane brewed up for Beard. Yes it sounds like a completely ridiculous premise but it is one of my favorite RJK fics ever, 12/10

In Colour series by lyricl: this one feels so very true to canon and it just gets them all so right, I don't know how else to describe it. It's not a complete series though and nobody has actually gotten together as of yet, fyi. They're all far too busy having a lot of complex (& horny) feelings about each other from afar.

This might be a long shot that's not quite what you're looking for but, For Now series by Wild Wren. It's actually mostly a Roy/Keeley series, and I started reading it on a whim because I literally ran out of new things to read in the R/J/K and Jamie tags at one point, lol. Then it ended up being some of my favorite fanfic of all time. It's Roy/Keeley but like, in a not normative and also very kinky way that does a great deep dive into their respective ~issues~. Also Wild Wren had them break up even before the show had them break up, and in a much better and far more detailed way, just saying!! Part 4 is pre-ot3 in the messiest possible way. What a brilliant series, I cannot recommend it enough.

Outgrow the shoes of expectations by @destinationtoast : Brilliant on the ot3 side of it and even better on the character study of each individual within the ot3. Sooo so good. I think about it all the time.

another box with a question mark by irishmizzy: going to be completely honest when I say I don't fully remember this one, but I do know it was very funny and excellent and it is also rated T which makes it different from a lot of the others on my list, so i wanted to include!! It is in my bookmarks and I'm going to be rereading it asap now :)

something that's so close by @ohlafraise : s3 outtake that is very funny and perfect and lovely and also happens to be rated T :) also check out one night upon the shore by the same author. It's Jamie/Keeley, but don't worry Roy's there in spirit. You'll see. That one is very much not T though, lol

by any other name by renecdote: Jamie accidentally wears a Kent jersey instead of his own jersey on the pitch and the internet thinks they're dating (spoiler: they are dating). Who cares if it's not realistic because it's so hilarious and wonderful, amen.

Oh Lord, You've Never Been so in Love by asexual-fandom-queen. I literally just read this one, it's hot off the presses and it is so sexy and tender and also just gets these three so very right. the perfect anecdote to the end of s3.

Anddd of course I have to self promo a little and recommend you Waterfalls (between seasons 1&2 canon divergence), The Full Picture (s3: Jamie attempting to parent-trap RoyKeeley while avoiding his feelings for both of them) and my new one Confetti (ot3 fluff where they celebrate Phoebe's favorite holidays)

*I said I'd give a few and then proceeded to be really long about it, but like, what else is new? For that reason I've tried to stick to strictly R/J/K fics, but if you'd like Roy/Jamie or gen fic/Jamie fic recs also let me know because I could totally make a whole separate post about those, lol.

[justallihere]

20 Questions for the Writers Tag Game!

I was tagged by @widebrimmedhatsblog

1. Total number of AO3 works

8!

2. Total AO3 word count

291,174

3. Fandoms I've written for

The only thing I've ever really published that's been popular is The Empyrean. I have a couple ACOTAR ideas but they've never seen the light of day

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

storm in the quiet (5,357)

simmer (609)

invisible in a violet sea (515)

violence in my veins (499)

somehow i still love you more (499)

5. Do I respond to comments?

....sometimes. Generally no because I'm really horrible at making time for it. But know that I read them all over and over again!! I'm trying to be better

6. What has the angstiest ending?

Everything that's currently posted has a happy ending. Storm in the quiet has the most angst overall, and some people might find the ending angsty but I don't think it is lol

7. What has the happiest ending?

Probably somehow i still love you more. Just Xaden and Violet and their baby, living their happy lives 😌

8. Have I received hate?

Not really! A couple people here and there who I think either didn't get the point of some of my work or it wasn't their thing and they told me about it anyway, but no outright hate

9. Do I write smut? And what kind?

Yes. Anything with a praise kink basically

10. Do I write crossovers?

Nope.

11. Have I ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of!

12. Have I ever had a fic translated?

Not yet! Maybe someday someone will want to.

13. Have I ever co-written a fic?

I have not. I'm so particular about my writing I don't know how it would go for me lol

14. What is my all time favorite ship?

For the Empyrean, Riorgail are my babies 🥰

15. A WIP I'll never finish?

Uh I started a Violet/Aaric fic set during Iron Flame that I don't think I'll ever pick back up

16. Writing strengths?

Dialogue and probably descriptions? I love taking the time to describe what the characters are seeing and feeling

17. Writing weaknesses?

Any type of action/fight scene. I hate it so much

18. Do I like foreign language dialogue?

A lot of untranslated dialogue when I'm reading takes me out of the story because I have to keep translating it myself. As far as writing, I don't really write it because I don't speak other languages besides English, so I wouldn't want to get it wrong

19. First fandom I wrote for?

I think it was PJO way back in the day? It never got published

20. Favorite fic I've written?

storm in the quiet. It's so long but it's really been a labor of love and the response I've gotten to it isn't something I'll ever forget. It's been an incredible experience sharing it with everyone 💕

I don't have anyone to tag so if you want to participate please do!!!

[distractedducky]

So I was thinking about it… why sterek

I’ve shipped a lot in my time. From the classics like spirk and destiel, to the straight vampire diaries nonsense, from murder husbands to buddy to name a very small few. They all hold weird little places in my heart and mind but they fade and as I flow in and out of fandoms I move on to the next hyperfixation. But sterek just keeps sticking around.

It’s an old ship for me. If you go on my ao3 all the way back to 2013 you’ll see my first ever book mark was a sterek fic. That fic is still a comfort fic for me today and is something I read when my anxiety is uncontrollable.

It was something I read late in 2022 when the reality of the pandemic and the last few years hit me hard and got me back into Teen Wolf so hard it actually pushed me out of the supernatural hole the start of the pandemic put me in.

I’ve always been a shipper and I have my ride or dies, my OTPs and Ot3s, and so on and so forth, but fandom has always been weird for me. I started young and witnessed the birth in Tumblr and ao3, as a tween my taste can only be described as pure trash* Affectionate * but as I got older, like most things in life, my taste changed. And though I still love me some hot garbage, I engage with it differently than that little 12-year-old who thought werewolves and vampires were cool no further explanation necessary.

Now I’m an academic, a librarian, who actually studied critical lit analysis, book studies, and religion. Who spent years learning how to dissect prose and poetry to look beyond text in an professional setting. And though I don’t regret it and it has led to some fun changes in the way I engage with fiction it also kinda ruined the fun engagement I had with things back in the day when baby me bookmarked that first fic.

I need more from my characters now, more from my fandoms and it has led me away from and into the arms of content that I never saw coming. (Looking at you Danny phantom phandom) I needed depth or the potential for depth that some shows just didn’t lend themselves to cleanly enough to satisfy me and yet… sterek persisted.

One of my problems is I didn’t really engage with the fandom when the show was airing and only watched a few season sporadically until recently, so I wasn’t there when things were forming organically. It has left me out of step with the primary directions fan content creators have taken with the ship and the directions they took, though fun and interesting, aren’t really my usual thing.

I hate the infantilization of stiles and other teen wolf characters like Isaac. I generally hate infantilization of adults, hyper feminization of certain types of characters and so on and so forth and it has to do with my own gender stuff, but I usually avoid it in fanfiction. I am also not a huge fan of modern werewolf romance erotica. I have a lot of opinions on real supernatural mythology and legends and I don’t like the anthropomorphism that shows up a lot in werewolf stories. Not that I haven’t read some amazing takes on werewolf lore, especially in the Teen Wolf fandom but I’m speaking generally. I’m also not a fan of pack mom stiles (again my own gender stuff) and though I think Scott’s inconsistent character and writing throughout the show lens him to be whatever your fic needs to be (best friend, hype man, wingman, idiot, genius, villain, so on and so forth) I don’t like a lot of the 'Scott sucks just because' fics. I don’t like the hate in the fandom around that. I also don’t like the hypermasculine depictions of Derek in a lot of fics and on and on. I have read a lot of TW and sterek and by all accounts, it should be a fandom I wouldn't personally engage with this much. Yet for all that, I have found there is an exception to every trope I hate, every hard line i draw for myself, because the fic was just so good. For every dozen or so fics that seem to tell me that this isn’t the fandom for me, there is that one amazing thing that says “No! This is exactly where you wanna be”.

Like I said, I need more from my fandoms now a days and most of what that boils down to is plausible deniability. I need enough gaps in the narrative to fill them in myself, but with enough connective pieces that everything can make sense when put together. The fatal flaw of telling without showing, which allows people to extrapolate out what they want from certain things -all the subtext with none of the text - is exactly where my degree comes in handy.

And sterek well… I think what it is for me as a shipper is the inconsistencies. That is kind of why I still ship it so far and for so long. It's the fact of why was Stiles in Derek's dream at the end of 3b? We can talk about all the things with him being his anchor and the grasping at straws that we as shippers all love to do but the narrative fact is they did not spend that much time on screen together or even saying they were doing things off-screen together. That leads us to a lot of whys. Why were they together at the beginning of season two talking about the alpha pack? Why were they in certain situations in season four that ld them to work so well? What happens in all of this dead time? What happens in season six? We see stiles in episode one be like "Oh my God Derek is a mass murderer wanted by the FBI" and at the end of the season, they've apparently driven and or flown back to California together, apparently spent some time together. They're not on the run from the FBI so that got cleared somehow, stiles isn't limping so his foot healed. There's so much dead time like that throughout the show so when scenes happen like the hand on Derek's shoulder after the death of Boyd you're left thinking that's kind of off, we haven't seen any interactions with them that would show that they have that kind of deep solemn relationship where comforting him would make sense.

The show notoriously has a terrible timeline, but all that does is fuel the fact that we don't know how much time any of these characters are really spending off-screen together. We can only assume that it happened in this weird dead time. This is why somehow Derek's view of Stiles in his head is like a calm stable dependable figure who can help him talk through an issue. This is why they always gravitate towards each other in fights. This is why they work so well together in a crisis. Like we have to assume that happened before which is stupid and I know it's so much reaching, but in my little brain, it's the only way that makes all of this random shit fit together- so I gotta ship it. Obviously, the real-world explanation is inconsistent writing plus putting space between them once the writer stopped wanting people to ship it, but because you get all of these disjointed scenes where they're too intense for what we've been previously seeing there is some type of disconnect here -what is that? and if you're looking at the show, not as a work of fiction, but as a narrative, what else are we gonna do then assume that they have spent way more time emotionally connecting than we have seen on the screen.

And for me that’s everything I want in a ship, that ability to play and extrapolate random events and ask, okay now how would these all fit! And that’s what spawns great ideas and stories and art and why I ship it, dispute the fact that it really shouldn't work for me personally.

I think it’s why a lot of people still stop sterek despite the fact that the attitude towards it and the show has shifted a lot and in many different ways in the last decade.

Sorry for the rant, I’ve been thinking about this for days and had to get it out there. I hope I didn’t offend anyone. I truly love the Teen Wolf fandom and everything it’s done and everything it created and I’m so happy to be able to engage with it.

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are the amazing fics I read this month: Lost But Won | 2tiedships2 | [16k] If you start out by talking about your weekend of golfing I swear to god I will stab you with a pen,” Louis said by way of greeting. “You’ll have to give me a few minutes though so I can see if I even own a pen. But the warning stands.” “Hello to you too, dearest Louis,” Niall yelled from where he still sat on the couch next to Harry. There was a clunk on the floor and what sounded like shoes hitting the wall as Niall announced, “We have a guest. You might want to save stabbing me until you don’t have a witness.” “Well if they are obsessed with golf then…” Louis trailed off as he made his appearance in the living room. Harry’s mouth dried up. This was not the alpha that Niall had described. When Harry loses his passport after a weekend trip to see Niall, the inconvenience of being stranded in America becomes a little more bearable after meeting Louis. Or a lot more bearable.

frightened by the bite, no harsher than the bark | localopa | [21k] louis loves going to the barricade during his shows. if it’s because he’s got a bit (lot) of touch deprivation and is using it as an excuse to have his big alpha bodyguard, harry, touch him, well, that’s a secret he doesn’t need to tell.

Scarred | allwaswell16 | [23k] As a male omega, Louis has learned to live with disappointment and rejection, but he dreams of the day he finds his soulmate. When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death. Pride doesn't keep Louis from telling Harry the truth. But love does.

this brokenness inside me might start healing | LiveLaughLoveLarry (SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFic) | [29k] Louis grew up in a tiny town, where everyone knew everyone -- or at least, they think they do. Then he left, and became a successful singer-songwriter, a star that everyone in the country knows -- or at least, they think they do. But when Louis returns home for the birth of his first nibling, he meets a librarian who doesn't know him at all. And that's all Louis could ask for. ~*~ “I remember when you were a teenager," Miss Susan says, "telling me all the things you wanted to accomplish, the places you wanted to go. And I’ve seen a lot of kids, with a lot of big dreams – but you were different. You had this… quiet energy, this determined certainty. When you told me all you were going to do, I believed you.” She smiles, spreading her arms. “And now here you are.” Here he is indeed, Louis thinks bitterly. Back where he started. His dreams on pause, his future uncertain. His whole identity built out of secrets and half-truths, while everyone thinks they know exactly who he is. He left to find himself, he came home to find himself, and yet – here he is, feeling more lost than ever before.

Look To The Sky | babyhoneyhslt | [82k] “Harry, it’s been five years,” Liam says softly, heaving an exasperated sigh. “I know it’s hard, but you need to let it go.” “I can’t let it go.” Harry shakes his head. “He’s my husband, Ash’s father. I can’t give up on him.” “I’m not asking you to give up on him, but you need to stop questioning them. Or trying to get your nose in places it’s not wanted.” Liam watches him. “You know you’re one of my best workers, and I can’t lose you. I’m giving you a warning now, please stop this.” “Or what?” Harry looks at Liam. “You’ll fire me? For wanting answers to what happened to my husband?” ~.~ On the 28th January 2019, British Airways flight BA289 took off from Chile at 10:04am. The fight was due to land in London Heathrow Airport at 12:44am. The flight was flown by experienced Captain Louis Tomlinson, accompanied by the first officer Oli Wright. Around five hours into the flight, BA289 disappeared from air traffic controls radar, and did not arrive in Heathrow at the estimated time. Search crews are currently looking for any signs of wreckage, but the question stands, what happened to flight BA289?

[haemosexuality]

Hey is the anon, love the URL. Tell me more about body decay<3

hmmm i dont rlly know what to say i cant write all poetic like like ppl usually do!! i just think it looks cool. like gross and fascinating and beautiful. i like the idea of it. like i like looking at it and at gore and at insides its just, so cool. i can totally see myself being the type of person that sees like dead animals outside and takes their skull home to keep it

[knickknacksandallthat]

if you don't mind me asking, what got you into kevin's character?

for me it was actually your fic, but since its so normalized in the fandom to dismiss his trauma and call him a coward and annoying for doing things that other characters are loved for, i didn't really care about him when i first read the books

now hes my favorite

Oh, anon, I love this!! What an honor, I’m so glad to have helped you join the Kev lovefest 😊 (Welcome to the dark side lol!) It makes me so happy that the A Fallen Star series has awakened this in you! 💖

And wow, what a good question. I don't mind at all! I actually had to think about this for a while to try and remember…how the heck did I get here???

So here is my ridiculously uncalled-for POV on Kevin’s character and slow descent into madness below:

(Disclaimer that these are just my thoughts and anyone in the aftg fandom can hc or think whatever they like about Mr. Day 😊)

Like you, anon, I was easily swayed by Neil’s perspective of Kev on first read. It makes sense and is a credit to Nora how we so fully buy into Neil’s opinion of Kevin that many of us just run with it. And to be fair to the fandom, it’s canon – Andrew, Neil, and all the Foxes tell us he’s a coward and annoying and so we assume it must be true.

So, I created many fics that played into this image and focused on andreil. (Because who isn’t enamored with andreil??? Legit, deranged obsession and couple goals lmao). Using that lens, it was easy to make Kevin the punching bag because he is the quintessential “straight man” in comedy (and yes, I do hear the irony in that) – the foil to other characters to make them seem better, braver, funnier, smarter, etc. It’s an age-old trick/trope in fiction that works very well. And it was an easier transition for Nora to make, I think, once she made the decision to remove Kevin from the main narrative of her story.

This character setup works well enough when you’re doing a fic from Neil or Andrew’s POV, providing an easy source of humor to fall back on. So, for me, I think my thinking shifted once I started working on Flavors of Fall and delved into Andrew and Kevin’s storyline there. That fic forced me to think from Kevin’s perspective, and I found at the time I had a shallow understanding of what made Kevin tick. It totally threw me once I really started considering sequels for that fic and the 12 Day Program for Courtship, both of which have Kevin cast as a main character. I had to dive deep into his makeup, seriously considering his motivations, his likes/dislikes, his personality traits, his relationships, and how he would react in any given situation.

Because I was interested in his character development, I started delving into fics like orionauriga’s just pretend , @likearecordbb's Long Walk in the Woods, @thetrojeans daylights, sunsets, and @dayurno's the age of no regret series. They are all brilliant, fascinating character studies of Kevin Day and his relationships that are extremely well done. There’s many more, of course, but I was searching for fics that specifically delved into Kevin’s thought process and choices and stayed there a while.

That’s what led me to feeling like I needed to tell his story with Dead of Night. Of course, it turned into a larger series with my flavoring of Kerejean added because I’ve never been a huge Kevin/Thea relationship fan. (But that's a discussion for another day which you can start here and here for that adventure.)

Now all that I’ve described above gives you the mechanics of the descent – the when, the where, the how. But it crucially misses the why. What is it about Kevin that got me in the end?

Ironically enough, it was his potential.

I think when Nora stripped away any kind of romantic narrative (RIP Kandreil OR Riko/Kevin/Jean) or a chance for a tragic storyline (Kevin dying in the end) it resulted in removing a lot of Kevin’s emotional vulnerability. We don’t get to hear what he’s feeling or thinking unless it’s related to Riko, the Moriyamas, or Exy. This means his storyline is consumed by the stereotypical sports underdog story, with us following his rise to champion (which is still a powerful enough narrative on its own that shines even in the midst of Neil’s crazy plotline. Switching that racquet to his left hand in the championship game? Iconic.) 

However, it leaves us very much with a shell of a person. Kevin’s character outside of Exy is reduced to a handful of facts – there’s a passing comment on his like of history, and the stark evidence of an alcohol addiction as a coping mechanism. We’re told he used to dance. That he learned French because Jean Moreau taught him. That he has no qualms about taking (mild?) drugs (cracker dust). Despite how much we’ve run with it as a fandom, the only allusion I’ve found in the books to him being strict with diet is this section from The King’s Men:

“No one needs to eat this before a game,” Kevin said. “Eat some granola or protein if you’re that hungry.” “Hello, there’s protein in the peanut butter,” Nicky said. “Let go of me before I tell Andrew you’re outlawing chocolate. I said let go. You’re not the boss of me. Ouch! Did you seriously just hit me?” … “Kevin, just let him go,” Neil said. “It’s not worth fighting over.” “When our defense is sluggish, we all suffer,” Kevin said.

From what I can find in the books, Kevin never once denies Andrew eating ice cream. (Which I’m 100% able to admit I might have missed something so feel free to quote me where that scene is because I was totally searching for it). In fact, every time they go to Sweetie’s, it’s implied Kevin orders ice cream with them. In the infamous kissing scene in The King’s Men, we actually have proof that Kevin got ice cream:

Kevin still hadn’t messaged Nicky by the time they reached the ice cream aisle, so Nicky gave in and called him. Neil half-expected Kevin to ignore Nicky’s call, but Kevin wasn’t so sour with them that he’d turn down a free snack…Nicky grabbed spoons from the kitchen and distributed pints to their hungry owners. Neil checked his expression when Nicky came back from dropping Kevin’s off….

Now I do think it’s in line with his character and his upbringing to have issues with food, so I’m all for buying into that specific hc. But we have very little evidence of it in the text.

His personality is reduced mainly to anger, arrogance, or cowardice (all traits that don’t make us sympathize with him). The only facts we have about his Tragic Past™️ are two things: his mother’s death, and his hand injury. Everything else we assume is based on Neil’s knowledge of the mafia, Wymack’s hearsay, Andrew’s deductions, and Kevin’s reactions to Riko and Tetsuji. We have literally no idea what happened to Kevin in the Nest. His trauma and his time spent there is a complete mystery. The closest we get is Riko’s comment to Neil in The Raven King:

“I am going to love hurting you,” Riko said, “like I loved hurting Kevin.”

This, I think, is one of the main reasons many of the fandom “dismisses” Kevin’s trauma in comparison to Neil’s because we can’t see it. We don’t know what happened and we don’t get to experience it, so this lack of explanation or motivation leaves us only with very cold personality traits. We’re unable to root for him as a character because we can’t sympathize. We can empathize because we know Very Bad Things™️ must have happened in the Nest, but we don’t see them happen the same way we do Neil or Andrew. Even Kevin’s hand injury is old and “healed” when we’re first introduced to the character.

The only true canon moment where Kevin appears “human” is in The Raven King with Kevin’s “then run” and “you should be court” conversation with Neil. His admittance that Neil’s life is more important than Exy is instantaneous – he doesn’t even pause to throw his Exy dreams down the drain if it means Neil can survive.  In a weirdly parallel way, we see Kevin’s thought process implicit in his conversation: “at least you’d have a chance.” It is strikingly similar to Neil’s internal conversation of: one of us should make it. (And there’s another whole separate discourse I could get into on how Kevin and Neil are two halves of the same coin, but we’ll save that for another day.) But even the revelation of Wymack as his father has more shock value than true emotional weight – we never see what that conversation looked like or how either party actually reacted. (In some ways, I feel like Dan being pissed at Kevin is given more “screentime” than Kevin’s response to telling his father and how Wymack reacted.)

So with Kevin’s emotions and past firmly locked down, we’re left to brush off Kevin’s reactions (or lack thereof) as part of his indifferent personality. It is what it says on the tin. (And that’s not to say Kevin is a perfect character by any means. He has flaws just like every other character.)

Now some people very accurately depict and buy into those limitations as simply being Kevin’s character/personality – I’ve read some awesome fics where Kevin is Ace/Aro and/or on the spectrum. These are completely valid, extremely well done, and I could totally see why others see and write him this way. Canon practically sets them up for it.

For me, though, it circles back to our skewed view of Kevin given to us by some deeply loved but also deeply flawed characters (cough, Andreil). Those same characters that we’re told time and again not to judge them by their cover but to try and understand how they’re affected by (and make choices because of) their trauma.

While Andrew and Neil end up giving each other this grace through a hard-fought battle of truths and exchanges, they do not extend this same courtesy to Kevin, and neither are we given the chance to do so. We literally can’t because, again, we don’t know what the full extent of Kevin’s trauma is.

Kevin doesn’t talk about his time in the Nest to any character, meaning we know nothing about it. Ergo we don’t know what choices Kevin makes because of it. In The Foxhole Court, Wymack specifically tells us Kevin was Riko’s pet. In fact, there is so much specific language that Kevin himself uses around the concept of ownership, and that Nora uses when referring to him that it jarringly sticks out in the text.  He has no sense of personal space or proper boundaries, viewing people only as assets to be used for the good of the team, which at the very least is a sign of mental abuse. But the fact remains that we just don’t know. We don’t know how far this mental abuse was taken, how often or severely he was injured, if he injured or was forced to injure others – we don’t know.

But it’s obvious whatever happened to him started as a child and built from there. Which means he has years of abuse and power dynamics embedded into him. He has every right to be afraid. In fact, we are demonstrably told and shown often in canon that Kevin is afraid…but fear does not equate to cowardice. In fact, we know that bravery often means being scared and doing something anyway. And in many cases, that’s just what Kevin did (with a crutch named Andrew). But even before he entered his deal with Andrew, it's important to remember that even though he was brainwashed and beaten from a young age to understand that he would die if he betrayed the Moriyama family in some way, he left them.

This is always so significant to me because so many abuse victims stay in their situation thinking/hoping/praying it will get better – either because of an idea that their abuser will change (“they’re just having a hard time at work rn”) or that the victim will fix whatever flaw the abuser finds lacking. Or alternatively, they recognize the situation is bad, but they can’t leave because they feel like they have nowhere to go, no one who will help them, trapped by their lack of skills/contacts/money. In Kevin’s case, both situations rang true. And yet he left. He left, and in only a year and a half’s time he recovered from his injury and led his team to the championship.

But he is only at the start of his recovery. I think he’ll need years of therapy to recover from all that happened in the Nest. I think many of his emotional and social shortcomings are a direct consequence of that timeframe and he did not have the freedom to address them until the threat of the Moriyamas was removed. I do not think they are permanent parts of his personality – I think in time, he will be allowed to grow and recover and contribute much more to his relationships than he’s capable of doing at the end of The King’s Men.

Though the series finished, I think Kevin’s story is just beginning.

That’s why I think he’s fascinating to explore as a character. That’s why I love writing him right now because in many ways, his possibilities are endless. There’s so many opportunities to explore different facets of his story that we never get a chance to in canon. Kevin’s character and narrative is a tantalizing tease which many of us have fell hook, line, and sinker for. (Including yours truly.) We want to rabidly sink our teeth into it and shake it, like a dog with a bone.

So we do. 😉

Phew. Okay, that’s enough. None of what I’ve written above is new I’m sure to those of the fandom who have been here since the beginning or have become diehard Kevin fans. But thank you for letting me ramble in this ask, anon. Writing about Kevin has been a very fun and therapeutic adventure for me. So I’m so glad that there are others out there who are enjoying it too 😊

[marley-manson]

If you're still doing the character ask game - Ray Vecchio, 1, 8, 12, and 22 <3

Yessss I am always here to talk about Ray, thank you!

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

Idek man, I imprinted like a duckling or something. I love everything about him. Love his loud mouth, his loud clothes, the armani, the shift between the two fashions, the big nose and green eyes, love his dickishness and complaining, love his selflessness and steadfastness and how they go hand in hand with the complaining, love his family and his shitty dad backstory and his zuko backstory and his childishness with Frannie and his catholicism, love that he will always put his loved ones before anything else he cares about and Fraser gets the highest priority position, love how the show constantly seamlessly shifts from two dimensional cartoon to deep and thoughtful characterization with him as well as Fraser.

I love how he's skeptical but intrigued by Fraser anyway and always ends up convinced by him, love how he was burnt out at first but gets promoted in season 2, love how he vanishes from Fraser's life for the sake of duty, essentially, in what could be read as an ironic consequence for Fraser, love that he'll do absolutely anything for Fraser and feels unappreciated for it because Fraser doesn't prioritize him, love that they get closer and closer to resolving this issue but Ray leaves before it can fully happen.

Character of all time for me.

8. What’s something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Ohhhhh boy. I mean I can't stand people characterizing him as Fraser's mean ex of course, but it's pretty rare that I ever saw that because I couldn't get into the season 3/4 side of fandom. Anything that characterizes him as physically abusive in general, which ime pretty squarely rests on italian stereotypes (not cop statistics when every character is a cop) since iirc he never uses violence impulsively in the show - it's always a deliberate choice he makes in the line of duty as part of the cop show format - and the show specifically contrasts him with his abusive father that way. (Though I may make an exception for very thoughtful post Vegas characterization that takes his actual depiction on the show into account.)

Even just like, eg this one Ray/Ray fic I once read where they got into a mutual physical fight kind of bugged me lol because I legit don't think Ray V would.

Among F/V shippers, I really loathe the headcanon that Ray shot Fraser on purpose either consciously or subconsciously. I can respect the attempt for more conflict and angst in theory, but I will die on the Ray V defense hill lol, and he would never. He was clearly aiming for Victoria, we saw that from his point of view in the scene itself, and Fraser deliberately took the bullet to shield Victoria. He sees where Ray's aiming, he runs faster to reach her in time, and Letting Go parallels it with Ray V taking a bullet for Fraser. He also casually protests that it was an accident when they're both over the drama in the tag, which would never happen if that wasn't the case.

12. What’s a headcanon you have for this character?

He wouldn't exactly describe himself as bisexual, but Fraser isn't the first guy he's been with. He had a thing with a bff in high school or college, and because his priority system goes: loved ones > abstract ideals, he doesn't feel guilty about it. Bff is gay, bff isn't bad or disgusting or whatever else, therefore gay sex is fine, at least with him. If asked he might still say it's a sin in general, but Ray absolutely has loopholes for people he cares about.

And if Fraser is his first then again, Fraser takes priority and Ray doesn't even have a sexuality crisis. Oh, Fraser is into men? Totally fine, it's Fraser, and he's never refused Fraser anything before so why should he start now? Especially when he looks so good in the brown uniform.

Relatedly I also envision a backstory scene where he once drove Frannie to an abortion clinic, casually bitched about it on the way accidentally triggering Frannie's guilt and making her cry, then instantly switched to pro-choice talking points that he'd always dismissed before to reassure her.

22. If you’re a fic reader, what’s something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don’t like?

I love that it's not an uncommon characterization choice to have Ray just bypass internalized homophobia because Fraser takes precedence over all that. Love fic where Ray is attracted to Fraser and knows it, however he deals with it. I love post-canon F/V fic a LOT. Give them their happy reunion and happily ever after!!!

Honestly I'm surprisingly easy for Ray V fic in general, it's pretty rare to find characterization that annoys me. Even if I disagree, I'll usually still buy in for the duration. I love fic where Ray V is there <3 Like, I'll read het fic for him. I read basically every Ray V/Stella fic out there ffs, just for Ray. That should tell you something lmao.

Something I don't like - well there's everything I complained about for question 8 lol. I don't like when fic writers buy into the bitching and moaning and miss the selfless devotion, but that's pretty rare in Ray-centric fic, it's more when he's a side character or just part of Fraser's backstory.

More commonly, I don't like when Fraser wants to get together and Ray pushes him away at first because of internalized homophobia. I'll still read it, but like, I'll be shaking my head the whole time lol.

And lastly, I don't have impassible top/bottom preferences for F/V, but I can't read anything kinky where Ray doms lol, pure personal bias there.

ask meme

[longing-for-rain]

I was reading one of your fanfiction and you’ve written in disgusting detail about zuko getting r@ped, why?

Interesting question. I wonder about it myself sometimes.

But what the hell, let me psychoanalyze myself tonight because it’s been a really bad time lately and it’s Friday night so you know what that means 🥴🥃

Anyways.

Weirdly enough I’ve been drawn to that kind of content from a young age, like age 12 young, pretty much right after I’d gone on the internet and been exposed to shit. It was always confusing for me. I always had this weird compulsion to watch certain male characters get hurt very badly in ways women typically get hurt. I’m not just talking about rape either; that’s probably the most extreme part of it, but it was also things like “damsel in distress” situations, eating disorders, body image issues, etc. I’m not saying men never experience these things, just that especially in media, they’re almost always associated with women.

I felt really weird for it because let’s be honest it is pretty fucked up. How did I get like this? It’s not even like I found it hot or anything—I’m a lesbian, I don’t feel attraction towards men at all. Besides, it was only violence I was drawn to. The minute a story started getting to some kind of Stockholm Syndrome situation where the victim starting falling in love with his abuser, it became a squick and I had to run away. It also couldn’t be just any male character. It had to be one I really liked. There have been others but you’re right, it started with Zuko and over the years it’s mostly Zuko. And yeah, that’s why I ended up writing content like that myself, because it was on my mind and I use writing to vent. But why? What was I subconsciously trying to vent about in that specific case?

Lately though I think I figured it out. The best way I can think of to describe it is a revenge fantasy. Which I know is deeply fucked up but hear me out.

So I get on the internet at age 12, right? At the time, my favorite shows were ATLA and HTTYD. So as one does, I start looking for things about my shows and come across art of the blorbos and naturally discover the world of fanfiction. And how wonderful for 12 year old me! I latched onto Zutara almost instantly because even as a kid my favorite scene in the show was the Final Agni Kai and I really wanted to see them get together. Now I find out there is a whole world of stories I can read online about that exact thing happening in so many different ways? It was beautiful.

But as you know if you know anything about fanfic sites (which I assume you do because you found my fucked up stories lol) I found some unpleasant things. Keep in mind this was around 2012 and I was browsing ff.net which had nowhere near the tagging/warning system that AO3 does. And even if it did it probably wouldn’t have mattered because I was 12 years old with a dangerous combination of naïveté and curiosity.

So anyway! What do I find on ff.net when I went scrolling for my lovely Zutara fics? Well, I did find some really cute ones. There are some I still think about but can’t find for the life of me because they’re either deleted or buried in the depths of ff.net. That was all good. You know what wasn’t good? The…other things. And oh boy. The people complaining about how Zutara is some kind of colonizer abuse fantasy wouldn’t have lasted 10 seconds back then. I remember reading a fic where Zuko raped Katara while she was tied to a tree. No warnings, and in the end note the author said it wasn’t rape because she ended up liking it. Many, many fics revolving around the idea of Zuko kidnapping Katara and making her into some kind of sex slave but it’s okay! She likes it and he turns good on the end for her so it’s true love! I also vividly remember a Blue Spirit x Katara fic where they were fucking, he took off the mask revealing himself as Zuko, Katara got scared and tried to push him off, Zuko just held her down and kept going. Not called rape. No warnings. Comments full of people talking about how “hot” it was.

Get the picture? It was horrifying. Keep in mind I was 12. It made me deeply angry, not just because of the misogyny and glorification of sexual violence, but also because it was Zuko doing it. I loved this character. I loved him because his story was so compelling, he was good and kind, he seemed safe to me. And reading about him violently abuse and rape the person he was supposed to love most was horrifying. It felt like some kind of betrayal. It made me hate him.

Middle school era me stopped reading Zutara fic as a result. I kept getting burned by it, and felt drawn towards that kind of Zuko rapefic instead. An old Zhaoko fic still sticks out in my mind. It was a pretty simple plot where Zhao kidnapped Zuko, whipped him and raped him, then at the end Katara rescued and healed him. It was oddly cathartic for me. Because it a) satisfied my revenge itch to see Zuko hurt in the same way I read about him hurting Katara in those other fics and b) put Zuko in a vulnerable position that would render him incapable of being a perpetrator in that universe (I know that’s not how it works in reality but that’s just my gut reaction there idk). Also read tons of fucked up Boiling Rock fics because it’s kind of a no brainer in the Zuko rapefic genre.

I don’t remember exactly why, but in the mid 2010s I didn’t really read much fic at all and my interest sort of fizzled out. I was mostly into HTTYD at that point and had a brief fling with Voltron before the fandom went to shit (which didn’t take long). So I guess that dark side of mine went dormant for a while and I didn’t think about it a lot.

Then oh boy…COVID hit. I was 19 when it started and found myself drawn into unhealthy levels of internet usage like most people during that time because what else were we supposed to do for fun. I was also going through some really fucked up heavy personal shit which led me to turning back to my old comfort ship…Zutara. Found my way onto tumblr, then to the fanfic sites. AO3 was a welcome surprise after being used to ff.net. Also for the first time I discovered the “community” aspect of fandom which I really enjoyed and helped me fight some of that COVID-induced isolation. It was really nice at first. I even began writing my own fics for the first time. And as you can see from my AO3 profile, they were very simple and cutesy in the beginning. Back before I went insane lmao.

But that happiness was short lived, because I kind of had a repeat of what happened when I was 12, only worse. Same pattern of reading some really good Zutara fics and some really bad ones. Zuko is sexually violent towards Katara. Zuko kidnaps Katara. Zuko rapes Katara. The author has some kind of technicality that makes it “not really rape/abuse” when that was clearly the intention. But this time, I was in a “community” with “friends” who promised me I mattered to them and that they cared about me. So I mentioned something about how disturbed I was to see things like this, naïvely thinking they’d understand where I was coming from.

And they…told me I was a bigot.

Yeah so. This was after I’d been sexually assaulted the first time. I also had this older creepy beta reader who I later realized had been sexually grooming me but that’s another story. Anyways! Point is I was in a bad state of mind, especially surrounding the topic of sexual violence, so it really hit me hard to have it used against me like that, made to feel crazy for having a problem with it, and dogpiled on for trying to explain myself and speak out.

Needless to say, I ended up feeling isolated, hurt, and confused by this. Much like I was back at age 12, so I relapsed into bad habits.

Honestly I’d been doing it before the breaking point, just more subtly. If you’ve creeped my AO3, you’ll see various flavors of “femdom” shit there. I like to call that my “I was being groomed lol” era. I had someone basically trying to convince me that male domination was “empowering” and that it was a sign of “maturity” for me to embrace it. Basically trying to convince me most/all women secretly desired it, resisting was a sign she wanted it deep down, I’d come around eventually, etc. Honestly I think this person just liked my writing and wanted me to pump out free fetish content for her, but it kind of backfired since it made me uncomfortable and I ended up just wanting to write femdom and Zuko rapefics because in that situation, it was the only outlet I had to express my hurt and discomfort at being bombarded with that disturbing kind of fic where Zuko is a rapist. I was subconsciously trying to reverse the narrative to escape the misogyny and the trauma I was suffering as a result.

Then after I got out of the grooming situation it just went off the rails from there. Stuff in my personal life was also getting worse so I just had this mass of stress and anger constantly running through my mind. It also really fucked with my sense of identity since the groomer/community I was in sort of left me with the impression that a woman’s role in society is to be objectified and abused and humiliated, and that she’s supposed to embrace it. I don’t think they necessarily intended it that way, but it left me with that impression because I saw so much content like that and barely anything representing women the way I wished to be perceived as a woman. It even made me feel alienated from other woman to the point I didn’t want to be a woman anymore (which is a feeling I’ve grappled with since puberty basically but that’s another story).

I don’t know which fic of mine you’re specifically referring to in which Zuko is raped in graphic detail, but I’m assuming it’s Dark Reflections because that’s probably the most graphic thing I’ve written. That’s the fic I started writing in the middle of that whole mess. It was very cathartic. I went with a female perpetrator against Zuko because it allowed me to fuck with the gender dynamics. A key plot point in that fic is also that Jun’s motivation partly stems from the fact that she mistakenly believes Zuko raped Katara so the idea of taking revenge against Zuko for being a rapist felt more direct. And of course, the reason why it’s so detailed and graphic and contains a lot of typical violent kink shit is because that was all the same shit I’d had thrown at me in the context of Zuko abusing Katara, so I just wanted to give it back to him if that makes sense. It brought me a morbid sense of comfort to see him be abused in the same way. I just have a catharsis generally about men suffering what they make women suffer. I know it’s fucked up, but it was a fucked up part of my life. And for the record I’m not trying to justify it or say it’s okay, I’m kinda of neutral on that tbh. Just acknowledging where my mind was and the fact that it’s a thing that I did.

For what it’s worth now, as I took the time to focus more on healing, I’ve felt less drawn to pure violence. I find myself wanting to write more about the thematic aspects of it and explore it that way. Even with Dark Reflections itself, the fic is incomplete and much longer than I originally intended it to be because I actually do want to go back and work through those themes and unpack what they mean for both the characters and the society they exist in. The more recent things I’ve written have been more along those lines too. Less graphic shocking violence, more philosophical as I pick my own brain and try to make sense of things.

Honestly writing this out helped me organize my brain a lot so idk hopefully it answered your question too.

And yes I know I’m sounding absolutely batshit but this is like my brain’s toxic sewer outlet valve. Believe it or not I am surprisingly normal in real life. I have a dog and big biceps and a cool rock collection and an office job with a nice view and everything. Anyways I’m passing out now. Night.

[caeli0306]

20 questions for writers tag game!

tagged by @widebrimmedhatsblog and @hockeyspiral23

Total number of AO3 works

Nine!

2. Total AO3 word count

287,489

3. Fandoms I've written for

Empyrean and that's literally it lol

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Violet Sorrengail's Guide to Spinning a Scandal, castles crumbling, Tales from the Airport Bathroom, Did Someone Say Shots?, and Did Someone Say Vacation?

5. Do I respond to comments?

Yes! Sometimes it takes me longer to get to them, especially if I get a lot within a short period of time, but I always respond to comments.

6. What has the angstiest ending?

definitely the present, the past, and you in between. That was the first one shot I ever wrote and I still get comments of people being iike "bro why did you do that???"

7. What has the happiest ending?

All of my fics (except for the one mentioned above) have happy endings if they're done, more or less! If I had to choose one, I think it would be VSGTSAS.

8. Have I received hate?

Yes, once, but honestly in my line of work I get so much online hate that I just find it funny. I wrote a very sarcastic response and moved on. One of the reasons I love this fandom is because its super positive and accepting, so why dwell on the single outlier I've come across?

9. Do I write smut? And what kind?

Yes, and as of now just Riorgail

10. Do I write crossovers?

Unless you count the Top Gun AU I've been working on a crossover, then no. I think trying to mix worlds and characters would get too confusing for me, so doing an AU based on another world is about the extent for me.

11. Have I ever had a fic stolen?

As far as I know I have not! Hopefully it stays that way.

12. Have I ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13. Have I ever co written a fic?

I have not! I feel like it would be fun though

14. What is my all time favorite ship?

Riorgail. They are my Roman Empire.

15. A WIP I'll never finish?

So I will always maintain that I will finish everything I start, but if there is any story that I think has a chance of not getting finished, it's Swan Song. I haven't had the inspiration to write it for a while, and my backlog just keeps getting longer. I hope I'll get around to finishing it eventually, but it won't be for a long time.

16. Writing strengths?

I've been told that I write angst well, and that I'm good at writing tension between characters. Personally, I think my ability to research (thank you journalism) and write things as close to realistically as I possibly can is my greatest strength. Not kidding when I say I had a 15 page document of job descriptions for senate office staffers that I got from a friend who works on the Hill back when I was working on VSGTSAS and that bad boy was open the entire time I was writing chapter 4.

17. Writing weaknesses?

I think I struggle to describe movement and action in a way that isn't repetitive, and sometimes my writing sounds a bit robotic (thank you journalism). I also think sometimes my sentences can get a bit convoluted.

18. Do I like foreign language dialogue?

I'm not sure - I don't think I've read any fics with that.

19. First fandom I wrote for?

Empyrean!

20. Favorite fic I've written?

This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I'm going to include Violet Sorrengail's Guide to Spinning a Scandal and castles crumbling because I love them both and they are both my favorite.

I'm tagging @skyfallscotland, @suebswrites, and @witch-and-her-witcher (unsure if any of you have already been tagged!)

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 12

Today’s prompt challenges me once again as I never rarely start fics before they’re completed. By the Grace was the last WIP I followed since the beginning so it’s been a few years, but I’m always willing to make an exception for 25 Days of Drarry and @hprecfest gave me some extra motivation to find another advent fic to follow. This time I don’t have rare pair WIPs to share so I’m reccing two Drarry WIPs, one fairly recent and the other a 2020 fic I’ve been obsessed with ever since day one. Thrilled to be reccing two of my favourite authors here, cannot praise these two gems enough:

Day 12) A WIP you're following:

A Christmas Miracle by @sleepstxtic (E)

Draco is a world-renowned Magi-Diagnostician and Harry is a Cursebreaking Healer, both working in St. Mungo's. They're not-quite-friends, not-quite-lovers, who argue at work and have sex on the weekends. And they're both fine with it, thank you very much. But when a mysterious attack in the hospital leaves Draco trapped in a coma, Harry must do all he can to save him. All the while, an inexplicable, deadly, children's illness is spreading through wizarding London. Oh, and there's some Time Magic thrown into the mix.

just look at that summary! this fic was made for me and after reading the first few paragraphs (such a delightful opening scene!) I knew I’d be breaking my no wip rule and I regret nothing. that, and I also happen to be a slut for work colleagues slash fuck buddies, and Kat delivers in spades as per 😌 this fic is a mix of my fave things like competent Healer!Draco, time travel magic (!!!), case fic, delicious banter between this insufferable Draco and charming Harry. I’m having so much fun and can’t wait to see where this is going!

In The Dark by @bixgirl1 (E)

In the aftermath of an apocalypse, Harry receives an order to find and bring Draco Malfoy nearly a thousand miles, to the tenuous safety of Hogwarts. But more than distance separates them from their goal. The world has fallen, and death is hungry.

I cannot begin to describe how obsessed I am with this wip. even if it never gets finished it will have been so so worth it because this right here is one of the most vivid, creative and impressive world buildings I’ve ever seen. the urgent and dangerous atmosphere is superb and I love love love how Harry and Draco find solace in each other while facing a grim and terrifying inferi apocalypse. brilliant storytelling and delicious slow burn with creative magic, tender romance and heart stopping fight-or-flight sequences. a masterpiece!

[illfoandillfie]

A Different Kind of Eduation: R Is For Role Play (Chapter 12)

ADKoE MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Chapter Summary: Reader steps out of her comfort zone. Roger steps into the past. 

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, degradation (slut/whore/etc), role play, PIV sex, a littlespanking, restrained wrists

Words: 8,007

A/N: I really make you wait for these don’t i lmao. Originally this chapter had more stuff meant to be in it but while writing it I realised it would end up ridiculously long and tbh I would rather give you 2 short chapters than 1 long one. I can’t make any promises about when the next chapter will be up but it should also be on the shorter side so hopefully that makes it a bit easier to write. 

As always *** indicates the smut scene.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave@scorpiogemini

@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod @zeida @demo-wise@yuillfandomqueen @tie-ur-mother-down @rogermyreligion​ 

(idk how many of you are still interested in this fic so if you want your name taken off let me know, or if anyone wants to be added i can also do that)

Once again you found yourself outside Roger’s house, stomach in knots with nerves. Though not the usual nerves. You’d checked the curriculum before you left the house that morning, wanting to be prepared, and the one word that he’d used to describe that week’s lesson had been rolling over in your mind ever since. Roleplay. Somehow the idea of roleplay was more terrifying than all the bondage and spanking in the world could ever be. The arts had never been your forte, and the idea of acting and improvising and playing a character made you feel apprehensive and sweaty. But, you trusted Roger to not force you to do something you really hated the idea of, and so you let yourself in through the front door, as had become the usual custom. You were still providing drinks to accompany the dinners Roger made and, as soon as he saw you, he directed you to grab out a couple of wine glasses from the cupboard. You did so, trying to put your worries about the upcoming topic aside and just enjoy a nice meal with him. Briefly, you wondered if Roger could sense your uneasiness, his gaze settling on you like he was trying to read your thoughts, but then his eyes shifted back to the stove as he asked how your day had been and you gladly accepted the distraction.  

It wasn’t until you were settled at the desk in his study that you felt nervous again. “Okay. Tell me what’s going on, Y/N.” Roger said calmly. You cringed a little that he’d picked up on your discomfort so easily but tried to keep your voice steady as you asked, “Are we looking at roleplay today?” “Yeah, that’s correct. You don’t like the idea?” “I’m doing a biology masters Roger, I’m not an actor. I don’t really want to pretend to get pulled over by a hot cop or whatever.” Roger chucked, “Fair enough. But I’d have thought this would be one you were looking forward to since it’s going to lead up into CNC and all of that.” “It is?” “Mmhmm. I mean, Consensual Non-Consent is just acting out a non-consensual experience. It’s a little more hardcore than the roleplay we’ll start off with, but it is related.”   “Well, when you put it like that...” “A theory lesson can’t hurt, right?” “Depends. The last couple of theory lessons you’ve had me trying prac stuff. What exactly are we going to look at?” “Well, I was going to start off with something easy. We can talk about why people roleplay and go over some of the basic scenarios – the stereotypical stuff like cops and robbers or uh, teacher and student,” he looked mildly uncomfortable but moved passed it quickly, “nurse and patient, that sort of thing. And then we can get into some of the more niche things like petplay and ageplay and then in a couple of weeks, if you’re ready, we can get into CNC and free use and the more intense types of roleplay.” You hummed in thought, “That sounds okay. I am still a little nervous about the more practical side though.” “And what exactly is causing those nerves?” You shrugged, “I already said, I’m not an actor.” “Neither am I. What’s really the reason?” For a half a second you considered arguing that he did have a background in performing for crowds, just with music instead of drama, and so he shouldn’t be allowed to make light of your nerves. But in the end you decided that being stubborn about it would just make him push harder, “I don’t want to look stupid. And I can’t imagine not looking stupid while saying that ive been a naughty girl or whatever you’re going to want me to say.” You could feel your cheeks heat as you spoke and looked down to avoid Roger’s eye.   Roger hummed in thought, “Well, that’s fair enough. No one likes feeling or looking stupid. But, counter point, you don’t have to say anything as cliché as that if you don’t want to. And even if you do say something cliché, I promise it will not feel as stupid in the moment as it would if you said it now.” “Yeah I suppose so, but still.” “Anyway, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s just focus on going over what roleplay is and how people use it in sexual situations. Okay?” You nodded your agreement, hoping that knowing more would help you feel less self-conscious.  

“Right, well, let’s talk about humans for a moment. We’re a creative species. We’ve been telling stories since before writing was invented, it’s in our nature to imagine, to fantasise. So, of course, it’s only natural that those ideas can become sexual. Imagining something allows people to explore desires in a way that’s safe for them, especially if it’s a desire they wouldn’t normally admit to out loud. Its why romance novels are written. Its why people seek out pornography of specific fetishes. So roleplay is a way for people take those imagined situations to the next level, making it more real by actively participating in it. There are a few different forms that roleplay can take. At the most simple it could be wearing a costume associated with a particular role, like a nurse, or with a particular character, like Princess Leia’s slave outfit.” “You’re such a dork.” “That outfit is hot. And it was just an example.” He paused to make sure you weren’t about to interrupt again, “It may just be that wearing the clothes of someone else is enough to satisfy the fantasy, but often there will be a bit more to it. A scenario. You take on those characters and act out a scene. The nurse gives a patient a physical examination, Princess Leia is held captive and tries to bargain for her freedom. There’s some sort of a story involved that the participants act out. And then finally, as an extension of that, there are the taboo roleplays. Things like pet play and age play and CNC. Taboos make people curious, and it’s very natural to think about taboo situations or acts. Roleplaying something taboo gives people a safe way to explore it. And it doesn’t even have to be particularly sexual. Sometimes it’s not about that, it’s just about being someone else, about the feelings you get or the connection with your partner in that unusual situation.” “That makes sense I guess.” “One interesting thing to note is that a lot of the “standard” roleplay scenarios are based in power dynamics,” Roger dropped his hands from where he’d made quotation marks, “a cop has power over whoever they arrested, a nurse has power over a patient, a doctor has power over a nurse. Maid’s serve, kings and queens command, the list goes on. So, why do you think that is?” “Because...Because it’s an easy place to start if you’re interested in dom/sub dynamics?" “That's absolutely part of it. It’s a great way to dabble with kink, to test the waters so to speak. But I think there’s another bigger reason that people, even very vanilla people, might be interested in roleplay. Power dynamics are so prevalent throughout our society. Everyone has a boss; everyone has had an experience with an authority figure. And it is human nature to take something mundane and create a story where it’s more fantastical, more interesting, maybe even less scary. Or, to create a story that switches the power.” “Huh. That’s a really interesting way of thinking about it." “Of course, sometimes getting into a roleplay is how people discover kinks or fetishes and they can be steppingstones to other power based BDSM practices. But I think for most people, roleplay is just something fun that lets them explore something different in an accessible and safe environment. I will admit I did consider starting you off with some roleplay stuff when I was working out the curriculum. I thought that dressing up as someone else might help you feel more comfortable exploring new areas.” “What made you decide to start elsewhere?” Roger shrugged, “I knew that CNC and those areas we’re building to would tie into roleplay and I didn’t want to get too close to them too quickly. And I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be someone else to enjoy any of it." “I think you made the right call.”

Roger smiled for a moment and then seemed to remember he was teaching a lesson, “Okay, Y/N, I want to posit a theory and I want to know what you think about it.” “Okay,” you said a little taken aback but intrigued all the same.   “I suggest that we’ve already experimented with roleplay.” For a moment all you could do was stare in confusion, “But we haven’t.” “What makes you so sure?” “Because we haven’t been playing pretend or dressing up as anything. What we’ve been doing is real.” Roger looked supremely pleased as if you’d fallen into a trap he’d set. “What if I said that roleplay isn’t playing pretend.” “That's literally what you just said it was. Costumes, pretending to be something you’re not.” “Well, okay yes, a lot of the time roleplay can be about that. And that’s why you can walk into any sex shop and find naughty nurse costumes or sexy school uniforms or, fuck, even a sexy Santa outfit. But that’s just a side effect of roleplay being a way to feel like something you're not. I could still pretend to be Santa with all the double entendres about presents and chimneys even without a set of suspenders and red knickers.” You giggled at the image he’d conjured but Roger mostly ignored you. “The costume just helps the suspension of disbelief.” “Okay, sure,” you said, still smiling at the thought of Roger dressed in holiday themed lingerie, “I don’t understand where you’re going with it though.” “Okay well, let’s look at these basic scenarios we’ve been discussing. They take something mundane or even a bit scary – medical check-ups, having a meeting with an authority figure – and turn them into something fun and sexy. And in the process the people involved can explore things that turn them on but that they might feel wary about doing in a non-roleplay situation. Things like being told what to do, or something a little further like handcuffs or punishment spankings. It allows people a chance to try being more dominant or more submissive or even more hyper-sexual than they let themself be in real life. Thus, it’s a way for them to achieve a different headspace or to feel something they wouldn’t ordinarily let themself feel. And isn’t that just what we’ve been doing too?" “No,” you knew you didn’t sound very certain, but you didn’t want to accept he’d been right too quickly. “Okay, let’s look at an example. Take Daisy and Jo and their slave/master dynamic. In real life, by law, you cannot legally own another person. They can call each other the right names, they can agree on who gets to make which decisions, they can put their names down on a slave registry, they could even get Daisy a barcode tattoo if they wanted to go that far. And yet, Daisy is still her own person, Jo doesn’t really own her. Daisy has a job, she has hobbies, she has a life outside of their relationship, and she has her own thoughts in her head, her own autonomy. And you heard how when that autonomy was taken from her in a previous relationship, it stopped being a kinky dynamic and turned into actual abuse. Daisy and Jo play around with things that make them feel psychologically as if one really is the other’s slave but, in reality, she’s not. So, in that case, roleplay is no less real than other parts of BDSM. Roleplay is just the closest approximation we can get to it being real before it crosses into abusive, illegal or dangerous territory.” “That’s a pretty extreme example though,” you counted, feeling as if you were in Roger’s regular classroom discussing the results of an experiment, “What about a stock standard bondage scene?” “I think it still fits. What a lot of people get out of a dom/sub dynamic is feeling control or lack-there-of, right? And isn’t the bondage just a vehicle for making the submissive person feel as if they have no autonomy or to feel as if they can’t escape? Or for making the dominant feel like they have total control over someone else?” “I suppose so,” “Obviously in a safe, sane, and consensual scene that can’t ever really be the case. The sub always has the right to stop things, to say no. There might even be a physical way for them to get out of the bondage if they need to. The ropes just make it feel less like they have the option to get out. Ergo, it’s a form of roleplay. And we can’t ignore spanking. That for most people spanking is intrinsically tied to discipline. That a lot of the ways spanking is portrayed or thought of, both inside and outside the kink community, is related to punishment. That probably the most common spanking scene imaginable is a schoolgirl being punished by her teacher. Dressing up in a short skirt and long socks and a white blouse and promising you’ll do anything for a better grade.” You swallowed thickly, very aware that you were sitting in front of your professor. Roger seemed almost as flustered as you felt as he paused. He plucked his glasses from his nose and began to clean them on his shirt hem, his voice a little quieter when he spoke again, “And you don’t even have to get that specific with it. Just the idea of spanking as punishment within a sexual scenario can be construed as roleplay. Chances are the person being spanked didn’t really do anything bad enough to warrant a physical beating.” He put his glasses back on and the tension from moments before disappeared, “And yet everyone involved pretends they did because they enjoy the act of spanking or being spanked and because it makes them feel secure in the dynamic they’ve built. The dom is in charge, the sub obeys, there are consequences for stepping out of those boundaries. They perform their roles, and it makes them feel good and sexually satisfied and bonds them.” “Fine, okay, maybe you’re right then. But if this was your attempt to make me feel less nervous about doing a roleplay scene in prac, it’s not worked. There is still a difference between the two...even if it’s not as clear as I thought it was.” “No, you’re right, I do think there is a distinction. But I don’t think that distinction is based on one being more real than the other. And really, it’s up to the individual to figure out where that distinction lies for them. But I also think that if we consider them essentially the same thing, or at least closer related than one initially presumes, it can help you remember one very important fact.” “Which is what?” “BDSM is a conscious choice. And to me, knowing it’s a choice offers so much more safety and security than considering it “real” does. Whether I’m acting as the dom or the sub, it's a reminder that everyone involved has actively chosen to be there and if that desire to be there changes, everyone has the option to say as much. Which ultimately makes things more enjoyable.” You’d already known that Roger cared about your safety and how much you enjoyed yourself, but you couldn’t help but be touched by his obvious enthusiasm for the topic and his sincere way of expressing it. It was something you hadn’t been able to properly appreciate when you first started your lessons, but the more time you spent with Roger, the more he voiced his thoughts on sex and BDSM relationships, the more you found yourself admiring him. It made you feel like you’d definitely picked the right person to learn from.  

“We have two options now. Number 1, we can keep going with theory and look at some more specific areas of roleplay, maybe more taboo stuff like pet play and age play. Give you a sense of where roleplay can lead and how different dynamics like that work. Or, number 2, we can discuss some options for a possible prac scene and, if we can settle on something we both like the sound of, maybe we could try it out. I’m going to leave it up to you though. Whatever you're comfortable with. Although I will say, I would feel better about exploring CNC with you the coming weeks if we’d played with a simpler roleplay before then.” “So I have to roleplay then.” “It doesn’t have to be anything big and it doesn’t have to be tonight. But, yes, I would like it if we did.” “Did you have any scenarios in mind for us to do in prac?” “Nothing picked out but I can offer some suggestions you might like.” “Okay, hit me.” Roger hummed in thought, “I mean, basically anything can be a roleplay scenario. 1950s housewife and her husband, royalty and their servant, strangers meeting at a bar, a couple engaging in an adulterous relationship. Even fictional characters are possible. Are you into superheroes? I could be uhhh, I don’t know, Batman? Save you from some danger and you’re so gratefully horny about it.” You snorted, “Maybe something else.” “Do you want to go with something vastly different from our actual lives or something that’s a bit more familiar?” “Umm, maybe something more familiar would be easier to do without feeling like a complete wanker.” “In that case,” he made a clicking sound with his tongue as he considered your options, “you could be the babysitter I hired to look after my kids. Orrrr, I could be a repairman fixing something for you.” You didn’t hate the sound of either of them but also weren’t totally sure you wanted to do either and made an uncertain noise in response.   “I suppose if you wanted we could do a teacher/student thing.” You shook your head, “That’s too much like real life, I think it’d make me feel weird.” “Okay, good,” Roger sounded relieved, “In that case...maybe something with a similar dynamic but less baggage... a boss and employee? You could be asking for a raise or something like that.” You shook your head again, though more out of amusement than disinterest. “There is always a doctor or nurse thing, we both know biology after all. Or, well okay, this one might be a bit weird but hear me out.” “Okay,” “I could be a rockstar and you could be my groupie.” “Oh,” “Is that a good oh or a bad oh?” “Neither I just wasn’t expecting it. But I kind of like it I think.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. I think I could be your groupie.” “Hanging off my every word,” Roger said suggestively, gesturing between you as if to say just like you are right now. “Willing to do whatever it takes to keep my attention.” “Something like that, yeah.” you laughed, “It seems doable.” “Alright, that’s settled then. So what sort of kinks would you want to include?” “Umm the usual stuff I guess, a little bit of degradation, maybe some spanking.” “Bondage?” “I don’t think I feel like that today. Not anything like ropes or cuffs, but I think I’d be okay with you physically holding my wrists or something.” Roger hummed in thought, “That all sounds very reasonable. Any thoughts to positions?” “Umm, not really. I’d be up for most things I think.” “I think I have some ideas then. Are you ready to get started now?” You were a little torn, the part of you that enjoyed having sex with Roger more than ready to go but the part of you that was apprehensive about acting was more in control, “Maybe a little more theory first. And maybe another drink.” “Okay,” Roger gave you a reassuring smile, “I’ll grab us a top up and then we can talk a bit about where we’re going with roleplay.”

When Roger handed you the glass of wine it was hard not to gulp it down in an effort to quell your anxiety.   “You know if you get too drunk we won’t be able to do any prac and we’ll have to come back to it another night. And I’d have to insist on full sobriety that time.” You narrowed your eyes at Roger and took a smaller sip before putting the glass down, “So what else have you got to teach me about roleplay?” “We might as well start talking about the more taboo forms. I mentioned age play before but I don’t get the sense Dylan is particularly interested in it, so I wasn’t intending on going into detail. All you really need to know is that it’s a form of roleplay that involves someone acting a different age than they are, typically younger.” You’d never seen Dylan look at anything like that before and he’d never mentioned it so you felt confident saying, “Yeah, I don’t think Dylan would be into that.”   “Okay, good to know. The other one I mentioned was, of course, CNC. But I don’t want to start on that until we can dedicate a whole lesson to it because it’s complicated and I want to make sure we cover everything. Which leaves just one other example I gave, pet play. How much do you know about it?” “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t really understand it.” “At its most basic, pet play is a kink in which one or more participants role play as an animal.” You dutifully noted down the definition, the familiar act putting you more at ease.   “Technically it comes under a wider umbrella of animal play, but I think pet play would be the more familiar term to most. There are those that engage in animal play as foxes or wolves or even mythical creatures like unicorns and dragons. But pet play as a specific subsection of animal play revolves around acting as more common animals like dogs and cats and horses.” “So, if it’s taboo and about animals, is it like roleplaying bestiality?” “No. Typically engaging in pet play is, like a lot of role play in general, more about exploring different behaviours and desires, than actually being an animal. Someone who explores pet play as a puppy might be attracted to it because it gives them a space to be playful and bouncy and loose. Or it might be because they really like the dynamics involved in being trained to do something. Whereas a someone roleplaying as a kitten might be interested less in the training and more in physical affection while still being able to play and scratch and bite.” “Uh huh,” you weren’t totally sure you understood it, but it did make pretending to be a groupie sound less daunting. “The other thing with pet play is it’s not always about sex. It’s a fun way to show and receive affection – being petted or groomed, curling up on their partner’s lap, playing silly games, just being looked after.” “That does sound kind of nice.” Roger smiled, “Yeah, it can be. But we can get more into that another time. For now, let’s just stick to human role play.” Roger frowned at his phrasing for a second and you couldn’t help but snort and roll your eyes.   “There’ll be none of that when you’re my groupie,” he playfully scolded, giving you a little wink, “Are you ready?” You took a nervous breath, “as I’ll ever be I think.” Roger gave you an affectionate look, "Give me a couple minutes to get a few things ready and then meet me in my music room.”  

*****

As soon as Roger left you reached for your glass again, downing the wine quickly. You poured yourself another half glass and drank as you thought. Groupies. You understood the basic premise and you could see the appeal in sleeping with band members, in an abstract sense. But you weren’t sure how much of what you knew was even close to accurate. You were mostly going off depictions you’d seen in fiction. Roger definitely knew more about it than you did, even if his band had only lasted a short while. So what would he be expecting you to say? How would he expect you to act? It made your stomach twist uncomfortably and you put the glass of wine down. You didn’t feel much like a groupie. Glancing down at your outfit you thought you probably didn’t look much like a groupie either. But maybe you could fix that, at least a little. Roger had mentioned costumes and outfits as a way to help feel more comfortable in a role play scene so, grabbing your bag, you ducked into the nearest bathroom. There wasn’t a lot you could do with your clothes but thankfully you’d taken to wearing skirts whenever you had lessons. The one you’d chosen fell just above your knees, but you were able to fold the waistband over itself a couple of times to shorten it. The shirt was a little harder to alter since it wasn’t a button up. You experimented a bit with tying it up at the hem but didn’t really like the effect so instead settled for just taking your bra off underneath it. The material was thin enough that Roger would probably be able to see your nipples and that definitely sounded like something a groupie would do. You touched up your makeup and applied some lip gloss you found at the bottom of your bag, and then as a finishing touch you shook your hair out to make it seem a little messier. Looking at your reflection you decided that at least you'd been able to do something to alter your appearance. That was when you heard the drumbeat, Roger’s signal that he was ready for you.  

He didn’t seem to be playing any specific song, at least not one you were familiar with, but the beat did make you feel a little more at ease as you headed toward the music room. Something about the background noise made it a little easier to believe your roles. And seeing Roger made it easier still. The door was ajar as you approached it, but you knocked all the same, pushing it open nervously. You noticed the flannel shirt immediately. It must have been one he’d had for a few years because it seemed worn and faded and a little tight around his upper arms. It was completely unbuttoned, his bare chest visible, and you were immediately reminded of the band photo that had been so popular on the university meme pages.   Roger grinned when he saw you, not even attempting to hide the up and down look he gave you as he twirled his drumstick between his fingers.   The movement immediately caught your eye, and you couldn’t help but be turned on, even though you still felt a little silly standing in his doorway.   “Can I help you?” Roger asked when you didn’t say anything. “Oh, um,” you could feel your cheeks warming as you tried to think what to say, “I just wanted to tell you I loved the show.” You cringed a little at what you’d come up with, feeling it was a little cliche, but it must have been alright because Roger responded with a lazy smile.   “Glad to hear it love. How’d you get backstage though?” You heart stopped for a moment as you internally panicked. Why had you spent so long on your appearance without spending a single moment preparing a backstory or anything useful to say.   “Don’t over think it, you’re doing great,” Roger said, dropping the cocky rockstar act and nodding in encouragement. And then, as quick as it had gone, the rockstar was back as Roger relaxed into his seat again, spinning his sticks absentmindedly. “How’d you sneak in?” “No one stopped me,” you shrugged, unable to come up with anything better on the spot. “Well it’s a good thing. I love talking to fans.” His voice dripped with innuendo, and you found yourself swallowing hard in response.   "I was hoping you’d want to...talk. I’m such a big fan.” Roger beckoned you towards him, “Close the door, love, I’d hate for our chat to be interrupted.” Your stomach did another flip, although a much pleasanter one, as you stepped further into the room. It helped that Roger seemed so at ease playing his role. You could easily imagine him playing for a crowd, flushed and sweaty as he banged out a beat. Even now with shorter hair and more of a dad bod, if he announced tomorrow that he was quitting teaching to go back on tour you would have no trouble believing him. He just looked right behind his drums. Not to mention hot as hell.   “Do you want to touch it?”   “Touch what?” you blurted, worried you’d missed something while you’d been distracted by the thought of a sweaty Roger pounding away at his drums. “My kit of course,” he laughed, grabbing your hand and bringing it to one of the cymbals, “You seemed pretty enamoured with it.” “Oh, yeah, it’s um bigger up close than I was expecting.” The cymbal felt cool under your hand but you had to assume that was partly from how warm you felt, embarrassed both at the cheesy line you’d just said and that he’d caught you daydreaming.   “Not the first to tell me that,” he replied with a wink and an easy suggestiveness that made you feel somehow even more warm. “I could show you how to use it.” “I’d love that,” you gushed, not entirely pretending. The drums did seem like fun.

You let Roger lead you around to his side of the kit, his hands settling nicely on your hips as he guided you to sit on his lap. The whole situation made you feel giggly and for a moment you forgot it was role play, wondering at when you’d got so bold as to hit on a rockstar but glad that it seemed to be working. And it definitely seemed to be working if the semi pressing into your backside was anything to go off. You suspected you were not the only one who’d felt the need to get rid of underwear. Roger’s breath hitched softly as you wriggled against him and he quickly guided his leg between yours, putting you on his thigh rather than his lap. You didn’t mind so much though, especially when he shifted, and his thigh pressed up into your cunt. Roger’s hands meanwhile were also moving, rising up your sides, the light trail of his touch making you shiver and your stomach clench with anticipation as he neared your breasts. You nearly groaned in disappointment when he pulled them away too soon and heard Roger chuckle in your ear as he reached for you hands instead. He pressed the drumsticks against your palms and then wrapped his hands over yours, guiding your movements to bang out a simple beat. The drumming was fun but it was hard to focus when his hands felt so warm and large against yours, and his breath tickled the side of your neck.   “You’re a natural,” You grinned, feeling quite pleased with yourself, until you gasped when Roger pressed his foot down on the kick drum pedal and you bounced on his thigh unexpectedly.   “Too fast for ya?” he asked cockily. You turned your head to try to see him better, “No, I’m a quick learner.” “Well show me what you’ve got then.” His hands moved down to your hips again, pulling you snuggly against his chest. It was enough of a distraction that he had to prompt you again, leaving you flustered as you hurried to comply.   “Harder than that, love,” He said when you produced a much quieter sound than he had, “Really pound it.” He emphasised the word with another stamp of his foot. Your second attempt was better but apparently not quite to Roger’s standards because he grabbed your chin to make you look at him again.   “Do you need me to show you how?” Words completely failed you so you just nodded, your stomach in knots with anticipation, practically able to feel the wet patch growing against his thigh.   Roger’s gaze flicked down to your lips as you both held the moment for a second longer, and then he was surging forward eagerly. His hand moved to your neck as he claimed you, his other still at your waist though his grip had tightened to keep you in place.   The drumsticks clattered to the ground and you couldn’t help the little moan that slipped out into his mouth, finally having an outlet for all the tension that had been building since you entered the room. The sound just made Roger smile, his lips quirking cockily against yours as his hands began to roam, down your thighs, pushing your skirt higher, toying with your undies.   “Don’t need these,” his tone making it clear you should have left them in your bag with your bra, as he pulled them down your thighs.   You raised yourself a little to help him, feeling as if you had to make up for wearing them in the first place. Roger seemed pleased with your initiative, or at least pleased that he could easily access your pussy, his fingers slipping between your lips. “So wet already,” he half moaned, two fingertips toying with your entrance.   You gasped again as he worked both digits into you, pausing a moment when he was around the first knuckle so you could adjust. But he didn’t wait long before he drew them back a little and then pushed them in deeper, and then again, clearly impatient to get you ready enough to take his cock. You were growing impatient too, your head still spinning from his kiss and from how good just his hand felt between your legs. “Rog please,” you whined, trying to sink down on his fingers, though the position made it difficult, “‘m ready.” “Yeah? Ready for my cock, huh love?”   You nodded and groaned, desperate to convince him as he continued fingering you.   Roger just chuckled, “Of course you are. It’s the whole reason you came here, isn’t it. To be fucked by a rockstar.” You nodded quickly, ready to agree to just about anything he said.   “That’s what I thought,” he almost growled as he drew his zipper down and freed his cock. His hands came back to you then and you let him guide you to stand, shifting around so that when he pulled you back down, you were aligned with his cock rather than his thigh.   You moaned as his tip breached you, his cock stretching you much more than his fingers had. But it was a very good stretch and one you were more or less used to by now. You didn’t even mind that he didn’t give you time to adjust, just kept pulling you onto his lap, making you take his whole shaft much quicker than he usually would.  

When you were finally seated fully, legs between Rogers’, your skirt rucked up under his palms, and your pussy stretched around the base of his shaft, both of you moaned almost in unison.   “Fuck, love,” he groaned against your ear, “taking me so well.” The praise made you squirm, and Roger moaned again as you tightened momentarily around him.   “Jesus. Whores like you are my favourite part of this job.” He managed to get out through his heavy breaths. You whimpered, continuing to wriggle in place, Roger’s hands still grasping you making it unclear whether or not you were allowed to move.   “You don’t need to tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had, I know I am.” Roger chuckled, the cocky rockstar act back in full force, “So why don’t you show me how grateful for my cock you are and ride me.” You didn’t need to be told twice, placing your palms against his legs to help steady yourself as you began moving as best you could. You never let too much of him escape your heat, raising up just enough and then dropping your arse back into his lap. As you found a good rhythm, his hands began to wander, squeezing your breasts through your shirt at first, though he quickly pushed the material up until your chest was exposed and he was free to grope you as much as he wanted.   “That’s right, fuck yourself just like that,” he growled, “feel amazing on my cock, love.” The praise only made you moan more, especially since he said it like you were lucky to be pleasuring him at all. But you knew that, despite the attitude, he really meant what he said. He was breathing hard against your neck, making you shiver as he let out little moans each time you sank down on his shaft. And then there was the drum. Roger’s foot was still on the pedal and whenever you tightened around him enough or moved at just the right angle, he'd jolt like he wanted to spear up into you and a sudden stuttered bang would sound. You chased the sound of the drum almost as much as the sound of his moans, both making it seem like he was losing control, like you were cracking through his arrogant attitude.  

But Roger wasn’t going to make it too easy for you. Whether because he was intent on finishing his lesson or he was just so lost in how fucking hot the groupie roleplay was, you couldn’t tell. It added up to the same thing though. He pulled your arms behind your back and gathered your wrists together in one hand.   You whined and halted your movements but Roger tutted at you condescendingly.   “Is my cock too much for you? Maybe one of the other girls could handle me better.” You shook your head, “No, I just-” “Shhh love, I don’t care. Just ride me.” You whimpered but that seemed to amuse Roger more than anything.   “Already admitted you came here for my cock and believe me, love, you’re not the only one. So do what I say or I’ll find another slut who’s willing to do whatever I want.” The thought of him kicking you out before either of you finished was nearly as distressing as the thought of him replacing you with someone else. You quickly began moving again, trying to get back into a good rhythm. It was harder to ride him without the leverage your arms had given, relying on your leg muscles alone as you raised and lowered yourself. But the struggle just made it all the hotter. And Roger must have agreed because he groaned again, even though you couldn’t manage to move as much as before.   “Such a hot cunt,” he moaned, “don’t stop.” You whined as you felt his grip on your wrists tighten but didn’t dare stop riding him even though the effort was making you pant and your thighs were beginning to burn.   Roger’s breath hitched as you next sank down, “M-might have to keep y-ou around all t-tour.” He grunted. The thought made you moan and you found yourself hoping he meant it, hoping you could accompany him on the bus and share his hotel rooms. As if reading your thoughts Roger grunted, “Fuck you when-whenever I want. Y-ou’d like th-at.” It wasn’t a question but you answered anyway, a breathy, “yes,” falling from you as you desperately tried to keep fucking down on Roger’s cock.   Thankfully your unexpected response had an effect on Roger. He let your wrists go suddenly, growling as he manhandled you off his lap. Pushing you to stand, you felt yourself bent forward over the drum kit as Roger took over fucking you.   You braced yourself as much as you could, the drums rattling a little as you leaned on them. Mostly you were just glad your legs were getting a break, and thankful that your cunt was being stuffed at a faster pace. All you could do was moan at how good it felt, and brokenly plead with Roger not to stop. It was perhaps the loudest you’d ever been with anyone, not just Roger, but it wasn’t a conscious decision. They were not the sounds expected from a science major who was in the middle of a sexual awakening with her professor. They were the sounds of an eager groupie. Unashamed and unapologetic.  

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” As if to prove that he was in charge, Roger paused, holding your hips so tight you couldn’t even squirm on the cock filling you, "Fucking cockwhore, aren’t you love?” You whined but nodded. Roger just chuckled and then picked up where he’d left, one hand moving up your back to hold in you in place as he railed into you, one hand slipping down to rub your clit sloppily.   The tension in your stomach nearly had you sobbing, so close to orgasm, and without worrying about how you sounded, you began begging Roger to make you cum. It nearly pulled him from the scene. He’d hoped you’d get into it, lose your inhibitions and enjoy playing pretend, but he’d not expected to hear anything so wanton from you. He miraculously kept the rhythm of his thrusts, but momentarily lost his voice, managing only a moan at your desperation and then a croaky, “You gonna cum?” It wasn’t nearly as commanding or demanding as he’d been moments before, but he cleared his throat and said it again as a statement rather than a question.   You were too far gone to notice the slip, nodding in answer to both. Roger’s lapse passed and he lay a spank against your arse, “Words, whore.” “Y-yes, yes, ‘m gonna cum. Fuck, please.”   He spanked you again, chuckling at your pussy’s response, before moving back to your clit, his fingers more deliberate this time. “Go o-n then love,” his breathing was heavier, strained from the effort of fucking you as well as his own approaching climax, “Cum on m-y cock and I-I’ll give it to you e-every night – of the tour.” It didn’t take much more than that and the pleasure crashed into you, Your legs trembling as Roger kept fucking you.   He was swearing at how tight you felt, managing to get out half formed thoughts about how desperate for his cum you were and how jealous the rest of the band would be that you’d gone to him. To an observer it would have been unintelligible gibberish. So, it was probably good that you barely registered it, much more concerned with how it felt as Roger came too, his hips pressing against you, his cock pushed as deep as he could get it, filling you with his warm cum.  

*****

You came back to yourself, still bent over the drum kit, still full of Roger’s cock, his heavy breaths hot on your skin as he gently stroked your arm. The embarrassment came quickly after that, your skin burning as you cringed at everything you remembered saying. Roger pressed his lips to the back of your neck, “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” You nodded, half wishing he’d stay put just so you could avoid looking at him for a bit longer.   But he didn’t. He hissed a little as he eased himself from between your legs, apologising when you reacted similarly, and then turned you around, cupping your face in both palms as he kissed you properly, on the lips.   You tried to push your embarrassment aside and enjoy the kiss but it was hard to do when you kept thinking about how ridiculous you must have sounded. In fact, you were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice the sound of Roger’s fly being done up or him gently pulling your underwear back up your legs. “Thanks,” you mumbled when you realised, his palms warms where he smoothed the fabric now on your hips, grateful that he’d thought of it before cum started dripping out of you. “Guess I should clean up.” Roger caught you around the waste and shook his head, retaking his seat as he guided you onto his lap again. Only this time you were facing him so he could kiss you more.  

By the time he pulled away you were feeling marginally better, telling yourself if you’d been too much of an embarrassment, he wouldn’t want to make out so soon.   “See, wasn’t that fun?” he asked, his knuckle brushing against your jaw. You made an evasive gesture, “I guess so, yeah.” “C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it when you got so into it.” “I really wasn’t expecting that. I must have sounded like an idiot.” “What? No.” Roger seemed perplexed by your statement, “Try insanely sexy.” “Really?” “Absolutely Y/N. You were perfect. I knew it was going to be fun the moment I saw you’d altered your outfit. Because that meant you were going to give it a proper try.” You smiled shyly, “It was fun.” “There we go, yeah it was!” “I assume it’s not always like that though.” “No,” he shook his head, “I mean, it depends. Sometimes you can be fully emersed in the scenario like tonight, and sometimes you know you’re both just saying lines. But that doesn’t make it less hot. Would you want to experiment more with role play?” You thought about it for a moment, “I guess I’d be open to it.” Knowing Roger, you were sure he’d ask for more details so hastened to add, “I am a little curious about how pet play works now.” Roger seemed surprised, “I was meaning like trying other scenarios – the nurse thing maybe, or... but yeah, if you want to know more about pet play I think I can teach it.” “Oh, I- fuck,” you buried your face in Roger’s neck, feeling likely to die from embarrassment if you opened your mouth again. But Roger just chuckled, rubbing your back softly, “It’s good that you told me, Y/N. I want to know what you’re curious about.” “I guess so,” you said managing to lift your head high enough for Roger to press his lips to your temple, “I'm just curious how it works because it sounds a bit weird. Especially after tonight, cause like, I imagine it’d be harder to feel fully immersed in the scenario when you’re pretending to be an animal. It’s so different from pretending to be a groupie.” “I love that you’re curious. I’ll have the kids from Thursday night until Sunday but, if you want to, we could do this again tomorrow or Wednesday to fit in a bonus lesson about pet play. Would that work?” You nodded, managing to meet his eye briefly but looking down again as you said, “Wednesday would work. And maybe, if I don’t want to try pet play we can do the nurse thing instead.” “That’s a great plan,” Roger smiled, gently tilting your head up so he could kiss you again.   You melted into him, almost disappointed when he stopped. It might have just been a projection of your own feelings but you got the sense that Roger didn’t quite want to stop either.   All the same, he did, his hands lingering. “I should let you go and clean up.” “Yeah,” you nodded, “I should probably be going soon.” It was at least another thirty seconds before his hands left you and you stood up.