#like if i actually think of literal in universe difficulty

[prokopetz]

Not posting this as a reblog because I don't want to screw with somebody else's notes, but the whole "theological implications of Tolkien's orcs" business has some interesting history behind it.

In brief, a big part of why the Lord of the Rings Extended Universe™ is so cagey about what orcs are and where they come from is that later in his life, Tolkien came to believe that orcs as he'd depicted them were problematic – albeit not because of, you know, all the grotesque racial caricature.

Rather, he'd come to the conclusion that the idea of an inherently evil sapient species – a species that's incapable of seeking salvation – was incompatible with Christian ethics. Basically, it's one of those "used the wrong formula and got the right answer" situations.

In his notes and letters, Tolkien played around with several potential solutions to this problem. (Though contrary to the assertions of certain self-proclaimed Tolkien scholars, there's no evidence that he ever seriously planned to re-write his previous works to incorporate these ideas.) In one proposal, orcs are incarnated demons, and "killing" them simply returns them to their naturally immaterial state; in another, orcs are a sort of fleshy automaton remotely operated by the will of Sauron, essentially anticipating the idea of drone warfare.

Of course, this is all just historical trivia; any criticism of The Lord of the Rings must be directed at the books that were actually published, not the books we imagine might have been published if Tolkien had spent a few more years thinking through the implications of what he was writing. However, the direction of his thoughts on the matter is striking for two reasons:

Tolkien's orc conundrum is very nearly word for the word the problem that many contemporary fantasy authors are grappling with fifty years later. They want epic battles with morally clean heroes, and they're running up against exactly the same difficulty that Tolkien himself did – i.e., that describing a human-like species who are ontologically okay to kill is an impossible task.

After all the work he put into solving this impossible problem, one of Tolkien's proposals was literally just "what if they're not really killing the orcs, they're just sending them to the Shadow Realm?"

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil,

I read all your books, but today I’d like to share my story about The Graveyard Book. It’s a bit long.

I remember that I listened to the audio book in almost pitch black in a park, before I actually read that book. It was in winter, and the park was covered in deep snow. I walked through a path between some dark and tall pine trees. There, your voice read the story in my headphones. The story began with something about “a knife in the darkness”.

I wasn’t exactly existed to the rest of the world at the time. I have development disorder (Ok I have autism but not the smart kind that most people would have imagined), I have intellectual disabilities, I was very delayed in development, and it took me years to learn the simplest things most people would learn as toddlers. I was homeschooled at times and when I actually went to school it was in an untraditional way.

Now I’m not sure what was happening when I heard/read The Grave Book for the first time, but I remember I wan’t anywhere in this world and wasn’t really doing anything. I was in between.

I love the idea about the goblins’ underground world very much. I also love the idea about befriending ghosts. I dreamt to have ghost friends. I literally dreamt about me chasing after some ghosts, hoping they can be my friends but they were too social-phobic and they always scattered away.

But most of all I love what Bod said, ‘I want to see life. I want to hold it in my hands. I want to leave a footprint on the sand of a desert island. I want to play football with people. I want…I want everything.’

This was exactly what I thought at the time. I’m disabled, I can be uncomfortable in many environments, I get tired easily, I get into troubles or difficulties very often. I can’t stand the noise, but I wish I could be in the Rock music concert and actually enjoy it without pain. People thought we don’t want them. But I want them, I want everything.

Well, I guess you know what happened next: “Between now and then, there was Life; and Bod walked into it with his eyes and his heart wide open.” I did this and I’m still doing it. I’m nearly thirty now, but I feel that my life had yet to start. I went abroad, I came NZ just as you did. I’m in a university and I haven’t graduated.

And I’d like to think that when I’m in my 60s I can do everything, just like you and my elderly friends, I’ll get a very big dog and a very tiny house, I’ll be able to play music with other people in my garden, and we dance.

You will dance.

[cy-cyborg]

Dealing with Healing and Disability in fantasy: Writing Disability

[ID: An image of the main character from Eragon, a white teenage boy with blond hair in silver armour as he sits, with his hand outstretched. On his hand is a glowing blue mark. He is visibly straining as he attempts to heal a large creature in front of him. /End ID]

I'm a massive fan of the fantasy genre, which is why it's so incredibly frustrating when I see so much resistance to adding disability representation to fantasy works. People's go-to reason for leaving us out is usually something to the effect of "But my setting has magic so disability wouldn't exist, it can just be healed!" so let's talk about magic, specifically healing magic, in these settings, and how you can use it without erasing disability from your story.

Ok, let's start with why you would even want to avoid erasing disability from a setting in the first place. I talked about this in a lot more detail in my post on The Miracle Cure. this line of thinking is another version of this trope, but applied to a whole setting (or at least, to the majority of people in the setting) instead of an individual, so it's going to run into the same issues I discussed there. To summarise the points that are relevant to this particular version of the trope though:

Not every disabled person wants or needs a cure - many of us see our disability as a part of our identity. Do difficulties come with being disabled? absolutely! It's literally part of the definition, but for some people in the disabled community, if you took our disabilities away, we would be entirely different people. While it is far from universal, there is a significant number of us who, if given a magical cure with no strings attached, would not take it. Saying no one in your setting would be disabled because these healing spells exists ignores this part of the community.

It messes with the stakes of your story - Just like how resurrecting characters or showing that this is something that is indeed possible in the setting can leave your audience feeling cheated or like they don't have to worry about a character *actually* ever dying. healing a character's disability, or establishing that disability doesn't exist in your setting because "magic" runs into the same problem. It will leave your readers or viewers feeling like they don't have to worry about your characters getting seriously hurt because it will only be temporary, which means your hero's actions carry significantly less risk, which in turn, lowers the stakes and tension if not handled very, very carefully.

It's an over-used trope - quite plainly and simply, this trope shows up a lot in the fantasy genre, to the point where I'd say it's just overused and kind of boring.

So with the "why should you avoid it" covered, let's look at how you can actually handle the topic.

Limited Access and Expensive Costs

One of the most common ways to deal with healing and disability in a fantasy setting, is to make the healing magic available, but inaccessible to most of the population. The most popular way to do that is by making the services of a magical healer capable of curing a disability really expensive to the point that most people just can't afford it. If this is the approach you're going to use, you also typically have to make that type of magic quite rare. To use D&D terms, if every first level sorcerer, bard, cleric and druid can heal a spinal injury, it's going to result in a lot of people who are able to undercut those massive prices and the expense will drop as demand goes down. If that last sentence didn't give you a hint, this is really popular method in stories that are critiquing capitalistic mindsets and ideologies, and is most commonly used by authors from the USA and other countries with a similar medical system, since it mirrors a lot of the difficulties faced by disabled Americans. If done right, this approach can be very effective, but it does need to be thought through more carefully than I think people tend to do. Mainly because a lot of fantasy stories end with the main character becoming rich and/or powerful, and so these prohibitively expensive cure become attainable by the story's end, which a lot of authors and writer's just never address. Of course, another approach is to make the availability of the magic itself the barrier. Maybe there just aren't that many people around who know the magic required for that kind of healing, so even without a prohibitive price tag, it's just not something that's an option for most people. If we're looking at a D&D-type setting, maybe you need to be an exceptionally high level to cast the more powerful healing spell, or maybe the spell requires some rare or lost material component. I'd personally advise people to be careful using this approach, since it often leads to stories centred around finding a miracle cure, which then just falls back into that trope more often than not.

Just outright state that some characters don't want/need it

Another, admittedly more direct approach, is to make it that these "cures" exist and are easily attainable, but to just make it that your character or others they encounter don't want or need it. This approach works best for characters who are born with their disabilities or who already had them for a long time before a cure was made available to them. Even within those groups though, this method works better with some types of characters than others depending on many other traits (personality, cultural beliefs, etc), and isn't really a one-size-fits-all solution, but to be fair, that's kind of the point. Some people will want a cure for their disabilities, others are content with their body's the way they are. There's a few caveats I have with this kind of approach though:

you want to make sure you, as the author, understand why some people in real life don't want a cure, and not just in a "yeah I know these people exist but I don't really get it" kind of way. I'm not saying you have to have a deep, personal understanding or anything, but some degree of understanding is required unless you want to sound like one of those "inspirational" body positivity posts that used to show up on Instagram back in the day.

Be wary when using cultural beliefs as a reasoning. It can work, but when media uses cultural beliefs as a reason for turning down some kind of cure, it's often intending to critique extreme beliefs about medicine, such as the ones seen in some New Age Spirituality groups and particularly intense Christian churches. As a general rule of thumb, it's probably not a good idea to connect these kinds of beliefs to disabled people just being happy in their bodies. Alternatively, you also need to be mindful of the "stuck in time" trope - a trope about indigenous people who are depicted as primitive or, as the name suggests, stuck in an earlier time, for "spurning the ways of the white man" which usually includes medicine or the setting's equivalent magic. I'm not the best person to advise you on how to avoid this specific trope, but my partner (who's Taino) has informed me of how often it shows up in fantasy specifically and we both thought it was worth including a warning at least so creators who are interested in this method know to do some further research.

Give the "cures" long-lasting side effects

Often in the real world, when a "cure" for a disability does exist, it's not a perfect solution and comes with a lot of side effects. For example, if you loose part of your arm in an accident, but you're able to get to a hospital quickly with said severed arm, it can sometimes be reattached, but doing so comes at a cost. Most people I know who had this done had a lot of issues with nerve damage, reduced strength, reduced fine-motor control and often a great deal of pain with no clear source. Two of the people I know who's limbs were saved ended up having them optionally re-amputated only a few years later. Likewise, I know many people who are paraplegics and quadriplegics via spinal injuries, who were able to regain the use of their arms and/or legs. However, the process was not an easy one, and involved years of intense physiotherapy and strength training. For some of them, they need to continue to do this work permanently just to maintain use of the effected limbs, so much so that it impacts their ability to do things like work a full-time job and engage in their hobbies regularly, and even then, none of them will be able bodied again. Even with all that work, they all still experience reduced strength and reduced control of the limbs. depending on the type, place and severity of the injury, some people are able to get back to "almost able bodied" again - such was the case for my childhood best friend's dad, but they often still have to deal with chronic pain from the injury or chronic fatigue.

Even though we are talking about magic in a fantasy setting, we can still look to real-life examples of "cures" to get ideas. Perhaps the magic used has a similar side effect. Yes, your paraplegic character can be "cured" enough to walk again, but the magic maintaining the spell needs a power source to keep it going, so it draws on the person's innate energy within their body, using the very energy the body needs to function and do things like move their limbs. They are cured, but constantly exhausted unless they're very careful, and if the spell is especially strong, the body might struggle to move at all, resulting in something that looks and functions similar to the nerve damage folks with spinal injuries sometimes deal with that causes that muscle weakness and motor control issues. Your amputee might be able to have their leg regrown, but it will always be slightly off. The regrown leg is weaker and causes them to walk with a limp, maybe even requiring them to use a cane or other mobility aid.

Some characters might decide these trade-offs are worth it, and while this cures their initial disability, it leaves them with another. Others might simply decide the initial disability is less trouble than these side effects, and choose to stay as they are.

Consider if these are actually cures

Speaking of looking to the real world for ideas, you might also want to consider whether these cures are doing what the people peddling them are claiming they do. Let's look at the so-called autism cures that spring up every couple of months as an example.

Without getting into the… hotly debated specifics, there are many therapies that are often labelled as "cures" for autism, but in reality, all they are doing is teaching autistic people how to make their autistic traits less noticeable to others. This is called masking, and it's a skill that often comes at great cost to an autistic person's mental health, especially when it's a behaviour that is forced on them. Many of these therapies give the appearance of being a cure, but the disability is still there, as are the needs and difficulties that come with it, they're just hidden away. From an outside perspective though, it often does look like a success, at least in the short-term. Then there are the entirely fake cures with no basis in reality, the things you'll find from your classic snake-oil salesmen. Even in a fantasy setting where real magic exists, these kinds of scams and misleading treatments can still exist. In fact, I think it would make them even more common than they are in the real world, since there's less suspension of disbelief required for people to fall for them. "What do you mean this miracle tonic is a scam? Phil next door can conjure flames in his hand and make the plants grow with a snap of his fingers, why is it so hard to believe this tonic could regrow my missing limb?"

I think the only example of this approach I've seen, at least recently, is from The Owl House. The magic in this world can do incredible things, but it works in very specific and defined ways. Eda's curse (which can be viewed as an allegory for many disabilities and chronic illnesses) is seemingly an exception to this, and as such, nothing is able to cure it. Treat it, yes, but not cure it. Eda's mother doesn't accept this though, and seeks out a cure anyway and ends up falling for a scam who's "treatments" just make things worse.

In your own stories, you can either have these scams just not work, or kind of work, but in ways that are harmful and just not worth it, like worse versions of the examples in the previous point. Alternatively, like Eda, it's entirely reasonable that a character who's been the target of these scams before might just not want to bother anymore. Eda is a really good example of this approach handled in a way that doesn't make her sad and depressed about it either. She's tried her mum's methods, they didn't work, and now she's found her own way of dealing with it that she's happy with. She only gets upset when her boundaries are ignored by Luz and her mother.

Think about how the healing magic is actually working

If you have a magic system that leans more on the "hard magic" side of things, a great way to get around the issue of healing magic erasing disability is to stop and think about how your healing magic actually works.

My favourite way of doing this is to make healing magic work by accelerating the natural processes of your body. Your body will, given enough time (assuming it remains infection-free) close a slash from a sword and mend a broken bone, but it will never regrow it's own limbs. It will never heal damage to it's own spinal cord. It will never undo whatever causes autism or fix it's own irregularities. Not without help. Likewise, healing magic alone won't do any of these things either, it's just accelerating the existing process and usually, by extension making it safer, since a wound staying open for an hour before you get to a healer is much less likely to get infected than one that slowly and naturally heals over a few weeks. In one of my own works, I take this even further by making it that the healing magic is only accelerating cell growth and repair, but the healer has to direct it. In order to actually heal, the healer needs to know the anatomy of what they're fixing to the finest detail. A spell can reconnect a torn muscle to a bone, but if you don't understand the structures that allow that to happen in the first place, you're likely going to make things worse. For this reason, you won't really see people using this kind of magic to, say, regrow limbs, even though it technically is possible. A limb is a complicated thing. The healer needs to be able to perfectly envision all the bones, the cartilage, the tendons and ligaments, the muscles (including the little ones, like those found in your skin that make your hair stand on end and give you goose bumps), the fat and skin tissues, all the nerves, all the blood vessels, all the structures within the bone that create your blood. Everything, and they need to know how it all connects, how it is supposed to move and be able to keep that clearly in their mind simultaneously while casting. Their mental image also has to match with the patient's internal "map" of the body and the lost limb, or they'll continue to experience phantom limb sensation even if the healing is successful. It's technically possible, but the chances they'll mess something up is too high, and so it's just not worth the risk to most people, including my main character.

Put Restrictions on the magic

This is mostly just the same advice as above, but for softer magic systems. put limits and restrictions on your healing magic. These can be innate (so things the magic itself is just incapable of doing) or external (things like laws that put limitations on certain types of magic and spells).

An example of internal restriction can be seen in how some people interpret D&D's higher level healing spells like regenerate (a 7th level spell-something most characters won't have access to for quite some time). The rules as written specify that disabilities like lost limbs can be healed using this spell, but some players take this to mean that if a character was born with the disability in question, say, born without a limb, regenerate would only heal them back to their body's natural state, which for them, is still disabled.

An external restriction would be that your setting has outlawed healing magic, perhaps because healing magic carries a lot of risks for some reason, eithe to the caster or the person being healed, or maybe because the healing magic here works by selectively reviving and altering the function of cells, which makes it a form of necromancy, just on a smaller scale. Of course, you can also use the tried and true, "all magic is outlawed" approach too. In either case, it's something that will prevent some people from being able to access it, despite it being technically possible. Other external restrictions could look like not being illegal, per say, but culturally frowned upon or taboo where your character is from.

But what if I don't want to do any of this?

Well you don't have to. These are just suggestions to get you thinking about how to make a world where healing magic and disability exist, but they aren't the only ways. Just the ones I thought of.

Of course, if you'd still rather make a setting where all disability is cured because magic and you just don't want to think about it any deeper, I can't stop you. I do however, want to ask you to at least consider where you are going to draw the line. Disability, in essence, is what happens when the body stops (or never started) functioning "normally". Sometimes that happens because of an injury, sometimes it's just bad luck, but the boundary between disabled and not disabled is not as solid as I think a lot of people expect it to be, and we as a society have a lot of weird ideas about what is and isn't a disability that just, quite plainly and simply, aren't consistent. You have to remember, a magic system won't pick and choose the way we humans do, it will apply universally, regardless of our societal hang-ups about disability.

What do I mean about this?

Well, consider for a moment, what causes aging? it's the result of our body not being able to repair itself as effectively as it used to. It's the body not being able to perform that function "normally". So in a setting where all disability is cured, there would be no aging. No elderly people. No death from old age. If you erase disability, you also erase natural processes like aging. magic won't pick and choose like that, not if you want it to be consistent.

Ok, ok, maybe that's too much of a stretch, so instead, let's look at our stereotypical buff hero covered in scars because he's a badass warrior. but in a world where you can heal anything, why would anything scar? Even if it did, could another healing spell not correct that too? Scars are part of the body's natural healing process, but if no natural healing occurred, why would a scar form? Scars are also considered disabling in and of themselves too, especially large ones, since they aren't as flexible or durable as normal skin and can even restrict growth and movement.

Even common things like needing glasses are, using this definition of disability at least, a disability. glasses are a socially accepted disability aid used to correct your eyes when they do not function "normally".

Now to be fair, in reality, there are several definitions of disability, most of which include something about the impact of society. For example, in Australia (according to the Disability Royal Commission), we define disability as "An evolving concept that results from the interaction between a person with impairment(s) and attitudinal and environmental barriers that hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others." - or in laymen's terms, the interaction between a person's impairment and societal barriers like people not making things accessible or holding misinformed beliefs about your impairment (e.g. people in wheelchairs are weaker than people who walk). Under a definition like this, things like scars and needing glasses aren't necessarily disabilities (most of the time) but that's because of how our modern society sees them. The problem with using a definition like this though to guide what your magic system will get rid of, is that something like a magic system won't differentiate between an "impairment" that has social impacts that and one that doesn't. It will still probably get rid of anything that is technically an example of your body functioning imperfectly, which all three of these things are. The society in your setting might apply these criteria indirectly, but really, why would they? Very few people like the side effects of aging on the body (and most people typically don't want to die), the issues that come with scars or glasses are annoying (speaking as someone with both) and I can see a lot of people getting rid of them when possible too. If they don't then it's just using the "not everyone wants it approach" I mentioned earlier. If there's some law or some kind of external pressure to push people away from fixing these more normalised issues, then it's using the "restrictions" method I mentioned earlier too.

Once again, you can do whatever you like with your fantasy setting, but it's something I think that would be worth thinking about at least.

[sabahs-stuff]

Manifesting appearance change.

(It seems like everyone has some difficulties when it comes to appearance changes, so let's talk about it. )

Manifestation is easy. But some people find it complicated when it comes to appearance changes since you're constantly living with it, and it's just hard to say the opposite when you constantly see that you have curly hair and say, All day no, I've got straight, and it actually is stressful, and then you cry, calling yourself worthless and saying that you can't do this bla bla, doubting your entire existence. It's all just a whole mess.  🤦‍♀️

You're reading this probably because you want something—something that other manifestation coaches haven't said before, something new. If you ask them, they'll all tell you to keep affirming no matter what, but that's not enough for you. You need to go step by step. 😂 Yeah, I've been there. 

 

"Your appearance is constantly changing. Yeah constantly"

 

Ever noticed Every new born on the planet being born looking the same? They didn't look a certain way. And since you don't have any active thoughts when you're 1 or 2 years old, of course your parents are going to assume things for you, maybe saying, Oh, she looks exactly like her dad. She has eyes like her mother. That's an assumption. Then some other people are going to tell you, Oh, you look like your mother. Then, even though you can't acknowledge that your brain believes that yeah, I do look like my mother,. 

Now for me, if I see a new born, it looks like every new born. But somehow the parents can tell if their nose or eyebrow looks like the father or mother. 😂 when you're in your mother's womb, she already has an assumption about you. Maybe she thinks her child is going to look like the father. 

Some people who are new to learning about manifestation are told that if you affirm nonstop, you're going to change the way you look. After all your life, you believed that you looked like your father. Now someone has told you, bro, you can change your entire face with your brain. No one is going to believe it. I'm not limiting your beliefs. You would need a little time for yourself. So give yourself time before stating that manifestation ain't real.

And I always talk about beliefs. Yeah, it would take some time, depending on your beliefs. Ever wondered why manifestation coaches always get everything so fast because they know that the 3D is their own assumptions.

"You're 3D is your past" And if your current 3D is your past, Think about it: your 3D is that you don't look the way you want, but you know you have your desires in 4D. What did I tell you? 3D is your past. So tell me, where should you start affirming? The 3D or the 4D? Yeah, exactly from the 4D. It's like you already have a phone but are still affirming you want one.

"the 3D is your past life," it's actually a thing. The present you are experiencing now is literally your past. I'm not a science student; I'm just sharing my knowledge. But the brain is more than you think it is. Maybe I need to read more on that topic, and then I'll be able to explain it more. Now that we all understand the fact that our current situation (3d) is based on our own assumptions and others. These are old assumptions this is why you're experiencing whatever is happening in your life right now.

Let's talk about beliefs. We all believe in something, maybe God or the universe, right? ButHave we ever seen the actual universe talking to us? No, but we believe that if we pray it's going to change everything. I come from a religious family, and growing up, I was told that if I did bad things, God would punish me. So I didn't do anything wrong because I was scared to get punished also I believed that praying is going to give me things I wanted and sometimes it actually happened and my faith in God grow even more.

And now, if you ask me if God is real?

“It is impossible to live or to die without God, but it is not impossible to think that you are.

“If you think that you are living or dying without God, you will experience that you are.

- HOME WITH GOD (book name)

Now my believe is that God is in everyone so I do have the power to change my life because I also have powers the powers he gave me. Which means I'm also a god.

How can believing change your appearance? You don't have to do anything. Literally, nothing. Don't affirm, don't visualise, don't script, don't use any manifestation technique, do nothing. Just simply believe a fact about yourself. Without any doubts, just believe in your heart, like something you already have. And trust me, if that doesn't change, I'll delete my account. 😂 but affirming and other techniques help you get the results faster. It helps people who has doubts.

  Trust me on this, start applying this to actually change the way you look, and first things first, if you still have doubts, go on with your life without having your desire. I told you before, and I'm going to say it again: believe it is everything you need. So if you don't believe it, get out. 

 

☞Believe that it is possible to change the way you look. The way you look right now is based on your old assumptions; now change them. And ask yourself about your thoughts right now. Is the negative way you talk about yourself helping anyone? Just affirm and trust me. After a period of time, you'll start to believe it, so give yourself time.

 

☞Get a clear vision of your exact desire

Maybe a dream body, or skin, nose, eyes—literally everything. But to get a clear vision of it, maybe download a picture from Pinterest. And after that, put that on your wallpaper. Or anywhere where you would see it every day. 

The more you visualise, the faster it becomes your reality, and the reason why visualising doesn't work for you is because even though you're actively visualising, you keep thinking that you're going to look like that at a certain time. No, babe, you already look like that. Visualise it to the point where you start dreaming about it. I used to have dreams that I'm the prettiest girl, and when you start seeing that kind of dream, you know your brain believes that you're pretty.  And if you dream the opposite of your manifestation, then girl, you're still believing that you're going to look like that( your desire),"GOING TO" which means your brain still believes that you're not the prettiest girl on earth.

Use subliminals. Gurl, when it comes to appearance change, subliminals are ✨👌🏻 . You can use it overnight. Because you don't overthink during sleep, your brain eats everything the subliminal tells you.

 

And if you're worrying about time, then pookie again, your manifestation would take time according to your beliefs and assumptions. So it depends on you, but if you're on the right track, you will see results within 7 days. And when you start seeing a slight change in the happiness you feel at that moment, make it an assumption that you've gotten your full results. 🩶

MENTAL HEALTH. Because when you're happy, you're detached. Detached from stress, you don't care about the end goal. You know you have it.

 

Find qualities about yourself. And feel proud of yourself. Gurl, let me tell you at the end of the day, you only have yourself. If you're happy or sad, no one but you can feel your feelings. If you die today, you only have yourself. So why would you put anyone else in Pedestal but yourself? Being selfish was the best thing I did for myself. When you put yourself first and start thinking about what the other person has to offer you, no one can treat you badly.

I was always beautiful. It took me some time to realise this, but you're already pretty.

Tell me one thing, even if a person doesn't believe in manifestation. What would happen if she believed good things about herself?

She'll become confident and a positive person, and who doesn't like a positive person? You got anything to lose? You have nothing to lose when you're in manifestation. ✨💖

Now that we are all here, I hope you at least understand something. 

Believe that it's possible to literally change anything.

get a clear vision of your desire.

believe

Visualize

Affirm

now stick there don't let it go

Refuse to let go

Don't not let it go

DO NOT LET GO

☝🏻

Hope this was helpful for you. 🩷🩵

[the-boy-meets-evil]

with the band | ksy

pairing: drummer!soonyoung x journalist!f!reader genre: 70s!au, band!au, fluff, smut, tiny bit of angstsummary: you’re fresh out of college with big dreams about changing the world with your words on a page. The last thing you expect is to end up covering a tour and you certainly don’t expect to fight falling for the drummer. rating: explicit, minors dni word count: ~8.2k (i literally don't know, don't @ me, it was supposed to be short) warnings: brief mention of drinking, brief mention of assumed infidelity (not actual), reader mentions difficulties of male dominated profession and being a woman, 1 mention of drinking, explicit smut: kissing, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this), multiple orgasms, oral sex (f. receiving), briefest handjob/blowjob, reader is a little obsessed with hoshi's arms, hoshi picks reader up 1 time, idk i think that's it

a/n: this is for @svthub's 70s;teen collab and i'm so thankful that i got to take part in it. make sure you check out all the other amazing fics here! also a massive thank you to my bby indi @classicscreations for another last minute banner with minimal info from me. ily. (this is unbeta'd because i finished it late sorry!)

When you went to school, you had all these big dreams. It’s easier for women to get an education now, universities that had been single sex are going co-ed, and women are allowed to have ideas. You feel excited about your future. You’re going to change the world. At least, that’s what you think.

Before you know it, graduation is around the corner and it’s time to try to find a job with your journalism degree. While you’ve become a standout contributor at your school paper, this is entirely different. Your big dreams start to feel a little deflated. Sure, you can get a job at a big newspaper, like you’ve always wanted, you just have to be fine with being the assistant to someone else. Getting their coffee and lunch orders, handling their schedule, fetching dry cleaning. And it’s not that you mind paying your dues, you don’t. You know that you’re going to have to work your ass off just to get that chance. But you’re not sure you can take the chance of getting boxed into being someone’s assistant. Close enough to get a hint of the story while never actually writing it yourself.

As you’re about to take one of the positions you’re so opposed to, you happen to get to know someone from the infamous Rolling Stone magazine. It’s not really your style, the whole sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll scene. You don’t feel like you know more than the average person when it comes to music. Music is great, you like it, and you’ve covered the occasional show for your school paper. It’s just not where you feel comfortable. However, as your new contact points out, they’re more than music. They’re culture and politics and just the heartbeat of the country. So, okay, why not take a shot? The worst that happens is they say no and you still have the papers to fall back on.

You don’t need to fall back. They like your writing at Rolling Stone, like your perspective. They like your honesty most of all, that sticks out. Someone tells you that they can tell exactly what you think about something and it’s exactly what they’re looking for. Maybe later, you’ll look back and wonder if this was really the right fit. If you knew what you were getting into. All you can do when you get the offer is say yes. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, you tell yourself, to actually get to say something right away. Who cares what you’re talking about? If there’s one thing you know how to do, it’s form an opinion. 

Several months into the job, you actually like it a lot more than you expected you would. Yeah, there’s a lot of partying, a lot of drinking, a lot of other things you’re not going to mention. But, the world is changing and you want to be there for it. 

As much as you initially expected to join Rolling Stone for the culture and political pieces, you’ve written just as many pieces about music. There’s a human element to it that draws you in, a commentary on the artists and what they’re trying to say. You don’t think twice when your boss assigns you to cover a show in the area. A big group is headlining, something you know will draw everyone out, but your boss wants you to pay attention to the other acts. Find out if there’s a story.

You’re somewhere in an open staff room before the show, taking time to catch up with people you know through work, through other shows, just from being around the area. It’s there that you hear the commotion outside the room. It sounds like a group of girls reacting to someone, probably one of the musicians. Seconds later, the musician in question opens the door, smiling softly over his shoulder and calling out a string of thank yous before heading around the corner.

It’s familiar with the shows you’ve covered. He’s hiding out from the fans that hang around and try to get closer to them. Some of them are familiar with the staff, both for the groups and the venues, though, and they come and go as they please. He seems to realize this and rushes over to your table, sits down in an empty seat and tries to look like he belongs.

“What’s the low down?” he asks without preamble. 

You’re caught off guard for a lot of reasons. The first is that you have no idea who this man, with his short hair and denim shirt actually is. He looks like a musician, probably could be a member of one of the other, smaller groups playing tonight. He seems like he’s probably in his mid-20s. But you don’t know him. The second reason is that you’re not really sure what he’s asking.

“With what?” you finally ask.

“The group of girls hanging around outside,” he supplies. Of course.

“This your first show or something?” you ask.

“Not exactly,” he says. “I mostly did studio work until I replaced the guy before me in Moonwalker. They needed a new drummer.”

“I’m sure you had plenty of girls hanging around the studio,” you say. 

“Including you?” he wonders. “I’m Soonyoung, by the way.”

You give him your name in return. “And no, I write for Rolling Stone.”

That catches his interest in the way it always does with musicians. They all want to be in the magazine, want to know they’ve made it. Just as many want to make sure whatever’s published about them is positive, paints them in a good light. It’s why your boss has always stressed to remember the musicians aren’t your friends. That’s never been an issue for you, so you’ll continue to chat with Soonyoung. Try to see if his band might be the one you pitch to your boss. 

He wants to keep talking, you can tell, but a man that looks like a manager pops his head into the room. Once his eyes land on Soonyoung, he’s calling him away. The rest of the band is going over something pre-show and they need him. Soonyoung looks back at you.

“Catch ya later?” Soonyoung asks it as a question instead of making it a statement.

“Maybe,” you answer, noncommittal. 

The next day at work you fill your boss in about the show and pitch Moonwalker for a feature. They’re young and hungry, saying a lot with their music, and there were almost as many fans there to see them as there were to see the headliner. Culturally and musically, they’re relevant. If you can get the jump on this story, you might even be able to beat out the competition. Which is always a gamble. You don’t have some magic 8 ball telling you if these guys are the real deal. 

After your boss loops in a couple of the big music guys at the magazine, he agrees that you can try to get the story. If the band will let you go to the next several stops, and actually answer your questions, your boss will sign off on it. Well, you have to stay on top of your other assignments too, but you assure him that won’t be an issue. 

Three days later you’re headed to your first stop on the tour. Their manager had initially been skeptical, but called back a few hours after the pitch. Apparently Soonyoung had asked if it would be you doing the story, said you seemed cool, and the rest of the band was eager for the exposure. So you packed your bags and got on the next bus out to meet them on their tour. From there, you would be traveling with the band. That had also come with the warning from your boss and colleagues, a reminder that the guys in the band weren’t your friends and the women who traveled with them were even less so. Not that it was news to you. 

(And not that you’re thinking about the phone call you got after work that night.

“Hello?” You’re balancing the phone against your ear as you sort through some recent mail.

“Hey! This is Soonyoung!” comes a cheery voice on the other end.

“Oh, uh, hi,” you say. “How did you get my number?”

“My manager called the magazine for a couple last minute questions and they gave him this number,” Soonyoung answers.

You’re wondering why your boss, always worrying about keeping those lines firmly in place, gave out your personal number. But that’s an issue for another day. 

“So you’re hitting the road,” Soonyoung carries on. “You must’ve been into our sound.”

“You’re different and the crowd seemed to dig it,” you say.

“Can’t wait to catch you on the trail,” Soonyoung finishes.)

The band is funny to be around, you think. It’s a little like herding children at times, even though they’re a few years older than you. But their attention is constantly somewhere and rarely on the question you’re asking. Which should be frustrating, except that Soonyoung is always looking over at you with an apology in his eyes. Always filling in every answer that he can with this band he’s gotten used to at light speed. 

You do get your answers, though. Answers about everything from how the band got together to where they see themselves going to what they think about where the country is headed. In between the booze and the women and the drugs, you’re able to piece together who this group actually is and what they’re about. The more you learn, the more you want to learn. The more you relate to the things they’re saying. For the first time in your career, you’re actually wondering if you can capture the energy of this band when you put it to paper. Can you capture the way they vibe together? Can you capture the way the singer mesmerizes an entire crowd? Can you capture the way Soonyoung goes from smiling and happy to laser focused on stage? There’s magic in seeing them perform live.

There’s also the small matter of getting too close to them. Or to one of them in particular. From the beginning you knew that Soonyoung would be a problem. He’s too loud and he’s not all that smooth, but there’s a real tenderness to him. There’s a softness to his approach that you weren’t quite expecting. The first time he invites you to hang out with the band after a show, you ignore it. It’s easy. You’re thinking of the advice from your boss and your coworkers. The second and third times are easy too. Well, easy enough. You say no and go back to your room to work on notes for the story.

Except, that’s when it changes. You get on the phone with your boss, tell me how much bigger the story is becoming than you ever anticipated. There’s so much more than just the band, from the backgrounds of the members, to the lyrics of their songs, to where they see themselves heading. Three members, including Soonyoung, are the children of immigrants in this country. Where you expect push back from your boss, instead you’re met with agreement. Stay on the road, you’ve been on top of your assignments. He’ll give you more words for the piece you’re writing. Just carry on, he loves all the notes and ideas he’s seen so far. 

It’s exactly what you’re hoping for and yet there’s still a feeling in the pit of your stomach like things are about to change. Not because this is a big article, though it is. You’ve never been given more than a thousand words and you have three thousand now. It’s more than just a chance. Yet you’re still unsettled about something. 

It’s another day. Another set of pre-show questions, a depth to each band members’ background, an insight in the process of writing songs, even a little bit of a look into why each of them got into music in the first place. The leader of the band and the manager are more reserved, concerned with how the group will come across when you write this article. They’re always asking what you’ll say or if they can see the article before it comes out. 

Your answer is always the same: no. But, you assure them that you’re not in this to ruin their careers. What would be the point? Who would want to answer your questions moving forward? You just want to paint an honest picture of what they’re like and what they’re about. 

Post show is the same song and dance as always. Soonyoung asks for you to come by their routine after-party. You see the way some of the other hangers-on watch for your answer, seem annoyed that he’s asking yet again when you’ve said no every other time. You say no, like every other time, and watch the smiles that form instantly on the faces of those who drag Soonyoung off. His eyes stay on you even after you turn around to head to your room. 

That’s where the similarities stop. You’re reading over your notes at the desk in your dingy hotel room. It’s far too late and the lighting is awful, but you want to make sure you get it all down before you forget. You also want to test out a few sentences or even passages to send back to your boss. The article really has taken shape in your head and you’re excited to actually write it.

A knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts about word choice. You figure it’s probably just some drunk person looking for the band and getting the room wrong. Or looking for friends after the show. It’s not like that would be the first time. So you don’t consider that you’re not really dressed for company.

“Hey,” from a voice that’s entirely too familiar. 

There’s a moment when you’re both just looking at each other. You’re trying to figure out what he’s doing here and why he doesn’t seem drunk. He’s taking in your open bathroom over your nightgown. After another moment, you pull the bathrobe closed, definitely too late by the smirk playing on Soonyoung’s mouth. 

“Uh, what are you doing here?” you ask after clearing your throat.

“I wanted to see what was so important that kept you from hanging with us,” Soonyoung answers. “‘M I interrupting something?” 

“Yes, actually,” you say before you can think better.

“Really?” he challenges.

“I was writing,” you rush out. “I don’t have my typewriter here but I’ve been putting passages together.”

“And that couldn’t wait til morning to hang out with us? See what we’re like outside of the venue?” Soonyoung presses.

“I’ve seen you outside the venues,” you argue. “And it’s not that it’s keeping me from hanging out with you.”

“Then what is?” he asks. 

“We’re not friends, Soonyoung, and you’ve got plenty of people to keep you distracted,” you offer with an eye roll.

“They’re not that distracting…or entertaining,” he says and you actually laugh. 

“They’ll be heartbroken,” you muse.

“Let me come in for a drink,” Soonyoung presses. “It’s rude to leave company in the hall.”

“I don’t have anything to drink,” you say, almost regretful.

“I do,” Soonyoung says, holding up a six pack.

This is dumb, a terrible idea. It’s exactly what your boss warned you about. But you step to the side anyway and let Soonyoung walk around you. With a look down the hallway to confirm nobody saw him, you close the door.  

“What are you doing here, really?” you ask.

Soonyoung settles on the edge of the bed and opens one of the beers. He holds one out to you and you take it. He’s already inside the room, might as well appreciate something free to drink.

“I don’t know, I like being around you. There’s more to you than most of the people that hang around the band,” Soonyoung says.

“That’s because I’m not just hanging around the band. I’m here working,” you reason.

“And that means you can’t have fun?” Soonyoung wonders.

“I am having fun,” you disagree. 

“You know what I mean,” he says, not letting you get away with it. You hesitate, unsure where to go from here. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m interested in you. I want to actually know you in the way you’re getting to know us. I’m laying myself bare and you don’t have to do the same, I just want to know you.”

Which is fair, isn’t it? Of all the band members, Soonyoung has been the most open, the most honest about who he is, what he’s about, and where he wants to go. So you make the decision you probably always were going to make. You sit down on the bed next to him, instead of leaving space by sitting in the chair, and you start to tell him who you are. Nothing feels off limits from your struggles in a male-dominated field to your family life to your past relationships. To his credit, he’s a good listener. His face is so expressive and open that you find yourself saying more than you have to anyone in ages. 

As you continue to talk, your beers sit largely untouched. Soonyoung’s taken a few sips, but mostly his eyes have been focused on you, like he’s looking for the things your face is saying that your words aren’t. Somewhere it progresses from you talking about who you are to the two of you talking about anything that comes up. It’s not a level of comfort you were ever expecting to feel in a place like this. It’s also really difficult to remember what your boss said.

“So we’re not friends, huh?” Soonyoung asks during a lull.

“Oh, well…” you stutter.

He laughs. “Luckily I’m not so easily scared off.”

“It’s just, my boss…well he warned me not to get too close to you,” you admit.

“Me specifically?” Soonyoung asks.

“No, the band as a whole,” you answer without meeting his eyes. 

You start when Soonyoung’s finger lifts your chin up to meet his eyes. It’s hard to meet them when you feel like he sees through you. “I think you seem smart enough to make that call for yourself, don’t you?” 

All you can do is nod. That seems to make him happy. You feel more exposed though, more raw. Even more so when you remember that you’re only in your nightgown and bathrobe. Without even realizing it, you pull the bathrobe closed again.

“Do you want me to go?” Soonyoung’s voice is quiet, not a whisper but deep with something else. The entire mood shifts. 

You shake your head immediately. This time it’s not enough.

“I need to hear you,” he says.

“No, Soonyoung, I don’t want you to go,” you say quietly. 

His fingers are on your chin again, soft enough that you could pull away if you wanted to. Which you don’t. His voice is still low, thick with something you now realize is desire. It’s the same feeling you got when you extended your trip following Moonwalker on the road. And it’s definitely trouble. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice gentle like he has to be careful with you. 

You nod again before considering if he needs to hear you. He doesn’t. Not this time. His lips meet yours gently, so soft like he’s not really sure it’s happening. Like he’s worried this is all a dream. You’re kind of worried about that too, but you’re not sure if it would be better that way. If this should all just be something you’re dreaming up instead of something that’s actually happening. 

It’s not enough, you open your mouth and he takes it as an invitation almost immediately. The kiss deepens, becomes a little more insistent and a little more desperate. He’s testing the waters at the same time. One hand rests on your bare thigh and the other slides up your neck into your hair, anchoring you to his mouth. You gasp a bit at the firmness. It’s a different side to him than you’ve seen. Well, except when he’s on stage. He’s just as focused then as he is now. 

But it’s not quite enough and you’re not really sure what makes you adjust. You’ve never really been someone to be forward, not like this. So you’re not really sure why you readjust to straddle his lap. Not that he’s complaining. His groan is low, from the back of his throat, as you settle on top of him. For a moment, you’re aware that you’re still just in your nightgown. 

Until Soonyoung’s hands run along the bare skin of your thighs and you shiver under his touch. Until his fingers dig into your skin, just hard enough to anchor you but not so hard it’ll leave marks. Until your own fingers find their purchase in Soonyoung’s hair, shorter than you’re used to on men, yet perfect for him. You’re not used to straddling someone like this either, so you try not to move too much. Except when you need to adjust because your knees aren’t comfortable as they’re digging into the mattress. That single movement drags your core across his lap and pulls a deep groan from him. You can feel him hardening when he jerks his hips up into you.

Soonyoung moves one hand up your back, underneath the nightgown so his fingers are on your skin. His other hand holds the back of your head so you can’t stop kissing him. Then he’s leaning back onto the bed, bringing you with him so that now you’re on top of him. You feel a little out of your element like this, not entirely used to being the one in control. Even if the control is an illusion and it really rests with Soonyoung. It’s like he can sense that and wraps his strong arms around you to flip the two of you over. He breaks the kiss only for a moment as he’s hovering over to look down at you. You’re sure you blush under his attention, there’s so much affection. Then you’re kissing again. 

You know where this is heading, know and don’t want to stop it. His hips rut against your core more as the kisses continue to intensify and you want more. Need more than the friction with too much clothing between you. You’re about to pull his shirt off, have your fingers on the hem, when there’s a loud banging on the door. It startles you both from your little bubble. After a second, the banging starts again.

You reluctantly slide out from underneath Soonyoung to go look out the peephole. Something you did not do when he showed up. It’s one of his bandmates. You crack the door open and try to act like you’d been sleeping.

“Hey sorry, we’re looking for Soon, have you seen him?” he asks.

You pretend to yawn and shake your head. “Sorry, been sleeping.”

“Huh, well sorry,” he says and is gone before you can say anything else.

Soonyoung is behind you before the door even closes, wrapping his arms around you and holding you back against his chest. He presses a soft kiss behind your ear, gentle like his first kiss. 

“I should probably go before they come back,” he whispers against your skin.

“About what I said,” you begin, turning around in his arms to face him.

“S’okay, I get it,” he assures you. He places the gentlest kiss on your lips. “I know what you’re dealing with.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

“And maybe we’ll get to continue this,” Soonyoung offers. He sounds like he’s trying to be nonchalant, but his face gives away how badly he wants you to agree.

“God, yes, please,” you respond. You don’t care how you sound when his face lights up. That’s all you need.

The next day has you packing up and heading to the next city. Road days are actually some of your favorite because it’s just you with the people on the bus. It’s a much smaller group than at the venues or at the hotel afterwards. It also gives you a better glimpse into who Moonwalker are outside of the performances. You see how they interact, how they approach conversations, what they do to fill their time.

Of course, now, Soonyoung wants to be around you whenever he can. A fact entirely too obvious to some of the people on the bus. He accepts that you want to keep some amount of distance, doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. The two of you just kind of gravitate together anyway. Whether it’s sitting near each other on the bus or stopping at the same places for food when you stop. Most people seem to write it off as how he’s been with you the entire time. Most don’t realize that you’re seeking him out almost as much now. 

You get enough time without prying ears to let him know that you don’t want to distract him the night before a show. You also know how their manager can be, so you think it’s best for him to be in the bed that he’s supposed to be in. He pouts for a second but understands. You’re trying to keep at least the appearance of separation. 

The day of the next show finds you in the lobby waiting for some coffee and something to eat when a woman breezes in through the open doors. You hate to generalize, but she looks like a lot of the other women that hang around bands, except a little more confident. A little more sure of herself or her position. Maybe she’s someone’s girlfriend. You’re sure that whatever Moonwalker gets up to on the road, at least some of them are in relationships. Not Soonyoung, you’re sure he would’ve mentioned it. 

For some reason, the woman approaches you after speaking to someone at the desk. She’s glamorous up close, for lack of a better way to put it, but maybe not as confident as you’d initially thought.

“Is this where Moonwalker is staying?” she asks without preamble. 

“Uh, yeah,” you answer.

“Oh good, I’ve been looking for Soonyoung and I keep missing his stops,” she says with a smile.

Your stomach drops and you do everything you can not to let your face show how bothered you are. She’s looking for who?

“Soonyoung?” you ask. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to pick up on your distress.

“It’s an unusual name, I know, but he’s the drummer for Moonwalker,” she carries on.

“Uh, I haven’t seen him today,” you offer.

“I wasn’t expecting you had, you’re clearly not a groupie,” she says with a slightly sympathetic smile. You’re not really sure what to do with that. “But he’s staying here?”

“Yeah, they’re staying here,” you confirm. “Who are you?”

“Oh well I’m his…well it’s complicated, but we’re seeing each other,” she says.

“Right,” is all you can muster.

“Who are you?” she asks.

You give your name. “I write for Rolling Stone.”

“You’re a journalist?” She asks the question with all the surprise and disdain of someone that thinks only men can write.

“I am,” you confirm and stand up. “It’s been great speaking, I’m sure Soonyoung will be around soon. They haven’t left for the venue yet.”

You’re off before she can say anything else without coffee or the snack you’d been looking for. Before the tour, you never drank coffee in the afternoons because of the caffeine. Now, you’re staying up much later. 

Once you’re back in your room, you let yourself cry. For so many reasons. For breaking the rule and getting so close to Soonyoung. For allowing yourself to feel something for him. For being stupid enough to think he felt something for you too. For how hard it’s going to be to carry on with this story now that you know who he really is. For having to separate personal from professional. For all the things that could have been. 

You keep your distance from Soonyoung through the rest of the day and the show. He’s visibly confused when you make excuse after excuse to walk away or talk to someone else. But why should he be? Surely the woman ended up finding him after speaking to you and surely she’s waiting somewhere for him. Why should he keep bothering with you? 

It’s not until you’re back in your room post-show that you start to plan your next steps. You’re scheduled to join the band for at least 3 more shows. It’s what you and your boss agreed to. And it was fine, before everything happened with Soonyoung. Could you find a way to convince your boss that you do actually have enough for the article and it’s time to come home? Maybe. You’ll have to start thinking of good reasons.

It’s during this inner monologue that you hear a quiet knock at the door. You know who it’s going to be before you even open the door. Soonyoung stands on the other side looking much more subdued than normal. He looks sad, maybe even hurt.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

His voice sounds just as sad as he looks, which causes anger to flare in you for a moment. What reason does he have to be hurt? But you step aside anyway because this isn’t a conversation to have in the doorway where anyone could overhear.

“What is it?” you ask once you’re both inside. He sits on the edge of your bed and you take the chair at the desk.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in response.

“What do you mean what’s wrong?” you ask louder than you intended.

“Everything was good and we were on the same page, what changed?” Soonyoung asks.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe you having a girlfriend? I met her in the lobby this afternoon, she was looking for you,” you fire back. 

Soonyoung goes quiet. Not like he’s been caught, like he’s confused. Like he doesn’t know what you mean. Then his face changes into one of annoyance. “Do you mean Mary?”

“I’m not sure, Soonyoung, how many girlfriends do you have?” you ask, irritated.

“None,” he insists and then describes the woman from earlier.

“Sounds right, she didn’t mention her name,” you agree. 

Soonyoung huffs out an overly annoyed sigh. “That’s not my girlfriend and again, I do not have a girlfriend…”

“Girlfriend, friend, groupie, whatever,” you dismiss. “I’m not interested in the drama.”

“Neither am I,” Soonyoung insists. You want to believe him. His face is so kind, so honest. But this is why you don’t get involved with the band.

“I want to believe you,” you start.

“Then believe me,” Soonyoung pleads. “Mary used to hang around at the studio I worked at before coming on this tour. I was nice to her, we chatted a couple times, but I never even got her number. I never even went out with her or kissed her or anything. I have no idea why she showed up here.”

“You promise?” you ask. 

Soonyoung is off the bed and coming to kneel before you in a single move. He takes your hands in his, so still and serious. Like nothing else matters. 

“I promise you, there is nothing going on there. The only person I’m interested in getting to know is you,” he says. 

“Soonyoung,” you caution.

“I know, your career, the article, all of it, I get it,” Soonyoung assures you. “I’m willing to take whatever you can give me.”

It’s dumb. You know it’s dumb. And you don’t care because this man in front of you is doing more than you ever expected. So you lean forward to kiss him and feel him smile against your lips. The next second, he hoists you up (you’re thankful for that drummer arm strength) and carries you to the bed. He’s so gentle when he puts you down, so careful to make sure you don’t hit your head on the headboard. 

And then his lips are on yours again, kissing you so fiercely that you lose your breath. His hands wander your body like he’s trying to map every piece of you. Every curve, every spot, every place that makes you shudder. His lips on you are a constant, keeping you grounded in this moment, allowing it to feel like more than a dream. His hands wander up the skirt you wore to the show earlier. You had put off changing for bed beyond removing your stockings and shoes. Now you’re almost thankful for that decision with how your skin erupts into goosebumps under Soonyoung’s touch. 

This time when you reach to remove his shirt, there’s no loud knock to disrupt you. There’s nothing at all to distract you from the beautiful man hovering over you on the bed. It seems ridiculous, now, that you ever thought you could ignore him. Once you get his clothes off, he removes your own, so you’re laying bare on your bed. Everything inside you wants you to cover yourself, unused to anyone taking you in with the attention Soonyoung gives you. But when you go to move your hands to cover yourself, he catches them, places the softest kisses on your knuckles, and lightly puts them over your head. His eyes take your body in like he’s never seen anything better.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he whispers against your skin. “You’re perfect.”

“Look who’s talking,” you manage to reply. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, pulls away so he can look you in your eyes. “It’s okay if you say no.”

“Little late for that,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s not,” he reiterates. 

“I know, Soon,” you say through a smile. “I do want this.” 

It’s all the reassurance that he needs when his lips meet yours again, insistent. One of his hands runs down your body and along your thigh before he separates your legs. It makes you shiver in anticipation. Every part of you longs for him. You know he must realize. He runs one of his fingers between your folds and moans into the kiss with how wet you are. How badly you want him. How ready you are for him. After he does this several more times, you pull away.

“Please,” you beg him. 

You’re expecting him to tease you or to ask you what it is you’re begging for. Instead, he slides one finger inside you and captures your gasp. The kiss doesn’t last nearly long enough before he’s pulling away again, this time to watch your body react to his finger pumping slowly in and out of you. He’s encouraging your moans, muttering praises into your skin, making you feel like nothing else matters. He slides a second finger into you and your back arches at the feeling. He hooks his middle finger inside you and you know you’re going to be done for entirely too soon. 

As his pace quickens, he trails kisses along your neck, your chest, your stomach. You can’t even be self conscious because he doesn’t give you the chance. Just makes you feel better than you’ve ever felt with just his fingers. Your hands tangle in the sheets as you writhe under his attention.

“Soonyoung, please, I’m gonna come,” you whine out. He doesn’t slow, just adds a third finger.

“Then come, baby, I want to watch you come all over my fingers,” he urges.

And that’s, well that’s got you even closer. Never have you had a guy put your own needs above his own like that. He keeps his rhythm steady and it’s all too much, you’re feeling him everywhere and your body is on fire.

“Let go,” he whispers low into your ear.

So you do, you let go and drench his fingers, the release so strong that it takes you a minute to come back down or to realize you feel empty without his fingers. He’s laying on his side next to you and running a hand through your hair to brush it out of your face.

“Oh my god, Soonyoung,” you rasp out.

“Yeah?” he asks and you nod. 

He adjusts his position and you feel his hard length against your hip. You reach a hand down to lightly grip his cock. It’s longer than you were expecting but not too thick. Not entirely intimidating to think about inside of you. 

“You don’t have to…” he starts.

“I want to,” you disagree.

You run your finger over the head, collecting a little of the precum and then run your hand back down. It’s not enough though, so you push yourself up. He follows you with his eyes and readjusts so he’s leaning back against the headboard. You get between his legs and lick a stripe up the underside of his length, watch as he shudders over the briefest touch. You can tell he’s trying to sit back and enjoy it, but he’s sensitive. He must have enjoyed you coming on his fingers more than you realized. 

He lets you tease him, running your tongue along him entirely too slowly, your hand pumping without enough friction. But his desires win out before long.

“I need to be inside of you,” Soonyoung whines. “Please?”

You swallow hard and nod. “Yes, oh my god.”

Before you even realize what’s happening, he gathers you up in his arms and lays you down underneath him. He spreads your leg and kisses all the way up from your thigh to your lips, leaving you desperate for more of him when he pulls away. It’s only so he can line himself up at your entrance, though. He eases into you slow enough that you can adjust to the feel of him. And then he’s rolling his hips into you.

You’re not sure if it’s the build up between the two of you, the realization of your feelings when you met the woman claiming to be his girlfriend, or what, but everything just feels…better. The stretch is that perfect kind of pleasure and the way he rolls his hips into you is just the right pace. He whispers constant reassurances into your skin and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this safe or whole with someone before. 

He takes his time with you, doesn’t thrust into you too hard or too fast, just wants to savor the moment. You can’t recall your last relationship taking this much care. It’s overwhelming in the best way, in the way that you don’t want it to end.

“I’m so close,” he hisses out too soon. 

“I’m almost there,” you whine out, heading towards your second orgasm of the night.

Soonyoung reaches between you and starts to rub your clit, making you cry out from the sensitivity. In no time, you’re screaming out as you come seconds apart from each other. 

“Wow,” Soonyoung says when he’s caught his breath and laying next to you on the bed. 

“Yeah,” you agree. 

He rolls over onto his side and faces you, looking both incredibly relaxed and impossibly happy. “Are we okay?”

“Oh my god, this is when you ask?” you laugh out.

“Well, I don’t wanna make the wrong assumption!” he defends.

“Yes, we’re good,” you start, “and before you say it, I will talk to you before making assumptions next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time? Do you like me?” Soonyoung asks, all gentle teasing in his voice.

“I am going to kick you out of this room,” you threaten.

You don’t follow through. Not when he wets a towel to come help you clean up or when he offers to get you clothes to wear to bed. Not when he fills up a glass with water for you to drink so you’re not dehydrated. Not when he offers to leave so that people don’t get the wrong idea. Not when you’re pulling him into a kiss and back into bed. Not when you’re talking until you fall asleep tangled up in each other.

The next couple days pass in kind of a blur with traveling and getting settled into the next tour stop. Needless to say, you don’t reach out to your boss about ending your trip early. You do have a conversation with Soonyoung, though, about how it is almost your last stop. He gets it, but he’s not ready to think about it, instead wrapping himself around you and pressing kisses to any part of your body that he can reach. He’s incredibly distracting and you find you don’t really mind. You also don’t mind if he lets his bandmates think there’s something going on with you. None of them seem surprised, which makes you wonder what he said before he won you over. 

After the next show, he doesn’t even pretend to go to the afterparty before coming to see you. He departs from his band and the hangers-on at the entrance to the hotel and comes straight to your room. Just as the two of you planned. And not that you’re expecting anything, but you’re waiting in your nightgown just in case, unable to stop thinking about Soonyoung moaning over being interrupted the first time. 

“Hey…wow,” Soonyoung says when you open the door and he takes you in.

“You were whining about being interrupted the first time,” you offer with a shrug. 

“I was not whining,” he protests, but kisses you anyway when he steps inside. 

“You were and it was cute,” you disagree. Calling Soonyoung cute is a mistake, you realize that the second you see his face.

“You think I’m cute,” he preens.

“I take it back,” you say immediately.

“Nope,” he says and pulls you into him. “Can’t take it back.”

He kisses you hard and deep before you can continue the argument. Not that you’re complaining about it. He moves backwards to sit down on the bed and pulls you onto his lap. Same position, different bed. You’ll still take it. 

“Soon, can I ask you something?” you ask.

“Anything,” he offers.

“Tonight, can you…don’t be gentle with me,” you manage.

“You didn’t like that?” Of course that’s his first worry.

“No, no, it was amazing, completely perfect,” you assure him and he relaxes beneath you. “It’s just…I want…”

“Something else,” he finishes.

You nod and look down, absently playing with the hem of his shirt. “I just, I feel safe with you and I want to try things.” 

Soonyoung lifts your chin with a finger so you can see how much care there is behind his eyes. He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and then to your lips. 

“I won’t be so gentle with you, then,” he agrees. “But you have to tell me if it’s too much okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree.

And he’s not gentle. He takes his time building up to it, kissing you hard and pulling your lip between his teeth. Pulling off your clothes so you’re naked on his lap. Leaving marks where nobody else will see them. Grinding against your core even though he’s still dressed. Pulling endless moans out of you. Until he flips you onto your bag and pushes your legs open. He’s got his fingers inside you again and it’s nothing like the first time. Nothing like the gentle rhythm. He’s scissoring his fingers and pumping them quickly. He’s using this thumb to rub your clit. The stream of words coming out of your mouth is incomprehensible and you’re sure the people in the rooms on either side can hear you. You’re equally sure you don’t care.

It feels like record time when he’s coaxing your first orgasm out of you. Your whole body is sensitive and the waves continue to ripple through you. It doesn’t even feel like you’ve recovered from the first orgasm when you feel Soonyoung’s tongue run between your folds. He’s spreading your lips with his fingers and lapping into you.

“Soonyoung, fuck, oh my god,” you scream out.

He pops his head up from between your legs just long enough for a single question. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, fuck, please don’t,” you whine out and he’s between your legs again. 

You can’t even see straight but you’re sure that the sight of this man between your legs, tongue working you like he’s starving, is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. His thumb rubs over your clit again and you arch into him. You move your hand into his hair to anchor him or yourself, you’re not sure. You’re oversensitive and overstimulated, but it’s the best kind of mix of pain and pleasure. There are tears forming in the corners of your eyes and you urge him on, beg him to keep going. 

The second orgasm rips through you even harder than the first and you’re screaming out your praise for him as he guides you through it. Once you come down, you feel him come up next to you and roll towards him. His lips are on yours in the next second and you can taste yourself on his tongue. You think you could kiss him for hours without getting bored or wanting to stop. Yet he pulls away from you entirely too soon. 

There’s confusion on your face as he gets out of the bed (and maybe a little bit of embarrassment that you’ve come twice and he’s still dressed). His eyes are on you as he strips himself out of his clothing before leaning over the bed. If you’re waiting for another kiss, you’re left waiting. He grabs behind your legs and pulls you to the edge. His eyes are full of fire, yet still checking to see if you’re okay. You ease any worries with a quick nod of your head. With that he pulls you up against him and kisses you quickly.

You’re so dazed that you don’t even realize he’s changing your position until you’re leaning over the edge of the bed with your ass in the air. He uses his foot to spread your legs apart so that he can line himself up. Even though you want to watch him, he presses between your shoulder blades so you’re leaning forward as much as possible. And maybe he’s got a point because the feeling of him pressing into you is so much better when you’re not watching him do it. 

This time, he doesn’t wait for you to adjust to him, just immediately snaps his hips into you, burying his cock fully inside on the first thrust. Even though he’s being rougher, his praise is still constant. Still talking you through every moment. When he lifts one of your legs up so your knee is on the edge of the bed, you think you see stars at the new position. He’s hitting you so deep and filling you so completely that you’re not sure how you ever survived without him. Dramatic, you chastise yourself, but you’re a little beyond sex stupid right now. 

His fingers dig into your hips where he holds you in place, keeping up the pace that has your eyes watering yet again. You’re so sensitive and you’re sure you’re not going to come again. Until you feel the orgasm building and the pressure in your tummy. Until his own words become unintelligible, just a string of curses and praise. Until you hear yourself tell him that you’re gonna come again and feel his own release just after yours. 

Your legs feel like jelly as he guides you back into the bed and disappears for a towel. You can hear the water running just before he reappears to clean you up. It’s such a stark contrast from minutes earlier when he’s gentle with you again. It’s way too early to feel anything for him, you remind yourself again, but you also can’t pretend not to feel anything. 

Once he cleans himself up, he gets into the bed and tucks the two of you under the covers without bothering to get dressed. His arms circle you and you feel safe, like this. Wanted and special and right. The kiss he presses to your forehead almost makes you sigh.

“How are you?” he asks softly into your hair.

“Amazing? Perfect? I don’t even know,” you answer.

“But you’re okay,” he presses.

“No, I’m a lot better than okay,” you assure him. He must see your smile. 

“Me too,” he agrees.

You’re not sure what happens next or how you’re going to be able to make this work. Or if it’s even going to work. You’re not sure any of that matters because you have this night and you have Soonyoung, at least for now. Nothing else matters.

thank you for reading, i hope you liked it 💕

[lostyesterday]

As a visually disabled person myself, one thing I wish TNG had done with Geordi is show his disability actually affecting how he functions in his daily life. For example, I can’t remember a single time in TNG where Geordi is shown as needing accommodations in his work environment. You might say that’s because his visor means that he can basically “see” normally and so he wouldn’t need accommodations, but I find this explanation frustrating.

For one thing, real life visually disabled people absolutely require accommodations to do most jobs, so if Geordi’s meant to be any kind of accurate reflection of the experiences of blind people, he should require some accommodations. For me at least, it isn’t some kind of wish fulfillment fantasy to see a visually disabled character who can do anything a sighted person can with no accommodations whatsoever. Instead, it feels like a denial of everything that being disabled has meant to me over my life. Disabled people are disabled. We have more difficulty doing certain tasks than an able-bodied person would – that’s what makes us disabled. We require changes to our environment in order to function well.

Also, literally just based on the in-universe information given about Geordi’s visor, it doesn’t make any sense to me that he wouldn’t require accommodations. Geordi’s visor is not really described as simulating vision, it is described as providing completely different sensory information about the physical properties of the world around him. I like to imagine the visor’s input as a kind of enhanced spatial awareness with a precise knowledge of where certain objects are, what their shape is, and what they’re made of. As TNG mentions several times, Geordi’s visor provides much more information than human eyes do, but, importantly, in the few episodes where the details of how Geordi’s visor works are discussed at all, it’s never described as providing purely visual information such as the color or reflectiveness of an object. I think that if Geordi faces a mirror, his visor will tell him there’s a piece of glass in front of him and he’ll know about how large it is and what material it’s made of, but he won’t be able to see his reflection in it, because the visor doesn’t provide that kind of visual information. This distinction is important to me, because it means that Geordi is still functionally blind with the visor, and it should mean that he interacts with the world differently from a sighted person.

For example, I would have loved if Geordi had been shown to be unable to recognize particular people until they spoke. All his visor tells him is that there’s a person in front of him and about what size and shape they are, but this isn’t generally enough information to determine a person’s identity. He canonically perceives Data as looking very different from an organic person which makes sense because Data is made of fully different material. And maybe Geordi can generally tell different species apart based on different body temperatures or something like that. But I really wish that Geordi had been shown at least a few times to need the sound of a person’s voice or some other cue to tell him who they were.

I also think it doesn’t make sense that Geordi can apparently read text on computer screens. How can he read if the visor doesn’t really provide visual information? A computer screen should just register as a flat piece of material. Geordi should have required some kind of accommodation to be able to use the computer screens. For example, maybe Geordi could use the computer entirely through voice commands, something that obviously already exists in the star trek world. Or he could use some kind of tactile display. The Voyager episode The Year of Hell shows that computer terminals on starships are able to utilize a tactile display that I’m guessing is somewhat similar to braille. I loved this mention in Voyager of tactile displays, because it indicates that Starfleet ships are probably automatically equipped with such accessibility devices. Geordi needing an accommodation as small as this would have gone really far in terms of making him feel like a genuine representation of a disabled character, at least to me.

[bardraelyn]

Were the Fallen cast out because they were illiterate?

Ok, big angry thinky meta below. Something just clicked in my head this afternoon, and I had to have a bit of a rant about it.

It was the word "ineffable" that triggered it.

I was thinking about how most demons can’t spell—canonically. It’s not just Shax. The guidebook on angels that Furfur carried has a ton of errors, both in the actual text and in the handwritten annotations. And if they can't spell, it seems likely they also can’t read well, either. Furfur sure struggled with it, and he’s usually on tasks that require a ton of paperwork.

Angels, on the other hand, don't seem to have that problem—the ones that are still in Heaven, that is. (Also, neither does Crowley, but we'll come back to that.)

So, what, did God make a bunch of angels with reading, writing, and/or language difficulties, who presumably had trouble with written directions, and then cast them out of Heaven because they couldn’t understand Her plan?

“Nope, too many questions. Out you go!”

God's great big plan is supposed to be ineffable, right? As in, “too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words”?

Well, who the fuck told everyone it was? The Metatron? The so-called “Voice of God” who is, as we’ve all seen, rather a bit of an asshole?

And are we to take that literally, as in unable to be expressed in any words at all (written or spoken), or is the implication that it simply can't be codified into written language?

If it was the Metatron who called it God's plan ineffable, did he say that because he didn’t want to bother explaining parts of it to a bunch of struggling angels?

"Oh, you can't read it because it's ineffable! It can't really be put into words, so that's the closest approximation of what you're meant to know. Just do your best, and stop asking so many questions!"

Or did he decide it was ineffable because he couldn’t understand it?

He was so condescending toward Muriel about reading a book. Is he masking a disability (and barely hiding some jealous rage) with that holier/smarter-than-thou facade? Is that why he called them "dim"?

He's clearly a bully, which strongly suggests he's insecure, so what are the odds that he's been hiding the written directives from God and started giving "Her" orders verbally instead (declaring himself the "Voice of God" in the process) in order to hide his literacy issues from the other Archangels?

Has he been making up the rules all along? Are the Heavenly Host and their Opposition fucking up God’s actual plan for the universe without even knowing it because the Metatron can’t fucking read?

Did God cast out the Fallen angels, or did the Metatron cast them out to feel better about himself?

Are the legions of Hell mostly made up of illiterate angels, mixed with a few other angels who hung out with them and perhaps even tried to help those who were struggling (just like the big ol’ softy that Crowley happens to be would have done, once he realized the unfairness of their position)?

And what about that Rebellion?

Did Lucifer take advantage of the struggling angels, or was he acting on their behalf, like a parent who takes on the school board when the principal and teachers won't abide by the special needs students' individual education plans*?

If it's the latter, where is/was God in this system?

__________

* Probably took advantage, let's be real. Hell is not a nice place. But maybe he's just a very overwhelmed, frustrated, and rather crappy parental figure who had a breakdown and left the kids to run amok, and they all went Lord of the Flies on him. Who knows? We really have only Crowley's word and the fight with Adam to base our deductions on.

[from-izzy]

every day is a lovely day... | tbz lee juyeon

pairing » the boyz lee juyeon x gn!reader (lmk if i missed anything)

trope/au » strangers to lovers, non-idol au!, university au!

genre »​ mostly hurt/comfort(...?), mostly fluff, a pinch of angst (i always say this but i'm kinda confident in this statement this time lmao), deep reflection on life and aspects of the earth, juyeon who basically falls in love with you at first sight, juyeon being kinda confident towards reader, picnic date by the beach after finishing you last exam!, comforting boyfriend chef (not actually his occupation) lee juyeon!

word count, estimated reading time » 2249, ~8 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » reader didn't sleep well, reader uses caffeine to battle tiredness, the slightest of academic difficulties (it's just a dash imo), deep thoughts of sea and sky life (not an expert in this field at all), mentions of open water/vast landscapes in the thoughts

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

i swear that banner changes colour before my very eyes. because i do understand that it's bright and at first glance, you can barely see the water on the bottom right. but when i change tumblr to a lighter mode, stare at fading wind lines near the top of the image for some time, my eyes adjust and the water becomes very obvious. i think it depends on colour context because on dark mode, it's hard for the 'effects' to kick in. is it just me...? it's messing with me...there has got to be a study about this somewhere...😭 anyway!

(i accidentally released this earlier so for those who saw anything: no you didn't!! 😭)

happy birthday to you @littleroaes !! ngl i was gonna give up on this birthday present but then i was scrolling through and found this little wip and tried to modify it to what you like. i was gonna do f2l like you mentioned you like but my brain stopped making ideas for that as soon as i told myself to write about it 😭 so here's my very first short story on strangers to lovers that thankfully you have appreciation for 🫶 from your profile, i read you like fishes, the colour blue, kimbap, spring rolls and of course, lee juyeon!! 😸 so i tried my best to incorporate these prompts here. i tried something different for the fishes 🐟 topic but i hope this incorporation is fine 💙

here is your boyfriend that will get you through uni! hope you have the happiest birthday!! 🎂🎉 love you!! mwah!!

Everything changed for you when Juyeon walked into your life.

No, literally.

Well, maybe not…literally.

You remember the prominent eyebags you’ve carried for the last month since university started. The new semester has weighed you heavier than the headache that is arising from the lack of sleep and the missed attempt to get your daily caffeine content since you slept through your alarm. At the very least, you’re thankful that everything is now electronic because you are so unprepared to be commuting to campus with a heavy mind, heart, eyelids and straps on your shoulders that would surely give you a very sore back.

That day started horrendously. You really thought that the alarm was the only thing that the universe threw at you for their entertainment but it was the embarrassing fact that you dozed off during class. Your elbows were propped up too comfortably against the desk and the perfect temperature of the lecture room didn't make it any easier for your natural melatonin to kick in. The next thing you knew, your palms cupped your cheek and there was this loud bang that was accompanied by the sharp pain on your cheekbone when you hit the wooden desk.

Everything is going awesome and you just attracted around a hundred students back to you. Thankfully your lecturer didn't take it to offense and shot you an emphatic smile.

You guessed then after that the universe felt bad for the negative attention that you got and they canceled the next class on your filled weekly schedule. Usually, you would be annoyed at the sudden change but this gave you a little hour to bask in the sun, the open green space and your favourite cup of beverage wrapped protectively by your hands.

Only to find out that you left your wallet at home.

“I’m sorry,” you said to the worker who tried her best to reassure you and to take your time as your frantic fingers ran through the items in your bag.

Your knees fell to the ground and sweat started to creep against your forehead and to the side of your head, a silent reminder to be mindful of the long line of students who are mostly probably just as stressed as you are in their university journey. The lighting above you helped with your sight in your receipt-filled bag but suddenly, the long papers with their minuscule printings became hard to read and a deep voice stated his order.

At first, your instinct was to defend yourself, tell the person who cut in line and added an order between you and your caffeine to wait a little bit longer but his choice of words registered into you before you could voice out anytime.

“I'll add an iced Americano with the order, please.” And then the familiar beeping sound of a successful transaction rings.

Your neck cranes up towards the stranger that only made your day easier and you couldn't help but let out a gentle gasp. A sharp pair of eyes yet soft and curious like a cat, his perfectly shaped nose and the slight upturn of the corner of his lips with the smile that beams down on you. 

The chain necklace around his neck dangles above you and you were sure it hypnotised you to say, “It's an angel.” These were your first words to Lee Juyeon.

“Ah,” the recipient of the compliment could only blush first at your words, a hand sneaking up to mindlessly scratch his nape. “We should at least get out of the line.” 

Now it's your turn to have your cheeks heat up at the realisation that you're blocking everyone else’s caffeine intake.

You thought that maybe Juyeon would just walk away and wait for you to join him on the other side of the table with the hanging ‘Pick up orders here' sign hanging from the beige ceiling. Yet, he crouched and helped you sort out your materials, collecting your pencil case and books into one arm, the other swiftly scooping up the straps of your bag along his other forearm.

Your eyes couldn't help but widen at your empty hands, and you were flustered at how he was still holding onto your things even when the customer who stood behind him joined you both after paying. Juyeon’s bangs shook when he refused to give your things back, insisting that you should be the one to carry the coffee instead. 

“Coffee is important.” He convinces you with that warm smile of his. “Don't drop it!”

With the promise to pay him back for another cup, came a few promises to help with common subjects and overlapping knowledge. And with time, came the fluttering feeling in both your hearts that only grew when you comforted each other in the long nights leading to assignments and exam periods that came all too quickly but passed by excruciatingly slow.

Juyeon made it all worth it though. You walked out of the last two-hour prison of the semester to be greeted with your usual reward packed in a paper bag. If it was anyone else but Juyeon, the contents of the bag would be mushed as you hug it close to you but it's the person that you have missed so much that gets your love first.

“You called me last night, bubs,” Hearing his voice not through the help of technology is more refreshing and you couldn't help but tighten your hold around his figure. 

“Every day is missing Juyeon day.” 

“Well for me, every day is a happy day when you're in my life.”

It's a line that he has said to you many times even before he started dating you. Juyeon tried to make the line more interesting each time but one day, mixed with his tiredness and excitedness of finally seeing you, it became the line that revealed his adoration for you.

Hand in hand, Juyeon's thumb caressing the back of your palm, your right arm closely stuck to his left, you both sway and skip to the nearby beach to relish in each other’s company with nature. The light salty breeze scent hits you before you can even see the gigantic natural blue space that seems endless and seamless with the blue sky. As your outfit becomes one with the direction of the wind and the sun is still bright enough for you to know even when your orbs are hidden beneath your eyelids. It’s the little moments like these that the Earth seems to be so rich in beauty and life becomes beautiful although you’ve been studying endlessly for the past three months. 

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the body of water that eventually begins to seep into your view as you walk up the small hill. You imagine the school of fish including the friendly dolphins to the misunderstood sharks and all the shapes and sizes of the life forms in there, some dependent on their family whilst some choosing to live alone. 

That’s why you’ve always been so enamoured by the living, along with the sea plants that they harmoniously live with. 

You wonder what kind of thoughts these creatures have as they live in a world much bigger than the land you stand on and if they ever want to explore the whole ocean like most people would love to see the landmarks scattered across the world. If they visit the landmarks of the ocean, would they even remember it? Or would they just swim away, finding it more than satisfactory with the fact that they’re free, especially those who swish through the water with company?

Same with life in the sky, do they ever get tired from flying? Like some people who are scared of a large body of water but are already mid-journey, how do they persevere in their flight and keep going? Do they sometimes look at human transportation and hope that they could bask in that luxury as well? Sleep in the moving vehicle and relax your tense muscles against the cushioned interiors even if it’s just for ten minutes. You want to know the answer to that and maybe, you’ll be able to learn something from the other life form.

You wish sometimes you would be one of them but it’s hard to say so as well because all forms of life experience different hardships and it’s impossible to generalise anything, nor is it truly fair to say one has it better than the other.

That’s when life becomes so complex and beautiful. The fact that you’re so small in the context of the horizon that stretched too far for you to see and comprehend, leaves you appreciating the small things in life.

For you, the arms encircling your middle remind you that no matter what hardships you face, you’ll be able to safely fall back onto someone. That you can freely cry without judgement and that life is lovely whenever he’s in it. Juyeon steals a kiss from your lips before placing another one on your cheek. Your eyelashes flutter open and you swear that Juyeon’s smile is brighter than the sun that smiles down on you both and louder than the crashing waves against the eroding rocks.

And whenever he asks you, “Feeling better?” You know that Lee Juyeon is the one person that you can answer the question truthfully and genuinely.

You both settled with a picnic blanket underneath a substantial amount of coverage from the sun by the park near the beach, the crashing ocean waves still in sight. You observe the tree above you dancing freely in the winds while the birds seem to sing for both of your accomplishments. 

When you look back down by the cue of a single, proud hand clap, you're greeted with numerous small glass containers clinking next to each other. The colours from the neatly presented food only lifted your energy further and your boyfriend’s orbs glimmered more with the help of the sun that still peaks through from the leaves above.

Juyeon complied when you asked him for a bite of his homemade kimbap and spring rolls. The flavours instantly make you nod. “I refuse to believe that your mum didn't make this.” 

Your boyfriend’s smile flattened, dipping further into a frown, “She helped but I did all the cooking and rolling!” 

“Okay, you cute clingy baby.” Leaning in to press a quick kiss against his pouting lips. “I’m just joking around with you.” 

To Juyeon, the peck is way more than just unsatisfactory and his thoughts about it are clearly reflected first from his eyes. Then, his hand landed next to the food box on his far left and made a sweeping motion on the cotton blanket to the right, pushing all of the obstacles between you and him. His knees slide his body closer to you that was once on the other side, and now with your boyfriend only looking at you with the softest, loving gaze between his overgrown bangs, you couldn’t help but purse your lips momentarily. You couldn’t let out a question or comment but that changed in the blink of an eye when leaned in Juyeon, replacing your growing confusion with a muffled chuckle instead.

A soft groan vibrates to your lips, Juyeon complaining about how there was nothing to laugh about—not when his soft lips are between yours. A palm made its way around the back of your neck, pulling your still extensive smile against his more serious ones. Eventually, with the way that Juyeon poured his love into you, you’re determined to do the same to the only person who would only let you claim his lips. A part of his blue and white sweater is now captured in your fist but it did nothing to your heartbeat which starts to pick up whenever Juyeon pulls away to adjust his lip’s position on yours. 

The subtle nose nudges only served your fingers to trail up his arm that held you close, tracing along the vein that started near his elbows and ran his wrist near your pulse on the side of your neck. Now, with the way that your thumb brushes softly on his soft skin, Juyeon could melt further into you, leaning in further to deepen his presence to you. Whenever he pulled back, you would be the one chasing after him pulling on his sweater, wanting to indulge in his loving space even more.

“Who’s the clingy one now?” That lands him a shy hit to his chest that only made him let out a weightless chuckle in the air. “The love of my life and the only one for me,” he whispers sweet nothings as your foreheads kiss each other, a sweet gaze grazing upon your facial features. “I love you, bubs.”

So maybe you weren't hypnotised at all that day. Maybe, the universe didn't hate you after all. Maybe, this was all meant to happen even though you did go through some stress when the sequential events happened.

“I love you more.”

But at least, the universe gave you a free coffee.

Two, you really did meet an angel named Lee Juyeon.

And three, just like how he holds the day when you confess to him that you love him back, you repeat the words that he said to you at the start of all your lovely days, “Every day is a lovely day when you're in my life.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 'especially to you...'

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @sanaxo-o

[avelera]

I think one reason social class stuff is such a big part of how I write Dreamling is because, at its core if you accept them as a couple, if Hob and Dream are some level of perfect for each other, destined for each other maybe not literally but perfectly matched thanks to the supernatural omniscience of someone like Death setting them up together on purpose based on her greater knowledge of all living things, then it is such a powerfully egalitarian message for a romance.

If Hob really is the one person in all of existence that can handle Dream's bullshit, if he was only given the chance and the time for them to grow into being partners to one another, it's such an insanely profound message. It means that out of billions and billions of people over billions and billions of years, a commoner, a literal peasant was born with the qualities to be a match for one of the most powerful beings in the universe. That being born into the right class be it titles or riches or magical birth right don't actually matter as far as what makes two people suited to each other.

Even if you narrow it to just, say, the sweep of human history, that Death only picked a partner for Dream best suited for these few thousand years of written human history, maybe just for the lifetime of our planet, the message still holds without going all cosmic.

It means that an entirely normal person with no blood right at all, no inherent magical powers, no divine destiny, nothing to distinguish him even from the other soldiers at his table, someone who was born into one of the worst time periods to live through, living an entirely average life that would never make it into any history books except as a footnote, one of billions of people the great stories will simply forget, actually was extraordinary in a way that might have otherwise gone unappreciated but Hob would still have been here, his life still would have happened even if he never got the chance to explore the full potential of his resilience to immortality and his love of life.

If Hob's superpower that allows him to be a match for Dream is simply wanting to live so much that he can withstand the gift of immortality on a level that we rarely see in fiction, that alone is huge. Just some guy from a rainy little island with an entirely common profession of being some peasant soldier, manages to withstand the hardships of time better than immortal beings who were literally born into that existence and into the power and theoretically the supernatural comfort to polish away a lot of the day to day trials that would make living as a human for that span incredibly difficult, like hunger, and losing loved ones, and the daily grind of hardship.

Dream has all this power at his disposal, he is a being of the ultimate privilege. He can literally craft a realm for his comfort, people to be his companions who are best suited to serve him and his needs. Yes he is bound by a function but even that function is one of the richest parts of life: stories and songs and joy and sorrow. The things we toil for the rest of our life so we can carve out the time to indulge in those things. The truly great experiences. That's his job. Not saying it couldn't wear on you, only that it's not like he's Despair or Destruction or even Destiny, bound to helplessly watch all of time unfurl when you already know what's going to happen. Dream has one of the most desirable roles of all of the Endless, at least in theory. He's completed insulated by supernatural levels of privilege: powerful, male-presenting, beautiful, a literal monarch, with a kingdom of beings designed to serve him. The one inherent difficulty he might be argued to have is some form of clinical depression and of course the general traumas that accumulate over so long a lifetime. Not to dismiss it, or say he's not allowed to suffer, profoundly from this and what he's experienced, just to be clear that others have suffered from those things too without the other tools he has at his disposal. He is desperately alone and lonely too, which honestly makes it even more profound for him to have someone who wants to reach out to him.

So to say that Hob, who was not born with any of those privileges or tools, indeed, was born into one of history's most difficult centuries at a time when England was nothing more than a backwater and, yes, Hob is white and male and able bodied, etc, he does not have those privilege marks against him and that will mean more as time goes on and England rises to be a world-dominating superpower and being from there will evolve into a true privilege, but keep in mind, Hob's also from a time where his class, his birth mean he doesn't actually count as part of the "in crowd" of privileged people. He could never be part of his own government, he would not be invited to read or write or be any sort of force in the world. Until the century he was born into it was a vanishingly small likelihood someone like him could ever be more than a serf, legally bound to remain a serf no matter any ambition he might have had. If not for the extreme population loss of the Black Plague granting social mobility out of necessity, Hob could have lived and died as a serf, leaving no other record of his existence.

Instead, Hob's joy, his will to live, and his resilience to withstand eternity that he has as just one of his human qualities, puts him on a level with actual literal gods and creatures more powerful than gods. It means that there is no blood right or inherent structure that makes Dream better than him such that Hob would be inherently a poor match. It means just a guy, out of trillions, was best suited to be the lover of something as old as the universe and more powerful than a god. Because he could handle Dream's bullshit. Because his inherent joy and resilience made him a match to someone who more than anything needs someone like him who can put up with their bullshit, withstand it, look forward to seeing him, actually long for his presence in a way none of Dream's peers do.

That's just... wow I know I'm explaining myself in circle at this point, but I just can't get over it sometimes. Maybe it's the history buff in me just obsessing over someone so, so minor in the grand sweep of history being matched with someone so singularly powerful in this universe as Dream. But if you go with the popular headcanon that Death picked Hob just for the reason of being the best person in the world to be at least Dream's friend but maybe his lover and eventual partner, wow, that really just says something about birth and blood and magic not being the measure of any single beings actual importance to one another, I'm obsessed with it.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven!!!

So you know some fanfics about Yuu/MC getting kidnapped by RSA cause they think that "They are too good for NRC"? Well do you think they ever tried to convince Silver to leave NRC? Because he literally has the qualifications to be a little Disney princess/princess(being that hes inspired by Aurora)

I don't know, RSA doesn't really seem like the type to kidnap or poach people for their school...? (Unless you were being completely hyperbolic when you used the term "kidnap" www) If Yuu were to go to RSA at all, I picture it more as being more of a temporary exchange student program or an offer extended to them by Ambrose the 63rd. I feel that we see this idea a lot in fandom works because we are curious about the RSA boys and/or want Yuu to go here and to help solve their issues too.

I personally love seeing RSA!AUs (both art and writing) for the various TWST characters, but I don't think this will actually be done in canon. If we're specifically talking about Silver, I don't think he has a current desire to leave (and nor would he be tempted to), especially since his Diasomnia family is at NRC. Additionally, while he may be princess-like, Silver also has qualities which are trademarks of NRC. For example, he is shown to be competitive with Sebek in matters of knightly duties and has difficulties with expressing himself to others. He's not really what I'd describe as spoiled or prissy either (derogatory descriptions given to describe the RSA kids), he can get quite serious and willing to fight when it comes to the safety of the people he cares about. Yes, he talks about wanting everyone to get along but that makes sense as a part of his character on account of how he was raised (while the RSA students are presented as inherently trusting). Silver may be more agreeable than your average NRC kid, but he's still got some of that school's spirit in him. He's definitely a part of Night Raven College's community.

While Silver may not be everyone's bestie, I don't see them finding him off-putting enough to want him to go somewhere else. Even if his peers saw him in a positive light, they wouldn’t think he’s “too good” for NRC—not when NRC kids think they’re better than RSA. They don’t see RSA as “better”, and nor would the generally prideful students of NRC confess they think anyone is “better” than themselves, Silver or otherwise.

I also just disagree entirely with the notion that "good" people go to RSA and "bad" people go to NRC. We may view it that way on a metatextual level (as players who are familiar with Disney villains), but it definitely isn't presented that way in-universe. (Why would Kalim, Rook, and Silver be attending NRC if only "bad" people attend?) RSA and NRC both just happen to be prestigious magical schools and rivals, and nothing more than that. Judging people by the labels of "good" and "bad" by themselves are also blanket terms which ignore nuance. Just because a character does something good or is generally well-behaved doesn't necessarily make them "good", and nor does doing something bad or being ill-mannered necessarily make them "bad". That's one of the major themes of Twisted Wonderland, getting us to see the "good" in "bad" people. I'm sure that if we delved into RSA's population, we'd also find that the perfect presenting students aren't so perfect after all.

[gabessquishytum]

no sex ed dream au, but omegaverse?

they start sleeping together and dream, of course, after being introduced to the wonder of orgasms, could only be pried apart from hob with heavy machinery. which is all fine and dandy (hob certainly has no complaints), until dream gets pregnant...but doesn't know about it. he feels different, sure, and his body is sore ,and he's tired, and he's thrown up a few times. if his pants don't quite fit the same he chalks it up to hob feeding him better (as good lovers are wont to do). but hob, as an alpha, has no difficulty sniffing out the source of dream's problem. and as soon as he makes the connection that dream's new pheromones are because he's pregnant, well...it's a good thing he can't fuck multiples into him.

I just love the idea of Hob trying to explain to Dream that he's pregnant, because Dream fully refuses to believe it 🤣

"I think you're pregnant, love" "no I think I'm just a bit chubbier now" "honey no" "but only married and mated people get pregnant" "......no, love that's not how it works" "but don't pregnant people throw up a lot?" "you were sick 4 times last week" "but didn't we use protection?" "it isn't 100% effective, love" "WHAT???? WHY NOT????"

Only when they actually go and see the doctor does it actually sink in for Dream that he's pregnant - and he takes it very well. He reads all the pamphlets about all the options diligently, and decides that he wants to keep the pregnancy. With or without Hob.

And of course Hob is like "you silly sausage of course we're doing it together. if youre sure." And Dream is sure. But he's also pretty sure that while theyre so young, they should probably stick with just one. They can always have more later. So: if Hob wants to knot him, he'd better do it as much as possible while Dream is still pregnant and they don't need to worry about additional happy accidents.

(Dream is dumb if he thinks he's going to live without Hob’s knot after this pregnancy. 10 weeks after the birth he's begging for Hob to breed him again. They'll use protection of course, but who knows what can happen!)

Hob is, of course, more than happy to fuck his pregnant omega into ecstacy as many times as required. He's literally never smelt or felt anything better. Whatever Dream wants, he can have - he's made Hob the happiest, proudest alpha in the universe. And probably also the horniest too.

[twistedtummies2]

The sound of rollin’ dice to me Is music in the air! ‘Cause I’m a Gamblin’ Boogieman, Although I don’t play fair!

It’s much more fun, I must confess, When lives are on the line! Not mine, of course, But yours, old boy! ow that’d be just fine…

"Oogie Boogie's Song," Ken Page

—-----------------------------------------------------------

The long, LONG delayed final image in my “OCs & Inspirations” series, at least for now. This was originally intended to be part of a bunch of pics commemorating Disney’s 100th Anniversary, but the artist was facing some difficulties, so it took much longer than expected. I don’t mind in the least, however, because this was more than worth the wait…and hey, Valentine’s Day may not be the most obvious holiday of choice to release this, but a holiday is still a holiday. And with these two, it felt right to post their pic on such an occasion. Oh, on that note, before I go on: the image was made by @hooter-n-company, who also did my image for Nakoda and Kaa for the series a while back. I can’t honestly decide which of them I like more, between this image and that one; they’re both absolutely breathtaking. Her work always is. Thank you, Hoots. <3 ANYWAY…Reno was the first character I specifically created as a sort of “correction” to an old pred crush of mine. Nako and Billy being more “appealing” versions of their source inspirations (for me) was just sort of a welcome bonus. But with Reno, I deliberately created him with the idea of taking a character I used to have an interest in “that way,” but no longer do, and then creating someone I could “kinkify” more easily via the power of Twisted Wonderland’s universe. When I was a kid, I used to have a bit of a crush on Oogie Boogie from “The Nightmare Before Christmas.” I even had some rather…VIVID dreams, involving this big bag of bugs, which I shall always remember. However, over time, my interests and ideals with such things changed, and as they did, my love for Oogie dwindled. Reno was my way of trying to do something more “me” with the character.

The name “Reno” comes from Reno, Nevada. It was suggested by my friend, @belliesandburps. Since Reno is just a big a gambler as Oogie, it seemed fitting to use the name of a city known for gambling - and in the same state as arguably the gambler paradise of the world, Las Vegas - for his name. “Rovar” comes from a Hungarian word meaning “insect,” which of course fit perfectly. Combined, the two have a similar sort of “bounce” and syllabic structur to “Oogie Boogie,” and the alliteration was amusing to me. In terms of personality, Reno, in a way, is Oogie…but with a sort of soft side. Like, his source material, he is crass, crude, loud, rowdy, mischievous, a bit sadistic, and constantly thinks with his stomach. HOWEVER, for all his jagged edges, Reno isn’t someone who does bad things just for the sheer sake of it, unlike Oogie. Reno still has the capacity to care about people, and even some of the more “evil” things he’s done were usually out of a sort of bitter desire to get back at people he felt were more fortunate, while also helping himself and those he cared about in the process. He’s not the easiest person to get along with, but he’s not a literal monster.

I decided to sort of reverse things in terms of the way Oogie’s true self is revealed in the film, for Reno. In the movie, Oogie glows green in blacklight, but his actual appearance is a much duller beige hue. And of course, when you strip away the bag, he’s a collection of creepy crawlies underneath. So, with Reno, his human form has dull colors, with a sweater that resembles Oogie’s burlap, but his true form - a sort of “demi bug” - is colored in shades of vibrant green. His Overblot form, meanwhile - which Hoots helped IMMENSELY with working out - has a sort of neon appearance, inspired by the look of Oogie’s lair, and is a collection of different elements from different arthropods.

In this case, I think the different colors help the pair stand in good contrast to each other. ;)

[vibratingskull]

Hello hello! happy new year 🎊🎊🎊!!! I was just wondering if you could do a part two to the stranded fic you wrote for Thrawn (totally optional ofc ignore this if you want‼️‼️‼️) I think it would be interesting to see the aftermath of their relationship like are they rescued or not? If they're not do they just say fuck it let's start a family? If so do they eventually get discovered by the rebels/empire (sort of like the plot for Ahsoka ig???) And they're like yo look at me and my family haha fuck y'all I'm not going back to civil society I love my partner and our children! (If you can't tell I have been thinking about this situation for ages it's making me go crazy with the possibilities) Your fics feed my soul tbh I'd actually die for your writing I go feral when you update the JC series or just post something in general 💞💞💞 (idk how to end this lmao I barely request stuff LMAOOOO idk if I'm even doing it right 😭) (also feel free to make it as horny as you want you can literally make it the sexiest of smut or just make it completely cute and tooth rottingly sweet!!!!!) (Again ignore this if it's something you're not interested in or if it breaks a rule or something!!!!!!)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw thank you love ❤️Happy new year to you too❤️Thank you for your support, my dear. I hope you will love this one too❤️

Part 1

ThrawnxF!reader

Tag : Non descriptive birth, cunni, P in V, creampie

You open your eyes, your face bathing in a ray of sun. It is already quite hot outside, but the hut retains the freshness of the night quite well. You rise in a seating position, on your mattress of hay and palm tree leaves in a sheet of linen. Next to you Thrawn’s spot is cold already, he must be awake for some time now. You wince as your baby hits your tummy.

“I’m sorry darling, you must be hungry.” You gently caress your swollen stomach. “I will find something for us to eat.”

You stand up on your feet, a little bit unbalanced by your pregnant stomach and head for the main place. You wave at your neighbors that go around their business, greeting you in return.

A month after escaping the cannibal village you crossed paths with another alien species, beings you can at best described as frog people with their globulous eyes and slimy greenish skin, but full of kindness and a strong community sense. They welcomed you in their village, feeded you and soothed your wounds, and contrary to the cannibal village Thrawn did not detect any ill intent or habits in their art. He analyzed that they were former peaceful wanderers of the universe that crashed on the planet like you did millennia ago. In fact, the village is right next to the destroyed carcass of the ship that brought them here, the survivor took everything useful from the ship and built a new community.

They now speak a bastardization of Basic, permitting you to communicate with them quite well, even if there are still some mishaps here and there. You came to discover the cannibals took them regularly for preys and they had the greatest difficulties at repelling them, their former peaceful ways led to a more armed culture but they are still not efficient soldiers. That’s when Thrawn intervened. He trained with their warriors to get used to their different weapons and tactics and convinced the chiefs to let him lead their warriors on the next attack. 

And he did.

Successfully. 

For the first time in the millenia of conflict between the two species the frog people didn’t lose any lives or children to the cannibals. The party that followed that night was grandiose and flashy, the frog people warmly thanked Thrawn and offered you both to stay at the village.  

You accepted, given they weren’t murderous cannibals. Thrawn pondered the question longer, still focused on the possibility of finding a way to come back to the Empire.

There wasn’t.

The frog people spreaded all around the globe of that planet and established colonies on all the continents and kept a tight diplomatic bond between each colony. The chiefs proposed you remain in the village to relax for while they sent messages to the other colonies to ask them. You have been in the village for some weeks now but Thrawn decided he would go to meet the other colony and have the chance to ask for himself. And you would not let his politically incompetent ass go anywhere alone unless you wanted him to create chaos, so you decided to go with him. But the morning of your departure you started puking and couldn’t walk without feeling weak so Thrawn carried you bridal style to the healer of the tribe, deciding to postpone his travel until you knew what was going on.

And you didn’t have to wait long.

After examining your body and checking your hormonal balance with some reactives plants the healer determined that you were pregnant! You had a moment of silence, brain frozen, taking in the news and asked for other tests to be conducted immediately, she obliged, and ended up with the same results. Thrawn wasn’t in the hut, politely waiting outside while she examined your body.

You were at a loss of words. A multitude of contradicting emotions raging in your brain and heart.

You were pregnant? Chiss and humans are compatible?

How would Thrawn react? How should YOU react? It was one thing to share a night of passion with your enemy turned ally while you were stranded, carrying his child and heir was a complete other matter!The healer noticed your clear lack of enthusiasm and asked if you wanted to terminate the pregnancy now.

You had no words. Should you do it? Should you not? How would your comrades react at the sight of you bearing the child of the Grand Admiral Thrawn?

Should you even tell him? If you took the preparation she was handing you and terminated the pregnancy in its early stage, was it even worth informing Thrawn?

You decided that yes.

It was.

You called for him and he entered the hut, kneeling down next to you he gently put a strand of hair out of your face with his fingers in a reassuring gesture. You smiled at him gently and warned him to stay seated for the news. He turned to the healer, squinting his eyes in concentration and maybe some worry.

“Is it a dangerous illness?” He asked, “Is her life at risk?”

“Her life is at risk, but not by an illness. This is simply the circle of life.”

He tilted his head, clearly not understanding the healer's words. You took his hand and squeezed it, looking at him in the eyes.

“Thrawn…” You started, deadly serious, “I am pregnant.”

He fully turned to you in complete silence, his eyes barely rounding up in surprise, his control remaining total. Will you one day be able to surprise this man?

He remained mute for a full minute, eyes fixed in yours, before opening his mouth.

“Do you want this child?” Was his only question, his only worry.

“I… Do not know.” You confessed. “What if we find a way to go home?”

“I would not impose you to follow me in the Empire’s ranks.”

“Then could I deprive this child of their father? Could I tell them their parents are mortal enemies?”

“Maybe you could send them to me.” He proposed.

“And have them in the Imperial system? Out of the question! My child will not be an imperial pawn!” You exclaimed resolutely.

“I could send them to the Ascendancy.” He proposed again.

You pondered that possibility. You live a dangerous life made of battles and combats, constantly on the run. Thrawn has more stability, but you will not make your child and Imperial citizen, they will be free and nothing else. Sending them to the Ascendancy, to Thrawn original worlds however… might be their best chances. He talked to you about it for long hours, revealing to you his memories, maybe… Maybe this is the best you could offer that child.

Of course it would mean being separated from your own flesh and blood, but the life you would give them isn’t a life for a child.

“That’s a good idea.” You finally nod. “It would be a more stable environment for them.”

Thrawn squeezed your hand approvingly in response

“But do you even want this child?” You raise your head to him, “We never talked about it. We don’t even know what we are.”

Since that night you shared, you didn’t leave each other's side, living, sleeping, bathing together, just spending the days hand in hand. But you are not in a regular situation, is a relationship started in such extreme conditions as of a crash a stable basis for a healthy couple? Do the standard relationships apply to you? So far away from all laws and civilization do putting a label on your situation even make sense?

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You are the one carrying the embryo, you have the final word. But if you ask me : yes. I want that child.”

But you are still unsure. Are you ready to be a mom? Delivery in those conditions could be incredibly dangerous for you and the baby, what about infections, complications? The frog people kept some techniques and technology from when they still traveled the universe but a lot of machinery simply died for lack of energy source or repair pieces. Could you give birth away from the comfort and security offered by a hospital?

The healer took the powder and poured it in an envelope that she handed to Thrawn.

“Take the time to think about it.” She simply said, giving you a bay to eat to help with nausea.

You exited the little hut in silence, the envelope pressed against your chest. Thrawn circled your shoulders with his arm.

“We need to talk.” He said very seriously, “Let’s put you to bed, first.”

He guided you to your hut and helped you lay down, putting the traveling gear in one corner of the room.

“I am sorry.” You breathed, “I’m slowing you down.”

“No need for excuses. You are forgiven.” He responded by coming back to you, kneeling at your side.

He put his hand on your forehead to take your temperature very delicately.

“Are you comfortable?” 

You nod, the nausea slowly subsiding. He remains silent for a long moment, only caressing your forehead, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. But he is never lost, merely reorganizing his brain like a computer.

“What?” you asked with a little voice.

“Nothing.” He said.

“You are fixing me so intently.”

“I am simply thinking, I thought about what you said: “We don’t even know what we are”.”

You purse your lips. It’s true you said that.

You were content about what you had all this time but the prospect of a child put everything into perspective and demanded clarifications.

“I am not wrong. We never really discussed about us, just lived in the present moment.” you argue.

“You are right, it was not a criticism.” He tampers with his deep melodious voice, “Were you happy during those times?”

“Yes.” you confess.

“Me too.” he admits too, “Do you envision yourself pursuing this relationship seriously?”

“I… Is this what you want? We talked about keeping seeing each other and all that, but… Does being a couple make any sense here? Does going official have any weight in our situation?”

“To me it does.” He tilted his head, “I want to be with you. Live with you, build a family with you.”

“And when we get rescued?” You ask, “You didn’t renounce that possibility. What then? We go our merry way, tearing the family apart?”

“I am afraid we will be blocked here for some time.” He responded, “If we ever get rescued.”

You frowned.

“You think there is a risk we stay stranded here?”

“This is a possibility to keep in mind.” He ominously said

You sighed, suddenly exhausted. You closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind.

“Do not take the medicine, please.” You suddenly heard him murmuring so low you almost doubted you heard him.

You reopen your eyes to look at him interrogatively.

“I want this baby. I want to be a father. I want to live with you and see our children grow. Leave me a chance to prove to you I am worth it.” He said, looking into your gaze with sparkly eyes.

His tone was assured and affirmative but you saw so much hope in those red eyes, all the dreams he had to leave behind when he became a Grand Admiral, he could live them here. He could restart anew, fresh,  become the man he dreamed to be deep inside himself.

You raised in a seating position with a grumble.

“I do not doubt your worth, nor your capacities to be a father, but… There is so much uncertainty, so much fog… I cannot take that decision carelessly.”

“I understand your doubts and difficult position. And whatever you do, I will respect your choice. But, if I may tell you my opinion, again, please do not take the medicine. I will be here for you and the child, I want us to live all together. As a family”

“I will think about it…” You clench your fist around the envelope.

“Of course, Cha’cah.” He leaned forward to capture your lips in an infinitely soft kiss that you would have never believed him capable of, “The final choice is yours only.”

He caressed your cheek, kissed your forehead and left you alone to nap and gather energy.

You didn’t sleep, a headache threatened you all day long. And as usual, when night came you felt his arms wrapping around your form, tighter this night. You were pressed against his broad chest, his warm body, shielding you from the rest of the world.

You never took the medicine.

You pondered it during long weeks before one day standing still in front of Thrawn and handing him the envelope.

“Get rid of it.” you simply said.

He looked at the envelope, squinting, before grasping your arm and pulling you in a tight hug.

“Thank you.” He murmured, nose buried in your hair.

And that is how you ended up giving birth to your daughter. A healthy little girl in a rush to come into the world.

You woke up in the middle of the night like someone stabbed your womb before realizing your waters broke. Thrawn, awakened in a flash, helped you to the healer and she woke up all the women of the village, all came in the middle of the night to help. A birth is a matter of the entire community here.

They helped you to get rid of your tight clothes and enter a bath, trying to help you relax and relieve any tension. Thrawn was pushed outside the hut unceremoniously at first, “it is a women’s affair only.” They said to him, you don’t know what he responded but he was finally authorized to stay after a back and forth. He came to your side and took your hand, circling your shaking shoulders with his long arm.

“You got this, Cha’cah. I know you can do it.” He praised and supported you.

He talked to you during the whole process, taking your mind off the pain, kissing your temple, squeezing your hand.

Until finally, you heard her first scream.

She was as blue as him, with the same red eyes, but she inherited your hair. You immediately took her in your arms, still shaking and full of sweat but so relieved and happy.

Your little baby.

Your daughter.

Thrawn cut the umbilical cord with the fang dagger he gave you and came to your side to admire his daughter, delicately caressing her head still full of blood.

“She looks like you.” You say out of breath and the heart spilling love.

“Indeed. But she has your features. She will be as beautiful as you.”

He hugged you both like you could vanish at any second.

“Welcome to the world, little one. I love you so much.” He murmured, taking her in his large hands.

“What should we call her?” You ask. “We should pick a Chiss name.”

He looked at you with a hint of surprise and gratitude.

“What do you think of… Thaishi?” He proposed with a thin smile, eyes fixated on the baby.

“Taishi… Little Thaishi.” You make the name roll on your tongue, “I like it a lot.”

“Welcome Thaishi. My daughter.” He let out still incredulous, but the love and warmth was unmistakable in his voice. He immediately initiated skin-to-skin contact, trying to appease your daughter’s cries before the healer took her to examine her.

It was four years ago.

Thaishi speaks and sprints everywhere now, she is unstoppable, making you run after her all day long under Thrawn’s amused loving gaze. 

She is already at the buffet this morning when you arrive at the center of the village. The frog people cook for the community and not for individuals, hunt together, fish together, gather together and they eat all together. But today is not your day to cook so you slept late.

You caress Thaishi’s head who doesn’t even take the time to sit with others to eat, she just picks what she wants and eats it immediately. She looks up to you with her mouth full, making her look like a hamster.

“Go sit with the kids, little terror.” You kiss her forehead.

She picks up three other fruits and runs to the kiddos and sits with them.

“(Y/n), we could have brought the food to your hut!” The lady in charge of the cooks today chastises you.

“No, it’s better if I come to eat with everyone.” You respond with an appeasing smile, “Did you see Thrawn this morning?”

“He was out hunting with the youngs early, they should… Ah! Talk about the wolf!”

You spin on yourself, your plate in hand, to see the hunters entering the village with their games. Thrawn stands out with his deep blue skin against their green ones, you notice him immediately. Everyone comes to them to inspect the meat and congratulate the hunters.

“How is my wife this morning?” Thrawn asks, pulling you in his arms immediately.

You giggle as he presses you against his large body, your pregnant belly in the way. He leans forward to kiss you tenderly and then kneels to caresses your belly with enamored red eyes.

You feel your baby giving a kick against his palm.

“They are full of energy.” He notes satisfied.

“Thaishi is too! I have trouble containing her sometimes.”

“Thaishi, listen to your mother.” Thrawn takes his daughter's shoulder in his hand, “It is important to obey adults, young one. We do it for your protection.”

“But I can’t help it, I want to run and jump everywhere!” She responds with her mouth full.

“Young lady, your table manners are lacking. We need to correct them.” He boops her nose.

She gulps her bite down and smiles at him with all her teeth.

“Go play, we will study Cheuhn later.” He smoothes her hair and pushes her gently towards the kids.

You both look at her running again to her comrades, the only blue skin and red eyes in the green and globulous eyes. 

You sigh, the heart so full of love it could explode any minute now, when you feel Thrawn arms circling your shoulders.

“She’s four already.” You let out.

“Yes. She is growing quickly.”

“I feel like I gave birth to her yesterday and now look at her… Running all over without losing her balance. Maker… Tomorrow she will be a fully grown adult.”

“She will not, do not worry. She will remain our little lady whatever happens.”

You glance at him with a little grin.

“Are you becoming sentimental, Thrawn? What’s happening to my tough warrior?”

He chuckles lowly in response, amused.

“I have always been sentimental since she was a baby. Do not tell me you never noticed?”

“Oh I did notice! It was quite endearing to see you melt before her by the way! Seeing your facade cracking before your own baby…” You lay your head on his shoulder, caressing his cheek. “You have a good heart, Thrawn.”

“When it comes to you three, I always do.” He puts a hand on your tummy “What did the healer say yesterday?”

“They are growing quickly and well. I gained plenty of weight, my hormones are balanced and she didn’t notice anything wrong.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t have the correct equipment, so much could escape her.” He argues, suddenly frowning.

“Thrawn… Women have been giving birth here in those conditions for a millenia! So much they spread all over the continents, their death rate is really low. She knows her stuff.” You comfort him, holding his cheeks in your hands.

He slowly nod.

“You are right, as always.”

“I already gave birth, I can do it. I know I can.” You insist.

He kisses your palms delicately.

“I trust you, Cha’cah.”

“Good.” You raise on tiptoes to brush your nose with his. “Did you eat this morning?”

“I did, right before the hunt.” He squeezes your hand, “I will be on the ship if you need me.” 

He kisses your forehead and grabs and carries Thaishi on his shoulders making her scream laughing among the children. 

You go back with the others, sitting on your ankles, observing your husband and daughter as you eat your fruits. Your minds start wandering back to the night you wed Thrawn, you remember being in his arms, heavily pregnant with Thaishi, laying on your mattress. He was caressing your hair as your cheek was pressed against his chest, listening to his beating heart.

“We should get married.” He suddenly said in the dark of the night.

“Why?” you asked, yawning.

“We have a baby on the way. We should do it for them.”

“For them? Not because you’re so in love with me you could feel your heart explode?” You tease him with a light laugh.

“Do you doubt my love?”

“No Thrawn, I was simply joking. I do not doubt you.” You brush your cheek on the skin of his pec to reassure him.

Something you picked up on is Thrawn's low self esteem, or rather poor view of his own person. You realized it listening to him talk about his time in the Ascendancy, he measures his self worth though his capacity to serve and obey his people, completely ignoring his innate value as an individual being. He thinks of himself as a tool, a cog, in the great scheme of things. Just a usable asset to throw away once he has served his purpose. And maybe the most terrifying thing in this situation is that he was contented by this. To him he isn’t deserving of respect and love if he fails his duties. It is a completely normal situation to him, something he has internalized and never questioned.

So he didn’t understood you throwing yourself at him to hug him tight and reassuring him that you loved him. He stayed still, like frozen, listening to you declaring your love to him so suddenly he had nothing to say, maybe a bit shocked.

From this day on you took care to tell him everyday that you loved him, hugging and kissing him, showering him with your love, proving to him that whatever flaws he had or whatever failures he may have committed, he was worthy of unconditional love.

“I love you, (y/n). It is a fact that I cannot deny. When I realize you are in my presence, my heart tightens. When you speak, my heart seems to jump. When you are in my arms, it races. I daresay those symptoms point to love.”

“I know, my love.” You grazed your finger on his chest, “I love you all the same. I am truly at ease and relieved when you are at my side. I worry when I do not feel your presence.”

He took your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“I will not leave you. I am whole and appeased only with you.” 

You raised your head to kiss his jaw tenderly.

“I want to tie my legacy to yours, be a family.” He continues. 

You looked intently at his laying form silently.

“Because you miss yours?”

He remained silent and his gaze fixed on the ceiling seemed to harden.

“There is no need to hide it, love. It is natural to long for the presence of your family, whoever you are. It means you have a heart and a home to go back to.”

“I have a duty towards them. I will not go back to them until it is done.” He finally said with a hard tone.

It wasn’t directed against you, you knew it, it was simply a testimony of his resolution.

“So you truly want it?” You questioned gently.

“It would fill my heart with bliss if you bestowed yourself to me.” He confessed with a tone of  confidence, caressing your cheek.

“If you promise to love me for all eternity, I accept to be yours.” You said.

He kissed your knuckles again before putting your hand on his beating heart.

“For all eternity, Cha’cah. You have my word.”

You lowered yourself and kissed his lips gently, he responded lasciviously, deepening the kiss.

He stood up, helped you rise on your feet and you sneaked away in the night to the Chiefs hut like children who would have stolen a cookie jar. The chiefs performed the ceremony according to their traditions and you were married to Thrawn.

To your Grand Admiral.

And him to his Rebel.

You shared the decisive kiss with the chiefs benedictions and felt your heart tightening with love. He kissed your forehead tenderly while caressing your cheek and you hugged him tight.

Now, with you pregnant, your destinies were intertwined forever.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You never told the rest of the community, they didn’t need to know. You were together and that is all that mattered.

But there was one dark stain on the canvas.

You made peace with the fact that you wouldn’t get rescued by now. That is also why you carried the pregnancy to term and accepted his hand in marriage. Because deep down you felt you would never get out of this isolated planet.

But Thrawn didn’t.

Thrawn keeps fighting everyday to go home. 

And you’re not sure how to feel about that.

Was it his loyalty to the Empire or his relentless devotion to the Ascendancy that pushed him so much? He refused to answer.

But coming back signifies saying goodbye. And that’s tearing your heart apart. When you realized he was tempering with the ship communication device to send messages to the Empire you badly reacted, you had your first real fight. He refused to stay arms dangling when his duties called for him and you refused to help go back to his murderous Empire.

In the end you remained a rebel and a Grand Admiral.

And it created the first cracks in your marriage.

A chance Thaishi was still a baby and couldn’t understand why her parents were arguing, but she did pick up on the bad vibes and your cracked voice and started crying. Before Thrawn could pick her up to console her, you took her, shouting he better get used to not seeing his family if he wanted to go back to the Empire so badly and ran off to the hut of friends and remained here for a full week.

You regretted those words. So badly. He never once raised his voice against you, remaining calm, but also so cold, so calculating, his determined gaze terrified you so you preferred to flee with your daughter.

He came to your friends’ hut everyday to see his child and everyday you refused, hugging her against your heart. You were so mad, so terrified, so… So betrayed! How could he dare do that to your family?

When you accepted to receive him, he sat down in front of you in silence, just observing his baby in your arms with a loving gaze.

But he was actively trying to tear his family apart and you couldn’t forgive him just yet.

“How is she?” he asked

“Good.”

“Can I hold her?”

“No.” you placidly answered

He simply took a deep breath in response before opening his mouth again.

“We should talk.”

“Indeed we should. You have a lot of explaining to do.” You frowned.

“I had good reasons to try to go back to the Empire.”

“Yes, evidently you are still very much attached to this tyranny.”

“You do not understand. I didn’t tell you everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, what could he say to save his image now?

“If I am so attached to this tyranny, as you call it, it is to save my worlds.”

And he explained everything to you, all the secrets he kept hidden all this time, secrets nobody’s outside of him and a certain Ba’kif knew about. The true reasons of his mission and allegiance to the Empire, anything he didn’t tell you before.

You just listen silently, eyes round and mouth agape.

“... You may hate me now, but I will demand to keep seeing my daughter. This is all I ask for.”

“I…” You just manage to say, lost “I am sorry, Thrawn.”

He remained silent, sounding you with his inquisitive red gaze, awaiting your reaction once you gathered your thoughts.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” You concede, “But I couldn’t turn a blind eye either…” You try to show him where you come from.

But he is determined.

“I know. But my success depends on the success of the Empire.”

“The success of the Empire implies the subjugation of all races and slavery.”

“Not when I will have taken control of it. This is a necessary evil for now.”

“This is horrible… How can you say that?” You said, pained.

“This is war, casualties are inevitable. ” He insisted, “But when I will lead it, everything will end. You need to trust me.”

You lower your gaze to observe your daughter’s face. She is peacefully sleeping in your arms, soothed by both of your voices. She is as blue as him, with the same red eyes…

You already tied yourself to him, for better and for worse…

You sigh, closing your eyes. You hear him getting closer and circling your shoulders with his arm.

“I need you to trust me, cheo Cha’cah. I do it for the greater good.” He murmurs soothingly.

You purse your lips.

“I will not hinder you, but do not expect me to help you in any way!” You annonce with tenacity.

“Alright.” He gently kisses your shoulder, “Are you still mad?”

“Yes! A lot! But… I understand better now.” You say giving him a side glance.

He looks deep into your eyes, squeezing your shoulders against his body.

“I love you…” He confesses like a secret.

“Me too…” You reassure him. “But I will need time.”

“Will you let me hold our daughter?”

You gently give him your baby and she opens her eyes to meet his. He presses her delicately against his chest, a skin-to-skin hug so important for babies. She grabs one of his fingers in her little fist and starts babbling, smiling at her father.

“Hello you.” He gently says, “I missed you.”

You purse your lips, feeling like a heartless monster for depriving him of his child, and her, her father.

He slept with Thaishi in his arms that night and you pressed yourself against him, looking at your baby, cheek pressed on the chest of her father, sleeping soundly, at peace.

And you cried, knowing that this could come to an end one day.

You’re being brutally called back to reality when Thaishi sprinted into your laps to smash into you.

“Leys proposed to me to spend the day with her!” She exclaims joyfully as you try to catch your breath after that hit.

You turn towards Ley’s mother, slowly nodding.

“You need some peace and quiet at that point in your pregnancy, (Y/n). Relax for the day, we will take care of the kids.”

You turn back to Thaishi, eyes full of hope.

“Alright, but you must promise to behave well when you are with them! And don’t forget your Cheuhn lesson with your father.”

“Yes, mom!” She already sprints back to her friends group, barely listening to you.

She only listens to her father. You sigh, shaking your head.

Kids…

You yawn and decide to use this newfound liberty to take a nap, even if you just woken up. You were soundly sleeping for some hours now, back at your hut, when you felt a warm body pressing itself against your back and strong, large hands caressing your pregnant belly.

“Welcome back, sir…” You yawn.

Thrawn kisses your shoulders, pressing you tighter against his large body.

“How are you feeling?” He whispers.

“Heavy!” You burst out laughing “And fat! This belly gets in the way of everything, it’s impressive.”

“You are beautiful like that.” He insists, “I found you more and more hypnotizing as your pregnancy advances” He keeps caressing your tummy tenderly.

“Are you sure you are the most objective person in this situation?” You argue back with a side grin.

“I need not to be objective, I only need my eyes to witness your bewitching beauty. And I can confidently say you are the most beautiful of all.”

“Even when my body is limp and bloated like that?”

“Especially like that. You being pregnant is a real… Temptation.” He breathes lowly in your ear, “I have all the pain in the world to maintain my control.”

“You? Struggling to keep your control in check? I do not believe you sir.” You laugh.

“And yet, such is the effect you have on me.” He starts kissing your neck, slowly going up. “You mesmerize me in every possible way.” He licks your ear with the tip of his tongue.

“You are really touchy today.” You squirm in his embrace, brushing your soft body against his muscles.

“I have been struck by a real vision.” 

“Well thank you sir, I take care of myself!” You joke. “You are quite handsome yourself!”

Your hair has grown too by the time and he buries his nose in it to inhale your scent.

“I want to eat you up.” He says with a growl.

“Aren’t I delectable?” You keep joking.

“You are. Exactly to my taste, but you misunderstood me.” He leans again, blowing on the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “I want to eat you out until you are a shaking mess in my hands, until you can not remember your own name.” He gives another quick lick to your ear.

His deep voice has such an effect on you, you can’t help but shudder in response, much to his satisfaction. Thrawn proved himself physically affectionate, not shy to express his love physically in public or in private… Especially in private! And even though Thaishi’s birth didn’t stop your sex life, it is true it slowed it down a bit. Your last sexual relationship was some months ago and the new pregnancy didn’t help, even though… Thrawn looks at you differently when you’re pregnant.

You're convinced it teases something deeply buried in his psyche and entrails, it excites him, always looking at you wherever you are, always holding you in his arms in some ways, keeping you to himself…

You remember your first pregnancy, he had his hands all over you all day long, drinking between your legs for long hours, getting more and more unhinged as your tummy started to get bigger and bigger. 

Maybe it is one of his kinks… You have the occasion to verify it today…

You turn to face him with a cheeky grin.

“So you like me pregnant.” You state. 

“It is a wonder of nature.”

“Is that it?” You innocently pull on your shirt to reveal your belly to his eyes.

The light growl emanating from him was unmistakable. His gleaming eyes seem to shine brighter and you think you see him gulp.

“Just a wonder of nature?” You insist, blinking your eyes naively.

“I wonder what kind of reaction you expect of me, flashing your pregnant belly to me.”

“I don’t know… Maybe I am simply curious?”

He raises an eyebrow in response, not buying your innocent act.

“Curious?” He repeats cautiously.

“Curious about the fantasy of my man… What titillates him, what excites him, what drives him absolutely…” You keep your act, drawing sweet circles with your nail on your heavy tummy. “... Crazy.”

He takes a deep breath, eyes locked on your round belly, clearly interested in what you have to offer. His growl takes a dive in the deeper tone, squinting his eyes, trying to maintain his cool in front of your insolent temptation allurement.

He remains very set back in his fantasies, never truly revealing his true taste, preferring to oblige yours instead so you have only an unfinished portrait of his kinks.

But this…

This caught his attention well and you intend to play a bit with it.

“I feel like I have your full attention.” you smile cheekily.

“You do.” he says, cautious of your little game, but so tempted.

“My belly is so soft and warm, if only you could feel it like I do.” You tease mercilessly. “Do you like me pregnant with your child?”

“Yes. A lot.” His voice is no more than a growl now.

He extends his hand to caress your tummy and you slap it immediately. He groans, displeases, and frowns in response.

“No touch. You can only admire.”

“You have no mercy.” He mediates, “Will you really deny me?”

“Maybe. After all, physical exhaustion is really bad for me, I don’t know if letting you do what you want is good for the baby.” You clap back without pity for him.

“I do believe what I have in mind is really good for both of you.” He insinuates lowly.

“You have no proof of what you say.”

“Really? We can go ask the healer right now and we will know where we stand.” He responds without missing a bit, absolutely serious.

You observe him haughtily, like you’re not believing him and don’t intend to give up. He presses himself tighter to you. You wonder how it would get if you pushed him to his limits… 

He has always been soft and tender to you, but you’re curious. How is he when he is mad? When you push his dominant tendencies? 

You refrain from smiling like a deviant.

“Let me show you what I mean, and you will judge for yourself.” He proposes.

“I do not know if I will let you, mister. I am not convinced.” You put your hand on his mouth to push him back with a grin.

He licks your palm to get rid of your hand with a dark gaze.

“Do not play with me.” He warns.

“Or what? What will you do to your heavily pregnant wife?” You tease.

He flinches imperceptibly at the mention of your pregnancy, growling deeply like an annoyed animal.

“You couldn’t hurt a fly. I am not afraid in the slightest, mister.”

He looks at you intently and suddenly his Intense gaze melts into sparkling eyes and he lets out a sneer.

“You will not gain what you want by playing with my ego, Cha’cah.”

Oh Makers damn it!

“Come on!” You insist, pressing yourself more against him, “Humor me!”

“No.” He chuckles, amused like he would with a child, “You will not win that fight.”

“Pffffff… You’re no fun.” You purse your lips, sulking.

“On the contrary, I can be a lot of fun.” He embraces you tightly, “You just need to find the right levers.”

“I had one! You clearly were hanging onto every word when I showed you my belly!” You contest.

“Indeed. And you would have won if you kept playing with this strategy, but you made the tactical error of changing the point of pressure.”

You grumble, frustrated. You were really curious, how is sex with him when he’s mean and overly dominant?

“Do not frown, cheo cha’cah. You need not to play the temptress to seduce me, your innate charms work wonders.” He tries to soothe you.

“I wanted to see how it would go if you were mean and harsh.” You pout.

“Being mean and harsh to you is not appealing to me. I would rather honor you than demeaning you in any way.” He kisses your forehead.

You’re still deadly curious.

“I will find a way, one day.” You promise, seething.

“Do not sulk, my love.” He smiles, entertained, “Let me take care of you, it will ease the tension between your eyebrows, my darling.” He continues, lowering himself to kiss your clavicle and going more south.

He kisses your tummy reverently, leaving sweet kisses all over it while caressing it. You feel the baby giving him a kick and he responds with a final, loving peck.

“They too are quite energetic.” He notes, satisfied, “You keep giving me healthy and strong children. Thank you.”

He then reports his attention to your skirt that he slides down your hips and legs with ease. Still pouting, you close your legs shut to deny him, he chuckles again, sliding his hands between the flesh of your thighs and successfully opening them for him.

“Come on now, there is no need to be difficult, sweet thing. I know you love it when I go down on you.” 

It’s true.

With him being so good at it, you can only love it in return. But he doesn’t want to entertain your fancy so you won’t entertain his. You cross your arms over your chest with a grumble.

“You are unbelievable, cheo Cha’cah. You act like a spoiled child.” You hear his smug smile in his voice, hidden behind your stomach. “But I know how to make you react, I know everything about you.”

You feel the cold air on your pussy as he slides your panties on the side, he blows on your clit playfully, sending a shiver down your spine again but you refrain from the whine that threatens to pass your lips.

“I will have you sing soon enough, my love.” He says with his usual confidence.

He takes a sloppy lick at your pussy and you greet your teeth together. 

Do not make a sound! Do not make a sound! Do not make a sound!

Unimpressed by your headstrong attitude, he keeps licking your pussy lips lazily, like a tired, lascivious king, moaning his own pleasure for you.

He also knows that you absolutely love hearing him moan and groan, vocalizing his pleasure out loud, it goes straight to your empty pussy that starts to signify to you that it is scandalously empty.

He laps at your cunny slowly with the flat of his tongue, trailing your slit with his tip and sucking your nervous clit. You bite your lips and dig your nails into the flesh of your arms to maintain control over yourself.

“Your pussy is more honest than you are.” He notes, “It gets wetter to my touch while you childishly refuse to indulge.”

Oh, he’s one to talk about indulgence, mister frugal lifestyle!

“You do not! I am a dry ice cube! In fact I’m starting to get bored!” You manage to let out in a hurry before any tremors come to shake your voice.

Again he simply chuckles at you.

“You will break, my love.” He simply announces, kissing your sweet pussy between each word. “That is an absolute certainty.”

You’ll show him you can maintain control over your own person. You will not break!

But he is right on one point, your pussy does get wetter by the seconds, at you great damn.

You keep your jaws closed shut, froward. He resumes laving at your soft pussy that gets softer and softer as your blood travels south. You feel him spread your pussylips with his fingers to lick your hidden, tender flesh.

You feel your abdominals contracting at his sweet touch, and it didn’t escape him.

“Oh? Are those the first shivers of your undeniable pleasure?” He teases.

“I’m just cold.” You bite back

“Not for long, sweet thing. I will make sure of it.”

As he keeps licking your now dripping pussy you start hearing his purr resonating in the hut. He enjoys himself very much. He loves eating you out as much as you do, if not more. You suddenly feel his tongue entering your wet cavern and start tonguefucking you.

A single moan escapes you before you press your hand on your mouth. His purr drops down to deeper tones, sending shivers through your puffy, wet, walls, raising your hardly refutable pleasure…

“My little bird does not wish to sing for me? It is alright, I will have you crying, Cha’cah.”

And he starts fucking you harshly in retaliation, his tongue waving and grazing your G spot with such ease it is almost comical. His hand comes to flicker and press your clit, puffy with blood. He makes it roll between his fingers, titillates it consciously as he drinks your slick as he would drink water.

Maker those debauched sounds…

How the wet sounds of your little pussy and his grunts sound to your ears… This is highly depraved and debaucherous.

So exciting… Argh! Get a grip of yourself! Do not let him win!

He is… motivated, to say the least. He must have taken your vow of silence as a personnel challenge because he seems determined to have you cum hard and rapidly. He is eating you out with energy and a will you only encountered when you fought him in battle.

Despite your closed mouth, your uncontrollable whimpers can be heard well in this little room and it is the sweetest melody to his ears, only encouraging him to double his efforts. He eats you out enthusiastically, nastily, roughly, abusing your tender flesh with his swollen lips. He continues moaning without any shame, letting you know that he has no qualms enjoying himself to the fullest while you hold on to a childish pride.

Your dripping pussy convulses around his wet, flexible limb as he brushes your gummy spot with his tip expertly, making your pleasure rise more and more until it comes crashing down upon you. Your little cunny clenches painfully around his tongue and you come against his mouth and against your will.

“What a remarkably honest body you have, cheo Cha’cah. Letting me know everything I need to know without a fuss. Guiding me through your true desires so eagerly.”

“You’re full of yourself!” you spit out.

He gently kisses your thighs, licking you soft, plump flesh with a deep moan.

 “Abandon your immature act and just enjoy yourself. Why deny yourself like that, little rebel?” He asks curiously

You do not respond like a mutineer.

“Sometimes I do not understand you.” He sighs.

He kisses your pussy reverently, like he gallantly kisses your hand before rising up to free his erection of his constrictive pants. You look away, stubborn, refusing to look at the member that used to give you so many orgasms before.

“You looking away will not impede the inevitable.”

You feel him coat his shaft with your essence, brushing his cock between your slit back and forth, soaking it with your slick. It brushes against your erected, nervous clit and you have to fight another mewl rising in your throat.

“Your body gives me so much pleasure, I am thankful to you, my love.” He lets you know with a tone of secrets, “We should indulge more, sharing such intimate moments is so important to build a healthy relationship. I know our sex life slowed down since we became parents, but I still look at you as a woman first, not only a mother, with all the desires and craving it implies.” He continues.

He’s trying to win you over! To make you lower your defenses! You’ll not surrender for some sugary words, you have more will than that! He sighs lasciviously and unfastens his long hair, letting them frame his handsome face and draping his large shoulders. You gasp at this gorgeous sight.

“I know you think I am trying to sweeten you. I am simply telling my truth.” He brushes his noses in the crook of your neck, caressing your full tummy so tenderly. “Even if you obstinate yourself to deny yourself pleasure for an infantile vagaries, it will not prevent me from doing my best to satisfy you as it is my duty, cheo Cha’cah.” He informs you as a sentence.

You close your eyes shut as he pushes himself inside you, his size making it difficult for your little pussy. You press your lips in a thin line as he splits you in two with his massive member.

“I missed how your little pussy strangles me.” He gasps, deeply satisfied.

He keeps pushing further, pushing your inner flesh apart until you feel his tip brushing your cervix deep, deep inside your most secret place. 

You gulp, bracing yourself for what is to come.

“You are so tense, my love. You should relax.” He says tenderly, “There is no need to make the experience uncomfortable for you.”

“I am 8 months pregnant, I do not simply "relax "." You mock.

“A deep and warm orgasm should help you get more comfortable, my sweet. You can count on me.” He keeps offering you sweet words.

He starts moving, with shallow thrusts, taking it easy on your sore body. You breathe deeply through your nose, trying not to focus on the delicious sensations his ridges give you, how wonderfully full you feel with him inside, how right it feels to have your husband like that. A strangled yelp escapes you as he resumes teasing your clit with his hand as he thrusts into you.

“Give me your hand.” He orders softly.

You feel him trail your arm until he reaches your hand and intertwines your fingers together.

He deepens his thrusts, going deeper, slipping out almost entirely leaving just the tip inside and pushes it back in languorously, undulating his hips against yours.

You try so hard to fight back the waves of pleasure, tensing up your muscles under his inquisitive gaze, but he gives you so much, it is so hard to shield yourself completely when he puts so much energy and love in each of his thrusts, forcing you to endure the delight he offers. You feel tears building up behind your eyes.

You hiss as he rocks his hips with a quicker pace, sliding in and out easily thanks to your first orgasm, the waves of pleasure poisoning your veins and nerves ending.

“You are so reactive for someone who refuses pleasure.” He placidly notes, “You can try and hide as much as you want, you cannot lie to me, my love. I know you too well. Your body is an open book to me. Denying it is… useless.” He says, modulating his deep, melodious voice as he knows you prefer.

You shake your head vehemently.

“I experienced your body for years, sweet thing. I know it as well as mine. I studied it carefully, each and every single one of your reactions. I know how to please it, I know how to bring it to the verge of an earth shattering orgasm.”

He is so confident in his capacities to please you, you’ll give him that. He keeps rubbing your clit and you try to escape his sweet touch but he grasps your hips and impales you back on his cock, burying it to the hilt. You whine.

“You will not escape it.” It is as much a promise as it is a threat.

He accelerates his pace again, bullying himself into you without any mercy. Your cunny desperately tries to accommodate his size, clenching pathetically around his girthy shaft.

“Those are the reactions I like.” He says smugly. “Kiss me, cheo Cha’cah.”

He lowers himself to reach your lips but you turn your head away.

“Are you so cold hearted to deny me your lips?”

You grumble and swiftly kiss his cheek.

“Satisfied?” you bare your teeth.

“Thank you. But I hoped for more.”

You purse your lips but let him kiss you, you feel him purring against your mouth. You open your mouth and he enters it with his tongue to dance with yours. He squeezes your hand with his as he deepens the kiss, looming over your body. You growl in the kiss but feel his lips draw in a smile.

So you bite his lips in retaliation.

He licks the little bead of blood away, looking at you with a pleased expression.

“I love when you defy me.” He says lowly, keeping his hard pace, “I love it even more when it is clear you will lose.”

“I am losing nothing!”

“I have the clear memory of making you cum two minutes ago. And you will suffer another defeat in less than three. How does it feel, little rebel? Knowing your greatest efforts go to waste against a superior will.”

“Imperial dog!” You spit.

“Keep that energy up, my love.” He kisses your cheek.

He accentuates his hips action, making you squeal uncontrollably.

“Ca-Careful the baby!” You warn indignant.

“The baby is fine.” He replies with a mocking tone, “In fact, they can sense how good their mother feels. I reckon they must enjoy themself thoroughly with you squirming so desperately under my touch.”

“I… Fuck you!”

He snickers and raises on his knees, forcing your hips up in the air. He digs his fingers in the flesh of your plump hips to keep you in place, doing so he removed all control you had over the action. Now you are truly a victim of his will.

“Such foul language. I better understand Thaishi’s manners.”

He slows down the pace to give a circling motion of his hips to vary the sensations, making sure his girth rubs every sensitive spot in your vagina. You tremble terribly in his hands, like struck by lightning. You bite down your lips terribly to not moan.

To no avail…

“Ah yes, the sweet moans of my muse. It only motivates me to work harder for you.”

He plundges his cock deep, scratching every itch, making you sing against your will. You feel tears rolling on your flushed lips as you try to catch up your breath under such physical exercises.

He leans forward to lick your tears away, the salt tingling on his darted tongue deliciously.

“You are beautiful, my sweet. Crying your pleasure out loud like that.”

Embarrassed, you hide your eyes with one arm, only for him to grip it immediately to take it off.

“No, Cha’cah. You do not get to hide from me.”

“Pl-please finish soon…” You beg.

You have enough of this trial and humiliation, you’re too tired to get this beating. Something snapped in your stomach, begging for him to reach his climax and yours with it.

“Finishing this early? But I feel plenty full of ardor today, I had in mind to keep going for one or two hours more. Just to be sure you orgasmed correctly, I would hate to have you unsatisfied, my love, your enjoyment is my priority.”

You tremble, shaken by spasms, convulsing in pleasure, stiffness reaching all of your limbs as the waves of pleasure incapacitate you as they spread in your veins. You feel your little pussy gaping around his shaft desperately trying to keep him in.

“Okay… You won, I surrender. Please, finish soon..” You say panting, gasping for air at each of his powerful thrust.

“My, my, you are giving up so easily, my dear. But your wish is my command.”

He adjusts his position, and installs a break-necking pace. You’re being pushed against the mattress without mercy and you bite your tongue in the confusion. You cannot help the squeals escaping your pretty mouth while he moans in tandem with your plaints.

Your pussy clenches hard as you come, trying to retain him inside, strangling him just like he loves sending him over the edge. He slows down his pace and comes undone inside.

You’re shaking, crying, getting back from your high as he puts his forehead against yours, caressing your cheek.

“Cha’cah?” He calls in a whisper, “Are you alright?”

You nod, your visage hidden in your hands, catching your breath. He kisses your hands before taking them off your face and pecks your cheek and nose.

“Breath deep, cheo Cha’cah. Easy.”

He holds you tight, cradling your body tenderly.

“There… Breath. Everything is alright.”

You gasp, wiping your tears away.

“Oh Maker…” You whimper.

He brushes his nose with yours, his long hair framing his gorgeous face. 

“Everything is fine, you are with me, my love.” He keeps soothing you. 

A sigh mixed with a gasp escapes you as you feel your heart calming down in your chest. Thrawn keeps kissing your face tenderly, holding your cheek in his warm palm. He slips out of you, leaving you intolerably empty and slides to the side where he takes you in his arms to hold you close. You bury your face in his neck and breathe in his musk to calm down, his hand comes caressing your hair gently, appeasingly. 

“I love you.” He murmurs. 

“I love you too… “ You respond, exhausted. 

“We should bathe.”

“I'm too tired… “ You complain, nudging against him 

“Come on, ch'eo vir. Let me help.”

He rises with 8 months pregnant you in his arms and heads towards the river where he bathes you both conscientiously, laying you against his naked chest, surrounded by fresh water. You doze off, too relaxed to keep your eyes open. 

---------------

You were playing with Thaishi when you heard a familiar sound resonate through the air like a loud bang. Immediately, the sky darkens, the sun disappears and a weird silence takes place in the village, everyone looking up.

You raise your head, gulping, and Thaishi points to the large object in the sky. 

“Mum, what's that?” she asks, as fascinated as she appears terrified.

Massive and large,  the ISD floats over the village like a dark presage, brining death and fire with it.

“This is…” You start, feeling panic rising, “This is…”

The two headed serpent leave no doubt who’s ISD it is.

They’re here for Thrawn!

You pick up Thaishi in your arms precipitaly, making her yelp in surprise and run to your hut, hugging her tight. When you arrive you see Thrawn passing the doorframe in his white uniform, hair cut and black boot unsoiled. 

You almost hit him with your speed, but you stop just in time.

“Thrawn!”

“I know, Cha’cah. Do not worry.”

“But… Where does this uniform come from? Why are they here? Why-”

“I managed to contact them.” He drops the bomb.

You look at him completely dumbfounded, at loss for words.

“What? But… How could you…”

He put his hands on your shoulders to ground you.

“Cha’cah, we are going home.”

You feel like the ground just opened under your feet and would swallow you whole. Your legs give up under you, in shock, but Thrawn catches you and Thaishi expertly.

“(Y/n)! Are you alright?”

“Mom?” Your daughter calls for you in the hands of her father, afraid.

You close your eyes.

You cannot believe it.

The day you feared the most came. You will be separated, torn apart, never to see each other again.

Some villagers came to you when you fell, Thrawn let you in their care, kissing your forehead and heading towards the Chief huts.

When you reopen your eyes, you are in the healer’s hut. You discard the wet fabric she placed on your forehead and go outside.

The ISD is here.

Ominous and threatening.

You reel for some steps before straightening yourself. Here you find Thrawn holding Thaishi, the Chiefs and a woman in an imperial uniform.

Where did he hide this perfectly neat uniform? During all those years he hid it from you, well tidied in a box, awaiting its hour. You suddenly feel a spick of ire in your vein at the sight of that clean white.

Thrawn turns towards you, and a light smile comes lightening his face.

“There she is. Commodore Faro I want you to meet Lady (F/n). My wife.”

Faro slowly bows to you, but something in her eyes displeases you.

She knows who you are.

She doesn’t recognize you as a crew member of Thrawn ships and the only other people present that day were Rebels.

She knows.

She gives a side glance at her Grand Admiral but abstains from any comments.

“Lady (F/n).” She politely but coldly greets.

“Everything is taking care of, Cha’cah.” Thrawn continues, “We will embark everyone on board and exit that planet.”

You turn your head to the chiefs, interrogating them with your eyes.

“We agreed to let your husband temper with the ship if he promised us to take us with you.”

“But.. You’ve been here for a millennia… This is your home… Your planet.”

“We are wanderers at heart, our place is flying through space, not remaining on a single rock.”

You turn back to Thrawn, mouth agape and tears behind the eyes.

“Thrawn… You cannot be serious…”

“Cha’cah.” He cuts you softly, “Our place is not here, our home and duties are away from this planet. It is time for us to go.”

You want to slap him across the face, scream at him, telling him that he will never know the child you bare, that he is killing this family.

“Leave me here with Thaishi.” You just say weakly.

You cannot resume your combat, you cannot fight your husband even if you know you’re in the right, you cannot say goodbye to your children and leave them alone.

“I am not leaving you on this backwater planet, love.” He warns, “We discussed this subject matter and agreed. Thaishi and the baby will be sent to the Ascendancy and live a safe life while we will go back to our responsibilities.”

“How can you say that?” You feel ire rising in your veins.

“We are both warriors. We both know our duties would supplant everything in our life.”

“Thrawn…” You beg.

He caresses your cheek and his thumb swipe one silent tear that rolls on your skin, you sob.

“Those four years have been a blessing. The miracle I stopped hoping for.” He presses his forehead against yours, looking you in the eyes with a sigh, “But the dream must end. It is time now to wake up and advance.”

“Thrawn…” Your voice is no more than a pathetic plea.

“I know, Cha’cah. I will never stop loving you and will cherish those memories I have with you both. But it is time…”

He extends his hand to you with a comforting smile while your image of him gets blurry with tears.

“Come home with me, my love?”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

☆Tag list

[caliburn-not-calculator]

I’m not really sure how unpopular of an opinion this is in the fandom since it’s honestly not discussed a lot, but since it’s mentioned rather often on the pod I’ll go ahead a say it. I don’t like Dani/Davion. It feels remarkably forced. 

Before I get any further, I really don’t want this to come off as shading any one who does like this ship. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it, and there are even a few circumstances where I can see the appeal. Everyone’s allowed to like whatever they want to like. Personally, it’s not my cup of tea, which I’m about to explain why, but if it’s yours, go nuts and have fun. That’s what fandom is for. 

Anyways, I don’t like Dani/ Davion as a couple. It feels very hetero/amatonnormative to me. Oh a guy and a girl are bickering, that must mean they like each other and are secretly pining inside. I’m quite bored of this. Obviously this is a popular troupe for a reason, and I can…*understand* the appeal. I’m just… tired of it. 

What I *can* say is I do like Dani & Davion. As like, frenemies would be the word I guess. They’re very funny. I like that they bring out sides of each other that we don’t really see otherwise. Bad sides, they’re catty bitches and it’s great. I think the dynamic of having two people who constantly, *genuinely!!!* what to rip out the other’s throat, but also, to one degree or another, trust each other is very compelling and entertaining. I genuinely liked the moment in 5.6 when Dani asked Davion to defend Brass because she couldn’t be there. As much as she rags on him, deep down she does actually trust him. 

What I don’t like is when this dynamic is turned fully, cleanly romantic. It feels like it just flattens it down a lot. Perhaps this really is just an issue I’m having because of my particular experience being aroacespec. I find a lot of character dynamics far less interesting when they get cleanly slotted into the “romantic” category instead of all the messy facets and feelings that can exist in nebulous platonic/queerplatonic spaces getting to be explored (This is true of any gender parting btw). 

Rolling with difficulty is a show I enjoy so much largely because of the vast variety of relationships in it. There are so many different relationship smoothies with different amounts of platonic or familial or alterous love blended in. Each of them have distinct tastes even if they have similar ingredients to another paring. None of the platonic bonds are treated as less valuable than the romantic ones, none are treated like they need to turn romantic in order to deepen or obtain true value. (Shoutout to aromantic Kyana and her bestie Ione, I loved their convo in 5.6 too.) 

None of them, I feel… except for Dani & Davion. 

I know really all the Davani teases have been out of character by the players, but I actually think that’s why it bothers me. It’s literally out of character. It’s forced. Organically, without outside forces like players’ out of character preferences (which of course have a place in ttrpg settings, I’m speaking solely from an in universe perspective/preference) I really don’t think either Dani or Davion would ever see the other as a romantic partner. It just doesn’t fit. I could see them growing very close, continuing with the dynamic they currently have— tearing into each other like wild dogs anytime they meet, but under the surface, the trust growing and maybe after a while even respect too. And that’s the dynamic I like. 

I think the TL;DR here is something adjacent to: I’m not a fan of romantic relationships being treated as a better version of platonic ones, and, although in general RWD is very good about not falling into that hole, I feel like to a certain degree Davani (as a romantic relationship) does.

So sorry for the essay, but I’ve kind of been stewing on this for a while and it feels kinda good to get it all out in words. (Reiterating no shade if you like this ship, this is just my personal opinion! :D)

Oh this is very fair, I have to say I agree with you. It was kinda funny but yeah it never felt compelling to me, more like a joke than anything.

You put this incredibly well so I’m not sure I can say much that builds upon other than, yes, I get that.

[corviids]

Since you’re one of the most prolific content creators for Lucemond, and you always answer your asks so eloquently, I was wondering if you could share some insight. When Aemond and Lucerys were first introduced and people latched onto them as a ship, it was easy to see why this pair seemed fated. Mirror images, Shakespearean tragedy vibes, second son syndrome, etc. it’s always been easy to see in both canon universe and the fandom why Aemond is so tied to Luke. He’s obsessed with him for obvious reasons (eye!) and jealous of Luke’s status so it’s easy for fans to make the jump from hatred to obsession to lust to love (be it toxic or wholesome in their headcanons). But the more I think on it, what do you think would draw Luke to feel the same in any regard to Aemond? Aemond is both pretty pathetic in the book and in the show. Authors and artists have their own takes on the two falling for each other mutually because the nature of fanfic and headcanons allow for it. But lowkey I can’t really see Lucerys actually becoming interested in Aemond while vice versa it’s SO easy to see Aemond falling for Luke. Could you give your own insight on why you think either show Luke or book Luke would become interested in Aemond in any sexual/romantic capacity? Asking as someone who is trying to find the logic in this pairing because they trying to take a stab at writing for them. It’s so easy for me to conceptualize reasons why Aemond is obsessed/in love with Luke, but I’m struggling with canon reasons why Luke would be interested in Aemond. Luke has everything Aemond does not making him a giant fixture in Aemond’s desire for glory—while on the other hand Aemond is just some dude who Luke stole as eye from and then never talked to for a decade (at best he’s a rival?). I know this is also difficult to answer because the characterization of book Luke and show luke are so different so seeing the necessary requirements of him falling for Aemond are vastly different too. Thoughts? Basically me asking you to explain to me how/why Lucemond works so well despite my own difficulty in seeing Luke’s interest in Aemond. Thank you!

hmmm i’m trying the best way to articulate this cuz you ask a good question and i wanna give an answer that isn’t just “targaryens horny for each other”

i don’t think luke would be attracted/want aemond for anything he could “give him”. like you said, aemond doesn’t have much to offer beyond his literal self. i think lucemond works specifically because of their unique dynamic which cannot be applied to their other ships. luke, as a person/character, is mostly characterized by his innocent bravery, vulnerability, and insecurity — which aemond is directly linked to a lot of those feelings in luke. personally, lucemond (in writings) only works when there is proper build up to it (so no real insta-love).

to me, luke’s attraction to aemond is an evolution of his fear and dislike of him. given luke’s upbringing and the relationships he’s had as an example, i envision him as being weirdly receptive to,,, non-traditional courtship and behavior. i don’t think he’d go out of his way to initially seek aemond out (i’m a proponent of aemond is down bad to an atrocious degree, as evidenced by his canon obsessive tendencies) but when it’s initiated, he kinda likes it. luke is much more emotionally driven. i don’t think his attraction to aemond would be for rational or even reasons that can be entirely understood and i think that’s the beauty of the ship.

but again it comes down to how you write to that point! this is just a bit of my own thought process when it comes to writing luke. my tldr is that i think luke’s interest in aemond would stem as a response to a mixture of familiarity, fear/caution, as well as thrill. (there’s also the fact that i think luke has “i can fix him” energy. not necessarily optimistic but something that stems from a feeling of never being good enough and needing to prove he can be)