#lots of tags because this post will never get any attention otherwise

[221bshrlocked]

Keep Your Religion

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Jedi AFAB!Reader

Words: 7630

Warnings: 18+ only. Starts off angsty then gets to the smut. Softer than usual Wolffe because that man would be madly in love when he finds his special someone. Lots of Kissing. Possessive Behavior/Words. Dirty/Sweet Talk..but mostly Sweet. Exhibitionism Kink if you like squint! Oral Sex (female receiving). Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Slight Breeding Kink. Wolffe is insatiable yall!

Summary: You try to end things with Wolffe because you fear your relationship will end badly due to the rules set in place for the Jedi and the Clones. Wolffe convinces you otherwise.

A/N: Can you believe I finished another fic? Neither can I. It was about time for another Wolffe fic so here you go my lovely humans. I hope you enjoy. Comments are always always always appreciated so let me know how I'm doing please and thank you. I do apologize that I'm not tagging, it hasn't been working for some reason since post editor changed permanently to this new looking editor. I'll try to figure it out I swear! P.S. this is the second of hopefully many more submissions for @clonexreaderbingo

Something about seeing him so relaxed and loose tugged at the strings of your heart. It was a rare sight, one you thought he would only grace you with when the two of you are alone together. But here he was, throwing back whatever shit drink the bar offered him and his brothers, all the while smiling at Cody’s remark about the new shinies embarrassing themselves in front of Anakin and Obi-Wan. You’re nursing your own drink in the corner, trying to find the best possible way to approach the booth without making a scene. He’d told you before that almost everyone close to him knew of your relationship, but you felt weird about dropping the pretenses. You were his boss, after all. Well, not completely his boss, but a commanding officer regardless. If you started acting extra friendly, you’re not sure how the rest of the Wolfpack would take it. 

As you swirl the spotchka around, you suddenly feel like someone is watching you, hunting you even. There’s only one man who’s ever made you feel so heated and just as you look up from the glass in your hand towards the group of Clones you were previously studying, you notice Wolffe staring you down, the slightest hint of a smirk flashing at you in an attempt to get you to react to his attention. 

Normally, you’d enjoy the subtle flirtatious expressions, even tease him a little to get a rise out of him before escaping to the nearest room to lure him for a private moment. Or, as private a moment as 79’s can offer a Jedi Master and a Commander of the Grand Republic Army. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, you came out to the Clone bar to decide the best way to end things with Wolffe. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you didn’t want to push your luck any further. Things were getting worse by the hour, and you couldn’t afford losing Wolffe all because some assholes in the Senate didn’t think he deserved to love or to be loved by someone. Then there was the matter of the Jedi Council, and how strict they were becoming. It was already frowned upon before the war, and it only took a few months into this galactic conflict for them to push their ideologies even harder on everyone at the Temple. 

You would never forgive yourself if they punished him simply because you couldn’t stand being far away from him any longer. You narrow your eyes at Wolffe and down the rest of your drink, disappointed in yourself for not having the guts to tell him earlier. 

And for knowing that you probably wouldn’t be able to do it tonight. 

The smile on his face drops instantly when he notices you avoiding his gaze, and you curse yourself for ruining his night. It was going so well, and one look at you made the worry return to his mind again. 

Clutching your robes tightly, you pay the bartender quickly before excusing yourself and heading towards the bathrooms in the back. You could feel the tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and the last thing you wished for is for someone to see you and make a huge fuss about it. As you push through the crowd, you feel those same pair of eyes hold you down harshly, as if they were refusing you permission to leave without confronting them. 

Quickly wiping your eyes, you push open the doors and turn around to lock them behind you, only to nearly bump into the chest of the man you were hoping to avoid tonight. You gulp nervously, and before you can say anything, Wolffe tilts his head to the side and studies you closely, his eyes roaming down your body to see if anything needs his immediate attention. 

When he finds nothing out of the ordinary, he takes a step closer to you and shuts the door behind him, not bothering to lock it as he continues to back you up until you hit the wall. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to avoid me.” His gaze is direct, unfaltering in the haze of lust he was sending you under. You furrow your eyebrows and try to look anywhere else but him, but as always, he doesn’t give you the easy way out. Grabbing the bottom of your chin, he turns you until you have no choice but to look straight into his eyes and respond. 

“What if I was?” You’re not sure what pushes you to say something so defensive, but the chuckle it gets out of him makes you realize you had already lost whatever game he was playing with you. 

“I’d say you should have gone to another bar.” He’s right. You know this, and he definitely knows this too. The ease with which he continues to have an effect on you would normally be welcomed, but you’re pissed at him. Pissed for being so weak for him. For not bothering to put up a fight. 

“But here you are…at the one place you knew I was coming to tonight.” Wolffe leans down and nudges your temple with his nose, breathing in the scent of your sweat and perfume, and forcing you to reach for him so you don’t topple over from the sheer amount of control he has on you. 

“So tell me mesh’la, what have I done to deserve the cold shoulder?” He whispers the question in your ear, slowly sliding his hands down your body until they reach your waist. You’re having a difficult time breathing, and you moan his name as you throw your head back when he squeezes your hips and pushes his chest impossibly closer into your own. 

“I- you didn’t…it,” you can’t form a coherent sentence, let alone a sensical thought, when you’re so overwhelmed by his presence alone. You thought he would laugh at you, but when his breathing becomes nearly as erratic as your own, you understand that he was genuinely trying to figure out if he’s done something wrong. His methods seldom changed, and you weren’t surprised that he was trying to get you to talk by touching you as intimately as possible without tearing your clothes off. 

“Don’t tell me I did nothing wrong…sir. Something must have happened, or else you would be begging me to have my way with you right now. So what is it? What have I done?” Wolffe repeats again, making you feel guilty for your behavior and for what you’ve been thinking of doing since the last time you were together. You remind yourself that he deserves someone better, someone who wouldn’t compromise his position in the GAR all because of their messed-up religion. He deserved so much more than you. 

And the mere mention of your rank made it worse.

“W-Wolffe, I umm, I can’t do this anymore.” You know this was the last thing he expected you to say because in the blink of an eye, he’s removing himself from you completely and putting space between your shaking body and his own wound up chest. When you muster up the courage to look into his eyes, a shiver courses down your spine. 

It has been so long since he’s given you such a look, one that was filled with nothing but suspicion and guardedness. He’s quiet for longer than you like, and when you reach for him in an attempt to console him, his frown deepens and he twitches away from you. You hadn’t expected such a reaction to hurt this much, but it does, and like before, you have no control over the stream of tears rolling down your chin. Again, it’s not what he expects to witness from you, certainly not after what you just declared to him, and when you sniffle to get yourself under control, he closes the space between you more aggressively than before, slamming his hands on both sides of your face and clenching his jaws tightly when he sees you pouting at him. 

“I don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t. But I’m sorry regardless. I am so very sorry. Whatever it is, we can talk it out. It’s not worth throwing away all that we have. Please. Just- krifff…tell me what it is I have done, and I will get down on my knees right now and beg for your forgiveness. But don’t do this, don’t give up on us.” In all your time knowing Wolffe, you’ve never once heard him speak with such a tone. He was always assertive, confident and unwavering in his commanding presence. 

But the only thing you could feel now is his fear. 

“You did nothing wrong, it’s me…it’s all me Wolffe.” You know this won’t be enough for him, but you try to convince him regardless. Then he drops his head against your shoulder and you know you won’t be able to hold out much longer. 

“I wasn’t born yesterday sweetheart. If you’ve ever held an ounce of respect for me, you’ll tell me what I did wrong. You owe me that much. I- I deserve to know.” If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was close to breaking down as well. 

“I do Wolffe, I respect you…more than anyone. You have to know that.” You hope he doesn’t turn away when you reach for him again, and as you cup his cheeks in the palms of your hands to raise his attention to you, you’re met with an expression you never thought you’d see on his features. 

“You haven’t done anything baby, it’s me. It’s…all me.” If you were a better person, you would have been consistent in your tone with him, but seeing him so torn down broke you, and you couldn’t not soothe him the way you always did whenever he comes back from a particularly difficult mission. 

“You deserve someone better Wolffe, someone who would never compromise your safety. Being with me is- it’s getting dangerous. The Council is becoming more strict…the Senate even worse. If they court martial you because you’re with me, I- I don’t know what I would do.” There’s something so gut-wrenching about the way he refuses to look away from your moving lips, and when you stop talking, he doesn’t blink once, his cybernetic eye focusing in and out before slowly blinking along with the other.

“Someone better?” It’s clear that he’s still hurt by the word vomit you threw at him, but whereas his voice showed it earlier, the shakiness and reluctance is gone now, replaced with a menacing, almost angry tone that you were too familiar with, one that you’ve witnessed during battle when his orders weren’t obeyed immediately. 

“I can’t give you what you want Wolffe, not without hurting you eventually…unintentionally. My- my religion, it’s becoming a threat to your well-being. It’s not worth the hassle. I am not worth the hassle. You could do so much better than-” Whatever you’re about to say gets lost in the damp air of the room as soon as Wolffe decides he’s heard enough of what was on your mind. He grips your neck tightly, winding his other arm around your back and violently pulling you into his embrace as he swallows your surprised shrieks. Your frown deepens for another moment before you surrender yourself to the possessive kiss, and Wolffe must feel you melting into his arms because he growls against your lips and claims your tongue without remorse. 

His hold on you only grows stronger when he feels your arms move to wrap around his neck, and when he’s sure you’re trying to get closer to him and not push him away, he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, not caring for how messy or aggressive he’s being with you as he shoves his tongue past your lips and reminds you of what you could be missing if you got what you wanted and left him. 

As the need for air becomes difficult to ignore, Wolffe breaks the kiss and gives the two of you a moment of respite. When he opens his eyes and finds your orbs glistening with unshed tears, he swears beneath his breath and lunges for you again, the hand around your throat loosening for a fraction of a second before tightening around your jugular and forcing you to accept his rejection of your wishes. You moan into the kiss, allowing him to take whatever he wants from you, knowing that he wasn’t going to allow you to go through with whatever it is you thought you could get away with tonight. When he’s content with the reactions of your mind and body to his touch, 

“You nearly broke my heart, ner runi. Don’t ever say that to me again!” Wolffe refuses to let go of you, afraid you’d leave the room thinking that he agreed to the sentiment you dropped on him a second ago. When you say nothing in return, he shakes his head and crushes you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in to attempt and calm his nerves. He prays that you give him some form of an answer that confirms your understanding of what he just said, but when you don’t, Wolffe sighs heavily and pulls back enough to take a better look at you. 

“Wolffe, we need to talk ab-” Again, he doesn’t care for what you have to say and cuts you off, letting you know that this was definitely the end of the conversation. 

“No, we’re done talking. You can keep your religion sweetheart, I couldn’t care less for its consequences…but don’t you fucking dare and ask me to abandon mine.” His voice is firm, the familiar unyielding articulation confirming to you that he’s already made up his mind on the matter. There would be no more on the matter. 

As much as you hate to admit it, it feels like a bantha has lifted one of its feet off your chest. You look into his eyes and find them filled with a more familiar emotion, one that kept you going ever since you confessed your feelings to him. You thought it would be difficult to get him to accept your proposition, but you realize then and there that it was definitely harder for you to come to terms with your initial thoughts. 

You slowly smile at him, and it must be what Wolffe needs to hear to forget the last few minutes because his touches become less crazed and more soothing, a level of intimacy you’re always yearning for when the two of you are away from each other for too long. 

“And what...what is your religion?” You barely find the attention span to ask, the familiarity of his touch and his voice sending you down a spiral of lust-filled thoughts that only increased the longer Wolffe remained in your presence. 

“Your body is my religion cyar’ika, and I’m not planning on losing my faith any time soon.” The confession is lewd, mostly because he’s using your weakness to drive the message home. But as dirty as the admission sounded on his lips, you couldn’t help but sink into his embrace, wanting to hear more of him so you could forget about why you were here in the first place. 

“Is that s-so?” You’re practically shaking in his arms, and Wolffe uses your momentary distraction to tug your robes apart and leave a trail of kisses down your neck to where he wanted to bite you most. 

“Yeah,” he licks at your skin, wishing with all his heart he could have you right then and there. It’s not as if the two of you haven’t fucked at 79’s before. He just knew that you both needed something more, something that he can only accomplish in the privacy of his rooms. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to excuse myself for the night, tell the boys I have to finish reports for the General.” He slips a hand underneath the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your waist until you slowly begin to roll your hips into him. 

“Ahuh,” you’re not really paying attention to what he’s saying, your body already frozen with anticipation now that it felt his hands and his tongue leaving marks across it again. 

“Focus,” he squeezes your ass, shaking it twice to get you to open your eyes and look past the haze to obey his next commands. 

“Yes sir.” You bite into your lip and giggle when he narrows his eyes at you and mumbles something about punishing you for being a tease. 

“You’re going to leave shortly after, something about being needed back at the Temple.” Your stomach twists in knots when you realize he’s using his ‘Commander’ voice on you, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and mold your lips with his own when you remember the last time he used that same tone on you. 

What a night it was. 

“And where w-will I actually be going?” You ask as soon as Wolffe pulls you away and breaks the kiss. 

“My room baby, where you’ll stay for the rest of the night.” He says matter of factly, as if you shouldn’t even be asking his such a question. 

“Pray tell, Commander. What will we be doing that- oh kriff, that will require me to spend the night in your quarters?” You throw your head back when his hand slithers up your body and cups your breast through your Jedi robes. You can almost feel the heat radiating off the palm of his hand, and the harder he gropes you through your clothes, the more you wish he would just push you down on all fours and fuck you into oblivion. 

“Well, I don’t know about you sweetheart, but I’ll be practicing my faith...and worshiping every inch of your body until the only thing you can feel is me.” The smirk on his face would be menacing if you weren’t so used to it by now, and you gasp lightly when he leans down and bites the skin of your shoulder peeking from beneath your cloak. 

“Oh gods-”

“That’s it, moan for me cyar’ika. I want the whole fucking bar to know who makes you feel good.” Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and pushes his leg in between, slowly moving you back and forth on him to give you a preview of what’s to come tonight. 

“Wolffe, please. I need you.” You fall forward against his chest, whining for him as he continues to move you across his thigh and dares you to come from such a simple touch. 

“Oh, now you need me?” You know he’s joking without looking at him, but the question throws you off guard and you snap your gaze up to see if he was hurt by what you said previously. 

“I- I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

“None of that.” Wolffe shakes his head, not wanting to ruin the moment by something so trivial. He slows down his touches but keeps you moving on him, hoping to distract you long enough to make this night a little better for the both of you. 

“Wolffe,” you call for him again, not in warning but in desperation, hoping that he can see how sorry you are for ever doubting what the two of you had. 

“That was cruel of me, forgive me sweetheart.” His voice is soft, so much sweeter than before, and you’re reminded by how quickly his mood changes whenever he senses you’re upset or angry. 

“How could you ask that when I am the one who hurt you?” You should drop it, everything that he’s done is proof that you should let this go and get back to more important matters, but you can’t stop yourself from asking him, wanting to know why he’s always so patient and caring with you when he was the one who deserved better. 

“You didn’t hurt me, cyare.”

“I did, I- I almost…”

“You could never hurt me, little one. Never.” Like before, he doesn’t care for whatever you have to say, not because he doesn’t value your words, but because he knows how difficult your relationship with him probably weighs on your mind. 

Even from the beginning. 

You study him for what feels like hours but is probably only seconds. And you wonder how anyone could ever think him cruel and rude when he was so loving and unbelievably long-suffering. Without warning, you throw yourself at him, mirroring his actions from before and shoving your mouth against his own to feel grounded. He doesn’t waste a second, pushing you harder against the wall and sucking on your tongue until you were a moaning mess in his embrace. 

“F-fuck, if you keep that up, I won’t- kriff, I won’t hold back.” Wolffe rests his forehead against yours, trying to keep himself in check so he doesn’t end up embarrassing the two of you by what his body is willing to do. 

“Then don’t!”

“You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone can walk in and see you getting filled with my cock?” He shouldn’t be surprised by how wanton you are, and although he knows he should step away and put some space between you and him, he can’t help but retort with his own teasing comment. 

“Please Commander.” You lean up and kiss his jugular, nipping at the skin just above his armor and soothing it with another kiss before laying your head back and meeting his intense gaze. 

“Always playing dirty. Just for that, you’ll have to wait.” Wolffe clears his throat and eyes you up and down before taking a few steps back. He barely manages to hold back from laughing when you stumble forward and nearly lose your footing. You’re about to complain when he raises a hand and silences you, furrowing his eyebrows at you in an attempt to look intimidating. 

“Another word, and I won’t give you my cock tonight.” He warns calmly, smirking immediately when you shake your head and tell him you’ll be good.

“No please, I’ll stop. I’ll behave, I swear.” 

“You’ll behave-?” The question trails until the room is silent again and you know instantly what you said wrong. 

“Commander.” You whisper to him as you try to fix your clothes and hair so you don’t look like you were fucked against a wall by the Commander of the 104th Battalion. You don’t dare smile at him, afraid he’d misunderstand the gesture for another one of your teasing expressions and completely throw the night away. 

“Good girl, now do as you’re told and I promise to reward you.” He watches you saunter past him and before you unlock the door, he smacks your ass quite harshly, watching you closely to see if you were going to behave or retort like you usually do. 

“Yes, sir.” You don’t dare give into his tricks, hoping to get through the next hour or so without getting distracted, or worse…caught. 

“Off you go.” He gestures for you to leave before him, and when you’re no longer in sight, he shuts his eyes and sighs in relief. Wolffe is not sure how the two of you got to where you are now, but considering the fact that he expected something like this to happen since you got together, he’s relieved that it was for reasons different from what his mind conjured up all those nights he spent alone in his bed. 

You walk out and move towards the bar again, your eyes roaming across the busy bar and waiting until Wolffe walks out before you make sure that no one noticed the two of you together. He follows you soon after, finding you almost instantly and winking at you before he heads towards his men. You watch as he tells Sinker to give him his helmet, and you assume they all roll their eyes not a second later because he told them he needed to get some paperwork done. 

But as soon as Cody looks at you, he knows what Wolffe is planning on doing, and before you can turn away from him, he raises his glass and smiles at you before downing the rest of his drink. You should be embarrassed at being seen, but something about the way the Commander gestures at you makes you smile, as if he was telling you that he hoped the two of you are okay. You shake your head at him and throw your hood up, walking to the Commander of the 21st Nova Corps to let him know you’ll be leaving earlier tonight. 

“Ah General, I was wondering when you’ll be joining us.” You smile at Commander Bacara and the boys, giving them a few credits to let them know the next two rounds were on you. 

“Sorry Bacara, I’m calling it early tonight. Needed back at the Temple!” You feel bad for lying to him, but as always, he doesn’t ask for an elaboration, telling you that he hopes you don’t have to do too much paperwork while you’re still on break. 

“See you later,” you nod at him and the others when they salute you, and just as you walk out of the bar, you vaguely hear them yell for the droid making its rounds to get them a round of quanya. 

“Hmm, didn’t peg them for the type.” You mutter to yourself as you step out into the chilly Coruscant air, looking around to see if Wolffe was anywhere to be seen or if he has already left. When you don’t sense his Force signature nearby, you make your way towards the speeder bike Anakin lent you and bring it to life, trying your best to contain yourself so you wouldn’t be caught by another Jedi nearby. 

You make your way through the streets as quickly as possible, and when you make it to the Temple, you park the bike nearby and think of the best way to make it through the barracks without being seen by any of the Masters…or Commanders. 

It’s not the first time you entered the barracks, and under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be strange to see a Jedi making their way through the hallways. But it was nearly midnight, and you weren’t sure you could lie your way through a question if you were caught before you made it to Wolffe’s quarters. You’re about to reach out to the Force to see if anyone is awake when you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. The familiarity of its warmness sets your mind at ease, and you take a deep breath before you turn to face him. 

“Commander.”

“General, is there something I can help you with?” He’s putting on a show for the surveillance cameras, and you clear your throat before you tell him something about wanting to review the plans for the next mission. 

“Very well,” he’s curt in his response, and you get the sense that he may be avoidant because he has about as much control around you as you do whenever you so much as hear the mention of his name. 

“Thank you, Commander Wolffe.” He nearly falters in his steps at hearing you call his name, and he swears beneath his breath as a way of warning. You nearly smile at his reaction, but you remember how closely the guards watch the cameras and you choose to switch your attention to the ground. Not another word passes between the two of you, and as you reach his room, you feel your heart threaten to leap out of your chest at the prospect of finally spending a night with him. 

Up until now, the two of you had to make do with stolen moments and short breaks, whether on missions or back here. Neither of you have ever spent the night alone, and you find it fitting that tonight would be it. It’s comforting and nerve-wrecking all at once, and as soon as you step into his quarters, you allow yourself to take in the calm before the storm. 

Before the door slides completely shut, Wolffe is on you like a moth to a flame, nearly ripping your clothes off of your body as he pushes you down onto his bed. 

“W-Wolffe, I-” You try to ask him why he’s so frantic and crazed all of a sudden but he lets go of you and stands to his height, making quick work of his armor in record time all the while keeping you still with the mere look in his eyes. 

“I can’t do slow tonight, can’t wait another fucking second without having you.” You always admired how much care he puts into his armor whenever he’s taking it off or putting it back on, so seeing him drop each pass to the ground sends a zap of lightning down your spine. 

You mirror his actions without another word, throwing your boots and socks away before struggling to take your pants off. Moments later, you feel the bed dip once Wolffe crawls towards you, his muscles flexing in such a menacing way that makes you fall back into the sheets and wait for him to tell you what to do next. 

But then he says nothing, and you’re torn between asking him what he needs from you and letting you do whatever the fuck he wants. He reaches for the edge of your pants and tugs them right down your legs, not once blinking as he violently takes your sweater off and throws it somewhere behind him. You’re left in nothing but your undergarments, and as you twist your arms to take your bra off, Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and makes space for himself in between. 

“I need you, now.” His voice should terrify you, it should be enough of a warning for what he has in store for you. But you find it exhilarating, knowing that only you could get him to lose this much control. You try to reach for him, wanting to feel his skin beneath the tips of your fingers, but Wolffe shakes his head and grabs both of your wrists in one hand, slamming them above your head and tightening the hold he has on them while he slithers his other hand down your nude body. 

“If it were up to me mesh’la, I’d tie you to this fucking bed and have my way with you whenever I want. I’d- kriff, I’d fill you with my cum every minute of every fucking day…so everyone would know you’re mine…so they know that I’m yours.” He teases you through your panties, rubbing lazy circles across the damp spot quickly becoming larger. 

“Wolffe, please…take me.” You whine his name in desperation, hoping he’d finally give you his cock and end your misery. 

“I swear to the maker sweet girl, I’m going to fuck you all night long…kiss every inch of you, mark you with my teeth and hands until you’re my very own altar. I’m going to worship you baby, but only if you promise me one thing.” Wolffe slips his fingers beneath the flimsy material of your panties, rubbing at your clit furiously to get you to focus on him and him only. 

“A-anything…anything Commander.” You turn to the side and kiss his forearm, hoping he’d see how willing you are to do whatever he asks of you. 

“Pray for me.” As you look bite into his skin, Wolffe pushes his hard dick into your cunt, not bothering to give you a moment to get used to being so full before he starts fucking into you with sharp thrusts. You’re screaming his name instantly, arching your back from the sheer amount of pain and pleasure he was bringing upon you so quickly. 

“FUck, there we go…such a good fucking girl for me, screaming my name so sweetly. Go on ner Jetii’ika, tell everyone who fucks you like the perfect cockdumb whore you are.” He leans down and bites the top of your breasts, letting go of your wrists for a brief second so he can rip the last bit of clothing shielding you from his hungry eyes. 

“Wolffe…f-ffuck, oh gods…Wolffe!” You twist your fingers into his bed sheets, crossing your legs behind his back and whining for him when he descends down on you and sucks on your nipple. His hand seeks out your own, and when he intertwines his fingers with yours, he grunts and growls against your skin, reaching for the other breast and groping you harshly until the only thing you can feel is his tongue, and his hands, and his cock wreaking havoc on you. 

Wolffe knows he should slow down, perhaps be a little less demanding with you. But something about seeing you in his bed when everyone else is asleep makes him more possessive, more needy with your body. And it didn’t help how you were reacting to his advances, how completely you surrendered your body to him without so much as a question. He opens his eyes and roams them over your already bruising skin, and when he finds you wanting for more, he increases his pace and fucks you until you couldn’t even breathe out his name. 

You sense his gaze on you, and as you look through heavy-lidded eyes, you find him completely focused on your dazed expression. 

“Wolffe, I- I love you.” You’re not sure what makes you say those words now, but a voice in your heart told you this was the right moment. You’ve spoken before about what this thing between the two of you was, and you knew, as well as he, that this would be it. There would be no one else, not for him, and definitely not for you. 

But you’ve never actually said those words out loud. You’ve said it in the way you kissed him, in the way you gave yourself to him…and Wolffe had pretty much conveyed them to you with every stolen glance and every quick touch he managed to sneak when the two of you passed each other on the General’s ship. 

Like before, Wolffe hasn’t expected to hear you part with such a confession, now of all times. He falters in his pace for a brief moment before he sinks his cock into you and stills completely, wanting to be as close and connected with you as possible when he finally said what he’s felt for you since you introduced yourself to him. 

“Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum…cyare.” You let out a quiet sob at the intimacy of the moment, and Wolffe wraps his arms around your neck and your waist to feel you against every bit of his skin. His thrusts are shallow, barely leaving you empty out of fear of losing this moment. You throw your arms around his neck and bring him flush against you, crying for him one last time as he seals your lips with his own and sinks into your wet cunt. 

The world comes to a halt around you, and all you can feel is Wolffe’s lips claiming your mouth just as he fills you with his seed. You come with him, shaking softly in his arms as his hot cum shoots into you and coats your walls with proof of his need to mark every fucking inch of you. It’s too much and not enough, and you push your heels into his ass in an attempt to bring him even closer to you. It’s not possible, you know that, but you want nothing more than to have him sink into your body until you weren’t sure where he ended and you began. 

Wolffe is fighting for his life, torn between giving you a second to breathe and quite literally stealing your breath to fill his lungs with your essence. He parts for a brief moment and looks at you, kissing your eyes softly before shoving his lips against yours again. You don’t dare ask him to give you a moment of respite, mostly because you’re sure you would miss him if he were to put space between your skin and his lips. 

Suddenly, the world turns around and you break the kiss unintentionally, gasping in surprise when he turns the two of you around until he’s laying on his back and you on top of him. You smile against his jaw when you feel his hands slide down your back and grab at your ass. As he starts moving your hips back and forth, you nuzzle into his neck and breathe in his scent, licking and kissing his skin the more he fucks his cum deep into your cunt. 

“W-Wolffe…”

“I’m not done with you yet, ner kar’ta.” The promise is both teasing and terrifying, but you can’t find it in yourself to hesitate, not when he was promising you the stars all night long. 

And he does, he brings you the heavens until you can no longer breathe without tasting the cosmos on your tongue. With every touch of his fingers, you beg him for more…more of his sweet words, more of his sinful kisses, more of his needy cock.

He fucks you until you lose your voice, and when he’s sure he’s rung your body of every ounce of pleasure it can offer him, he fucks you some more, filling your pussy until you were nothing but a mess, a mixture of his seed and your juices.

And then he pushes you down and parts your thighs to pull you apart with his tongue, and you feel that familiar heat rise in your chest all over again. You tug on his hair, torn between urging him to make you cum again and pleading for him to stop because you could no longer stand the pleasure. You were so sensitive, and Wolffe knew very well how painful the ecstasy was becoming, but some twisted part of him wanted to mark your cunt with his teeth and tongue as well. He wanted to devour you, body and soul. Your release comes in the form of a silent cry, and Wolffe laps up your mixed cum until you can’t take it anymore, softly pushing his shoulders away so he can slow down.

There is a lazy smile on your features, one that deepens further when you see Wolffe crawling on top of you and leaving a trail of wet kisses across your sweaty skin.

“Satisfied?” He dares to ask, lightly pinching your nipples when you don’t respond right away. You giggle at the touch, pulling him closer to you so he can kiss you some more. He melts into your body, roaming his hands across the tired muscles until he has no choice but to fall beside you.

You hum in response, studying his relaxed expression and laying the softest of kisses on his forehead before pulling him into your neck. Neither of you say anything, and only when your breathing steadies does Wolffe pull away to make sure you’re comfortable and asleep.

He sits up on his elbows and takes in his handiwork, biting his lower lip when he sees the bruises already forming all over your body. The contentment falters for a split second, but his worries evaporate when you sleepily reach for him and bring him back into your arms. He mutters his love for you one last time before surrendering to the comfort of your embrace, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as he rests his cheek on your shoulder. 

It’s hours later when you wake, and you groan tiredly when the sunbeams hit your eyes and make it difficult to escape them. You turn to the other side and peek through your lashes, only to find Wolffe already wide awake, softly touching the length of your arm with his lips and nose, as if he was tracing every little mark he left on your body from last night. He looks up when he notices your breaths coming in erratically, winking at you and smirking at the sudden spirit of shyness falling over your tired form. 

“I can taste the sunlight on your skin.” He moans against your clavicle, lightly nipping at the skin over the bone when you turn away from him and hide beneath the sheets. 

“Hmm…such a smooth talker.” You groan from underneath the shield you’ve created, giggling like a little girl when Wolffe tugs them away and attacks your face with playful nips and kisses. 

“Only for you cyar’ika.” He whispers into your ear before biting at the space just below it, his touches becoming less playful and more needy as he takes in the way your body is reacting to his advances. 

“Wolffe, your lips feel so good.” You throw your head back and sink your nails into the muscles on his back, gasping for air the longer Wolffe continues to mark you up. It’s almost as if he was looking for spots on your skin he hasn’t left his bite marks or fingerprints on. Not that you were complaining. 

“Just my lips, General?” You can hear the smile on his handsome face, and you nearly push back to edge him on, but you realize it would serve you better to give into him and tell him what he wants to hear. 

“N-no, it’s everything you do to me Wolffe. It’s in your touch…your- your voice…your cock.”

“My little Jedi can’t get enough of me.” He shifts you in his arms until you’re laying on your stomach, and when you try to look back to see what he has in mind, he combs his finger into your hair and pushes you into the pillows until he has access to your back. When he hears whine his name, he descends down on you like a crazed man, sinking his teeth into the skin he wasn’t able to reach last night while pulling on your hair to remind you who was in charge. 

“Oh gods…never, Wolffe. Never. I want you all the kriffing time, even now…I just want you to- to,” you forget what you want to say, the need to commit this moment to memory outweighing whatever information your mind wanted to part with. It must be the reaction Wolffe was wanting for because he chuckles against your heated skin and finishes your thought for you. 

“Claim you?”

“Please.” You try to push the sheets away from you so you can feel him against your back, and Wolffe lets go of you for a split second to let you do whatever you wish, returning flush against you once you’re completely nude to his eyes. He’s on you in the blink of an eye, teasing you with the head of his hard cock while keeping a firm hold on your hips so you don’t move against him.

“Can’t really do that now, can I mesh’la?” He struggles through his words, his hungry eyes picturing all the things he still wants to do to you as you lay there beneath him, willingly submitting your entire self to him without a second thought. 

“You’re already mine, little Jedi. You’re mine, have been since you came here all those months ago and told me you wanted me.” He massages your back with his calloused hands, trying to come to terms with the fact that he will never be close enough to you. He’ll never get tired of this. He’ll never not want to touch you with everything he’s got. 

“But since you plead so sweetly,” you moan into the sheets as you feel him part your thighs and slowly sink his cock into your swollen cunt, keeping you filled to the brim and refusing to move until you begged some more. 

“Wolffe...” You reach back and tug on his hair to bring him closer to you, the need to hear what you do to him igniting a flame in your chest, one that only he could put out by showing you how much he craves you. 

“F-ffuck, you’ve ruined the mornings for me cyare. Now I- I won’t stop thinking of your wet, tight pussy when I…kriff, when I wake up.” Wolffe bites into your shoulder as he rolls his hips into you, no longer able to control his desires from you. He wanted you to know the effect you have on him, the hold you had on his very soul ever since you walked onto his ship and offered your aid all those months ago. 

“I’m yours Commander, always. Y-you can have me whenever you want.” You sigh heavily when he growls against your skin and continues to fuck into you without caring for how rough he’s being. 

“E-even at sunrise, General?” Wolffe chuckles as soon as your cunt clenches tightly around him at the mention of the honorific, letting you know that he enjoys calling you by your rank as much as he does when you moan his. 

“Especially at sunrise-” You barely manage to breathe out, smiling through the assault he was bringing on your body as you surrender yourself completely to him.

“My little tracinya,” Wolffe nuzzles into the crook of your neck, content with the way you seem to melt the harder he fills you with his cock. A part of him knows he should maybe discuss the incident from last night, but he finds it difficult to pay any mind to your words when he already has you so willing and wanting beneath him. 

Later, he would consider the little issue of your religion later. 

But for now, he was adamant on showing you his own.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: starryeyedjanai! @starryeyedjanai has 74 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and 60 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@steddieas-shegoes recommends the following works by @starryeyedjanai:

All things end and all things change.

what lurks beneath

nights like this

if i could hold you for a minute (i’d go through it again)

"Janai is one of those authors that can make absolutely anything hot. I could sit and talk for hours about how they characterize Steve and Eddie. I absolutely love everything they write and always make it a priority to open the AO3 email when the notification comes in!" -- @steddieas-shegoes

Below the cut, @starryeyedjanai answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

These two burrowed their way into my brain and just won’t leave. I can’t not write them when I am thinking about them literally all the time and am brimming with new ways for them to fall in love.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m kind of a sucker for steddie talking via notes, letters, etc. before they ever meet in person. There’s just something so special about them falling in love in unconventional ways before they ever meet in person that hits the spot, you know? I also just really love all the creative AUs that people come up with that I never would have thought of writing.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I love writing anything that has friends to lovers and especially if they are so, so stupid about it. Idiot4idiot my beloved. friends/acquaintances to lovers is So fun to explore because there are a million ways to do it. I love a good oh moment where things just click into place.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

It is So hard to pick just one!!! So i’ll list a few: One that I have reread a few times that I just really, really love is All I Do Is Want by novemberthorne. There’s just something really special about it—all the emotion in the beginning and then the smut which is just top tier. like a sack of bricks and literally anything by alligator_writes is great off the beaten path by pukner is also really, really great

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I have a fic idea that I've been thinking about for a while that involves alternate universes, like the metaverse, because if the Upside Down exists, there are probably other dimensions as well.

What is your writing process like?

It is honestly so variable. For the majority of my ficlets, I get an idea and just start hacking away at it intermittently until it’s done, so it’s safe to say that at any given time, I have like eight ficlets that are partially written. I never used to outline because I didn’t really write fics longer than around 5k, but since I’ve started writing longer fics, it is almost necessary for me to have an outline that hits all the major plot points because otherwise I will forget what I have planned. So for anything that I know will be longer than a ficlet, I’ll write out an outline, even just a few bullet points so that I can reference it when I’m writing and not lose sight of where the story is going. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I use way too many em-dashes and my sentences are sometimes comically long, but the way I write is indicative of how fast my brain is moving, kind of. I typically headcanon Steve and Eddie to both have ADHD, so any fics in their points of view will have their thoughts coming out as fast as my own typically are. And sentence length and structure can really help convey that.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I prefer posting once I’ve finished writing because my focus shifts around a lot and it sometimes takes a while for me to actually finish projects (like i had a fic that sat at 16k for months as I worked on other things that caught my attention and then I finally returned to finish the last couple thousand words six or so months later)

Which fic are you most proud of?

I am proud of all of my fics, but I really, really love how All things end and all things change. turned out. Some fics just come together so easily and this was one of them. I outlined the fic and let the idea marinate for a couple months and then I wrote ~20k in about a week and finished the fic.

How did you get the idea for All things end and all things change.?

This fic was for a holiday server exchange so my giftee gave me three prompts and I found ways to incorporate all of the prompts. I saw the prompt for mutual pining roommates and immediately knew I was going to write Eddie taking Steve home to Wayne over the holidays. I originally only planned on using that prompt, but the prompt for a snowy cabin getaway really called to me as I got further along in the fic and needed more tension between them. It was just a really excellent set of prompts.

When writing All things end and all things change., what was something you didn’t expect?

I did not expect it to get so long! My original estimate was 10k, but then I kept adding more to Wayne and Eddie showing Steve how special Christmas could be with people who care about him and then I added the cabin scene which added an easy 5k to the fic and then I was staring at what was, at that time, my longest complete fic. Wild.

What inspired what lurks beneath?

This honestly came out of left field for me because I had only ever written one other fic like it. I was doing kinktober for the first time and had a few different ideas for the prompt for that day and then I saw that the date of that prompt was Joey (@matchingbatebites)’s birthday and remembered her lake monster Eddie ficlet and instantly knew I wanted to explore a different version of lake monster Eddie.

What was your favorite part to write from if i could hold you for a minute (i’d go through it again)?

I really, really loved writing the flashes into the future at the end of the fic. Throughout the fic, there was some yearning and pining from afar and getting to write that everything works out in the end was cathartic.

How do/did you feel writing if i could hold you for a minute (i’d go through it again)?

Oh boy, this fic put me through the ringer. This was written for the steddie big bang and it was the first longer fic that I was attempting to write. I just had so many different ideas for this fic that it made it hard to choose the direction I wanted to go in. I probably have like an additional 20k words that just did not end up in the fic because it contradicted things that did end up in the fic or just didn’t fit with the vibe I was going for. There were times that I felt discouraged and felt like I might never finish it, but I am very pleased with how it turned out in the end! It was extremely rewarding to finally finish it and get it posted in February!

What was the most difficult part of writing nights like this?

Honestly, I don’t remember this one giving me any trouble at all. Once I got the idea in my brain, I think I sat down and wrote all 2.5k in a day. I do not know what my brain was doing during kinktober, but I think I ended up writing like over 60k that month and it was the only time that I’ve ever really been able to sit down and write a ficlet from start to finish like that and it happened with multiple of the ficlets that I ended up writing the day before they were published.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I really love the lead up to the smut in my fic catch the embers on my tongue. Like eddie being a little self-deprecating and in awe that steve might feel the same way he does was so fun to write. Also the summary for surface level freak is probably one of my favorite things i’ve written.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Some of the projects I’m working on right now are things I can’t really talk about, but look forward to fics from me in the Steddie Summer Exchange, the Steddie Bang 2024, and the ST Sapphic Mini Bang!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Whoever nominated me, I am kissing you full on the mouth with tongue (if you’re into that kind of thing)

Thank you to our author, @starryeyedjanai, and our nominator, @steddieas-shegoes! See more of starryeyedjanai's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[inkyycapp]

how i think characters would react

if you got (very) hurt: adventure time edition.

tw/cw : angst, fluff, blood, violence, gore?, terrible story building, implied romance, fionna and cake spoilers, a lot of cringe, self-indulgence, character hcs, etc...

[a/n: this is very sloppy and rush as i made this between classes so it's half edited half not and not at all proof read. forgive me. thank you for the love on my last posts!! i wasn't expecting my adventure time hcs to get the attention it did, thank you so much!! i have finished fionna and cake(twice) so, my hcs might slightly shift a bit. at the moment. thinking of cross posting on ao3. reader is usually always gender neutral in all my posts unless stated otherwise. that's all! i'm open to requests and my dms/pms are open. thank you! new additions as well!! this is all i have, i'm sorry. a few more are in the drafts. please tell me if i missed anything tag and cw/tw wise! thank you.]

[holy shit, fionna and cake's finn. honka honka. i don't deserve a platform.]

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

|| it all happened so fast. you could barely recall what happened. one moment you're up-right, after the next you're trying to pick yourself off the ground. your breathing grew more labored at every attempt, and the smell of iron hung heavy in the air. the warm liquid on your hands was a stark contrast to cold that began to wrack your body. it wasn't long 'til your vision faded to black, leaving only questions behind into your last fleeting thoughts. ||

finn.

(the favorite. my favorite.)

-the both of you were exploring an old cave. deep, dark, and damp. it was said to hold treasure far back into the cave, and out of curiosity you both went to explore. what you didn't know was that many people sought out that treasure. many dangerous people.

-going deeper into the cave, you and finn found the treasure, though nothing cool to take back except for a few cool rings. turning on your way out, with your back to the entrance, a sharp pain was felt through your body. looking down you saw the bloodied blade of a sword. you had no time to react as you were shoved off the blade and onto the ground. from there, it was a blur.

-finn would (violently) remove anyone involved. while brutal, he makes sure to end it quick--he doesn't have time for them when you're bleeding out on the ground.

-finn never stopped talking to you, even if you're asleep. it's always optimistic-- he talks about; new things he's found, friends he talked to recently, any new news, old and new stories, the next date he'll take you on, etc... he rambled hours on end in a one-sided conversation. it's how he copes.

-finn's trying to be uplifting. but, by himself he's a mess. he rarely stays at the treehouse because he's too restless. he feels weak, and unable to do anything. when finn's not at your side he's fighting through his feelings. finn had learned it wasn't healthy to use violence as his only outlet, but it makes him feel something that isn't the heavy stone in his chest when he sees you.

-he's a patient man, he knows you'll wake up soon. he just had to be patient. but after around a few days he doesn't want to be "patient" anymore. he wants you to wake up now. finn knows he can't make that happen, but it was a selfish want to keep himself going.

-when you did wake up, he was all over you. there wasn't a time when he wasn't with you, or at least in the same vicinity as you.

-good luck trying to pry yourself away from his arms. this man has fought monsters thrice his size for fun. even your prettiest please wasn't going to work, not this time. you almost died. you could've died and he couldn't do anything about it. those memories never left his brain basket, even when your recovery was going smoothly.

-very anxious about letting you tag along, but knows you'll probably go off on your own if he refuses to take you along. he feels it's safer to allow you to come along, rather than go off on your own. with him, he knows that at least this time he could do better. he won't ever have a repeat of last time.

-finn keeps you close during each adventure, even losing sleep watching the surroundings to be sure no one sneaks up on you. he will refuse to sleep, so you'd have to force him. please give this man all the reassurance, he really needs it. it won't stop his anxiety, or his fear of it happening again, but it puts him at ease. even if it's just a little bit, it helps, nonetheless.

-

fern.

-the green knight has plenty of enemies. of course, fern could protect himself, and you could do the same. however, even if you could protect yourself, there wasn't any chance to protect yourself getting jumped, and a dirty stab to the back. the most dishonorable way to lose to a foe. the amount of ever growing disrespect.

-he loses his shit. sure, he gets mad quickly, but if you were awake to see him like this: holy shit. he grows plentiful thorns, and poison flowers all over himself subconsciously. (he's actually very pretty like this.)

-he's livid, and you're not conscious to do anything about it. and that's just it, you're unconscious, bleeding out on the ground. fern couldn't quite process it just yet. normally you'd stop him from going too far, but you can't right now. that's supposed to never happen. he's confused and angry, and you're not waking up. you're not moving. so, he cuts down anyone involved in a quick motion. he doesn't care how brutal, as long as it's quick. fern wastes no time in picking you up (after managing the thorns and flowers) and taking you to doctor princess.

-fern can't stand seeing you like this. laying weakly on that hospital bed.

-if you think finn's not good at coping, fern is much worse. he doesn't even cope. he's just...there.

-he's so confused, and just shuts down a bit. like he's still there, he's still the green knight-- fern. but, he's just distant. not quite himself-- off.

-fern is unable to wrap his head around what happened to you, but he goes about his 'normal' life. he tries to just go about his casual life without you there, and he's just confused. it doesn't take long before he grows upset, allowing the rage to boil.

-'they used to do that.' 'this was their favorite color.' 'they were supposed to fix that.' 'they like bird houses.' everything reminds him of you. it's impossible to go a single day without a reminder that you're still unconscious.

-i think it gets more apparent when he's out and about as the green knight. he's more violent. but, he doesn't mean to be. it just...happens.

-he's likely not there when you first wake, but when he gets there fern's complaining about everything under his breath. but when he sees you up, that bed isn't just for you anymore.

-he's holding you close, with a firm hold and refusing to let go. he's scolding you for not waking up sooner, and complaining about how life without you was too different. he tried to be casual, but he missed you a bit too much.

-there is also no prying fern off of you-- a common thing between all of them. once you're up, there is no separating you both for a few hours at the least.

-fern is also hesitant about letting you rejoin him on the adventures, but as long as you stay close, and keep weapon on you at all times, he'll agree. but, all of your wounds-- every. single. one.-- had to be medically evaluated as ok, and no threat to your health before anything.

-

farmworld!finn.

(post crown -- pre fionna and cake.)

-he's in shock, not moving for a few moments. he knew why he'd be hated, or hunted down, killed even, but why you? why did they have to drag you into this?

-someone in the many gangs around the parts found you somewhere in the clearing waiting for finn. you both had previously planned a picnic out in a nice clearing in the woods. he was running late. but, once he found you bleeding out and onto grass, he's thrown way off guard.

-finn is quickly trying to pick you off the grass, trying to get you out of there, and dragging you back to his cabin. finn manages to tend to each of your wounds. though, the moment he's done, and you're in a stable condition-- he's leaving the cabin for a few hours.

-he finds whoever did this to you, and doing what he couldn't earlier. finn is driving in the same injuries they gave to you over and over again. he doesn't let up until he's in tears. finn knows that this changes nothing. he knows this won't make him feel better, but he needed to do something. anything. even if it's for his own sadistic pleasure to see the regret on their faces-- to see them like this. pathetically clawing at the dirt in an attempt to ground themselves through the pain-- trying to crawl away from his bloodied hands.

-(robot hand included.)

-finn leaves them with their lives(barely), and a warning before disappearing into the woods.

-he is struggling to cope. finn hold your hand in his abnormally cold one running his thumb over your knuckles. he's constantly checking in on you, and rarely leaving your side. sleeping, and eating could wait. after all that's happened with the crown, you're all he has left. he can't lose you too.

-he stays by your side as much as he can. finn knows he should probably take his mind off of...your condition and stay productive but it's difficult. the only reason the cabin is warm is because if it got too cold you'd start to shake. he makes food only because if you wake up you might be hungry.

-he doesn't know what to do for the most part, just waiting and hoping that you'll be better in no time. a fear lingers deep inside him that you'll worsen the moment he closes his eyes. so, finn stays up. there are times when he has passed out around the house, and when he wakes up he's absolutely terrified; running to check on you, checking to make sure your wounds haven't reopened, making sure you're alive.

-a deep seeded fear the you'll wilt away in his arms. it keeps him up at night-- it eats at him day by day.

-you're finally awake, but even then the fear doesn't fade. he's at you're every call so much that it begins to worry you.

-you'll have to force him, and i mean force him to sleep. you're ok, he's ok-- everything is ok. he can finally rest.

-he's just happy you're still there with him.

-

prismo.

-you? hurt? nope. not on his time watch. prismo has you out of the situation in seconds, without a scratch. he refuses to ever see you in any pain.

-though, hypothetically, if there's ever a time where you do get hurt, and your wounds cannot be fixed with his wish master magic, and he's "too late", he's not so well.

-you're on a comfy little bed in the wishing room, laying on top of him. your wounds are bandaged up, and cleaned, with your breathing finally stable.

-he never leaves you side once. (sensing a pattern in everyone.) it's either him, or a copy of him. when he's granting wishes to whoever manages to make it to his wishing room, he keeps you in the cube with a copy of himself to watch over you.

-tries to make small talk with your unconscious self...it doesn't go well. the owl visits more often only to lay it's eyes upon the slum prismo is in.

-the cosmic owl tries to ease the depression, though fails miserably. if jake is still alive; his visits, brings gifts, barber sessions, the whole mile for his other best bud. it does kinda help, even if it was just a bit-- but, he's greatful nonetheless.

-while he could be doing better, prismo is doing the best out of everyone to be honest(if jake is around). jake's visits have been more than helpful to this guy, and honestly without jake, he'd be worse than just a mess.

-when you wake up he doesn't believe it at first but he's ecstatic. there is never a time where he's not with you, talking your ear off on how horrible it was without you. and while prismo wants to contuine talking you to your grave, he can't deny hearing your voice after so long does wonders to him.

-bonus if jake's around and prismo's like "and i like...really miss her. y'know? like she's right there but she's not..." "no, dude, i get it..." "i'd kill just to hear her voice just once..." "...prismo..." "ah, shit now i'm hallucinating!!" "no prismo, behind you." "jake, don't play into my delusions!" "god dammit prismo." "YOU'RE AWAKE!? FINALLY."

scarab.

-this man is already insane. he already needs therapy. the anger issues on this psychotic man are insane.

-he loses all sense of morality(that he had left) but surprisingly holds off and tends to you first. by sending you back to headquarters for someone to tend to your injuries while scarab spends the next few hours tearing their molecules apart.

-honestly the worst out everyone. like, if he has a chance to off someone, they're going to die but in the most unconventional, painful, most gruesome way possible. he's....coping?

-at this point it's hard to tell with him, one moment he's rambling under his breath about annoyances, the next....he's offically lost it!!

-sadly he can't be at you're side at all times even if he really wants to, but with his job and all that. when given any chance he's right there next to you. he excuses this behavior as protecting you against anyone who might try anything, but in reality: it's just hard to stay away when you're like this. he wants to stay close even if he can't sometimes.

-scarab has difficulties with intimacy, so he finds it difficult to express his concern the "right" way. others see him as uneffected, and taking it too easy, but he is genuinely scared. he's scared that he loses the one person who can see him for what he is. an emotionally fucked up person who can't stand rule breakers.(joking).

-he finds holding your hand a way to ease the tension.

-when you wake up, he just sitting there, holding your hand.

-he's never letting you go anywhere without a weapon three times your size. of course he teaches you how to use it, but just because he wants you to protect yourself when he cannot. scarab views your injuries as him failing as a partner in more ways than one. he should've made sure you could protect yourself even when he couldn't.

-later on after your wounds have healed you're allowed with him on his missions. he denies being scared. reassure him anyways, he really needs it.

e/n: sorry prismo's and scarab's are short! first time writing them :')

[osunism]

Muse's Fanfic Masterpost

⚠️ Please read before following/interacting. ⚠️

A rebloggable version of this.

I reserve the right to set and maintain boundaries with my blog and my writing. As a rule, I block ageless/blank/minor-run blogs. This blog is run by a real adult and so I only want to interact with other actual adults because my content lends itself to being adult-oriented.

Every original female protagonist I write unless otherwise stated is a dark-skinned Black woman. Sometimes I will include art or a model for closest approximation, but for the most part I make this explicitly clear in the narration.

I usually only write OC/Canon ships. That is central to all of my writing. I know a lot of people are weirdly hostile about OCs being shipped with their favorite characters but I promise you it’s not and never will it ever be that serious. If you’re a dick to me about what I choose to write, at best the only attention you’ll get is a block.

That being said let’s just get this out of the way: I write characters who like to fuck. Sex is going to happen in my work so if that gives you the ick well…you’ve been warned.

I do not take requests. Writing is already very taxing for me given my health issues and schedule, and I want to focus on writing things that I personally enjoy, this includes prompts I choose to participate in.

For my roleplayers and those who like to ship one another’s OCs and do collaborative worldbuilding and headcanons: please ask me first before taking things from my personal sandbox. I’m very protective of my little corner and would rather do things like that with those whom I’ve established a close rapport.

Do not ask me about BioWare [Dragon Age and Mass Effect] content. Yes, my work is still available to read. But I no longer have any interest in creating content for that fandom, so don’t ask me about it.

My purpose and goal in my fanfiction is not to be strictly canon-compliant, and my interpretation of canon events and characters may and likely will differ from yours. Canon is not sacrosanct to me. If you find my work disagreeable because of this, feel free to go read something else suited to your tastes!

If you like my work, pleasepleaseplease share it. Liking my posts or giving kudos on AO3 doesn’t do much if you don’t share it for others to read. Comments are highly encouraged and appreciated as well. It’s always good to see feedback on how people interpret my work. It also helps me refine my writing in order to get my stories across more clearly.

Due to the frequent racist hostility and unpleasantness in other fandoms I inhabit, my comments on AO3 are moderated as a rule. Act like someone raised you right before you interact with me. This includes checking your racial biases at the door.

Below is a list of all my current works. Since I’m currently only active in the JJK fandom, those are the works that’ll be listed! Once other fandoms get active, this list will be sorted and updated!

⛩️ AO3 𑁍 FFN 𑁍 Parallax OCs 𑁍 Sonder OCs 𑁍 Headcanons & Meta ⛩️

Fic Status Key

[♡] - AO3 version.

[⭑] - Tumblr version.

[♤] - Fanfiction(dot)net version.

[🚩] - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

[🔏] - Commissioned Fic

[∞] - In Progress

[☥] - Rewriting

[☯] - Complete

[📿] - Parallax

[🔮] - Sonder

[🪄] - Lost Worlds & Endless Nights

Relationship Key

🧿👹 - Satoru/Sundari

⛩️⚔️ - Sukuna/Nadja

🧿🧜🏾‍♀️ - Satoru/Asabé

⛓️👸🏾 - Toji/Akasha

⛓️👩🏿‍🦱 - Toji/blackfem!Reader

Relevant Tags

#muse writes

#fic rec

#jjk x oc

#jjk x black oc

#jjk fanfic

#jjk fanart

#fic: [ficname]

#series: [seriesname]

#ch: [charname]

#oc: [ocname]

#otp: [shipname]

noun [📿] par·​al·​lax ˈper-ə-ˌlaks ˈpa-rə- 1. the apparent displacement or the difference in apparent direction of an object as seen from two different points not on a straight line with the object. especially: the angular difference in direction of a celestial body as measured from two points on the earth's orbit.

Nadja Hikmat, an immortal warrior tasked by Heaven itself to hunt Ryōmen Sukuna, falls in love with the sorcerer instead. From that fateful meeting, a ripple of unforeseen changes echos across the sea of time.

Beast of No Nation [♡] [⭑] [♤] – One night, the King of Curses took an over-curious fugitive of heaven to task. Over the course that night, and the many that followed, she found herself continuously drawn to the jujutsu world. [☯] [📿] ⛩️⚔️ || 🧿👹

If [♡] [⭑] [♤] – One night, Satoru meets a woman with strange tattoos who sears a place on his mind and memory. Who is she? [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

Crystalline [⭑]– The night Itadori Yuji takes in Sukuna’s Finger, Satoru sees Sukuna’s cursed energy erupt in Roppongi and finds a familiar face at its epicenter. [🔏] [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

We Might Even Be Fallin' In Love [♡] [⭑] [♤] – The miracle of existence bridges the infinity between them. [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

Daughter of Disgrace [♡] [⭑] [♤] – In the aftermath of Satoru Gojo’s sealing, Sundari must choose rebellion in order to free him. Lucky for them both, rebellion has always been her preferred modus operandi. [☯] [📿] ⛩️⚔️ || 🧿👹

The Godslayer Project [♡] [⭑] [♤] - Coming soon...

The universe conspires to keep one pair's love kept safe. Nadja and Sukuna walk Samsāra, no matter the form, recognizing one another's souls everywhere they meet. Here is how their meeting ripples across the multiverse. [Or: I am in love with these two and here are some AUs I'm cooking up.]

Highball [♡] [⭑] [♤] - The price of peace has a cost. The scales must balance eventually. [Yakuza/Found Family AU]

noun [🔮] 1. the feeling one has on realizing that every other individual one sees has a life as full and real as one’s own, in which they are the central character and others, including oneself, have secondary or insignificant roles: In a state of sonder, each of us is at once a hero, a supporting cast member, and an extra in overlapping stories.

A collection of fics in my sprawling JJK multiverse featuring various protagonists, including the Reader!

The Unforgiving Roads That Lead to You [♡] [♤] – Roxanne Abaza, the only foreign-born special grade sorcerer in existence, is called to assist with the wrangling and exorcism of Ryōmen Sukuna. What ensues is more than she bargained for. [☥]

Halfsleeper [♡] [⭑] [♤] – A young widowed sorceress seeks protection under the aegis of the Honored One, but he has a better idea for keeping her out of the clutches of her dangerous clan. [∞] 🧿🧜🏾‍♀️

Unsanctioned [♡] [⭑] [♤] – Bodyguard/Yakuza AU. Toji Fushiguro, who is in disgrace after having an affair with his boss’ now ex-wife, is now tasked with protecting her as the mercurial grounds of Tokyo’s Underworld begin to shift into uncertainty, putting the entire syndicate and anyone associated with them in peril. [∞] ⛓️👸🏾

Before It's Gone [♡] [⭑] – Toji’s been darkening your doorway for a while and is only now realizing what you already knew. [☯] [🔮] ⛓️👩🏿‍🦱

These are playlists for the fics and characters within my JJK ‘verse. It cannot be overstated how much music plays an integral role in my creative process, and it makes me happy to share it with you all to expand the picture I paint with my stories. A ☮︎ indicates a link to the Spotify version of the playlist. Keep in mind that due to licensing issues [yuck], my personal music library tracks can’t be played on some services so there might be more or less songs, different versions of songs, etc. Still bangers, tho. Enjoy.

🎧 [ fugitive of heaven ] [☮︎]– Nadja Hikmat's playlist. Like her immortal life, this playlist has been curated across decades, evoking imagery of a wild, twisting sojourn through many eras. 🐍

🎧 [ godslayer principle ] [☮︎] – Sundari Hikmat's playlist. Expect atmospheric haunting, psytrance, hard techno, some house, R&B, trap, and strange chanting. 🔱

🎧 [ ritual + bone ] [☮︎] – Roxanne Abaza’s playlist. Witchy, just like our girl likes it.

🎧 [ highball ] [☮︎] – The soundtrack for my Parallax AU: Highball.

© 2024 Hajara Asiri. Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost anywhere without permission [reblogging posts is okay]. This includes feeding any of my writing to an AI as well as copying my masterlist format. I only upload on Tumblr, AO3, and FFN. All general banners and dividers by @cafekitsune.

☕️ Member of the @pixelcafe-network.

🇵🇸 Palestinian Resources - A guide to Palestine as well as resources in order to help with relief efforts for individuals and families. You can also check my main blog for fundraisers I boost as well.

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | seven

🐴Chapter summary: Your heart aches and you feel like you see Jimin everywhere you turn, it feels suffocating. When you suddenly get a call from your sister’s doctor saying that she never made it to her appointment, dread fills your bones. 🐴Chapter title: We Got it Wrong 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: car accident and bleeding from a head wound (I’m sorry 😢), OC is just very sad and angry, there’s a lot of angst and stupidity (thanks to the stupid misunderstanding last chapter), lol. It will get better! But not right now 🥲 And if you feel like you need a reminder where the story is heading, read this spoiler 🫶 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 9.5k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “We Got it Wrong” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: in true ‘McLeod’s Daughters’ style, we open up for all the angst in this chapter! It was tough to write, and it was hard not to cry at the end. It’s more on the sad side, but the sun will shine again— don’t you worry! ☀️

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“Tears for all the damage Tears for all the joy Out in the dark, alone and lost I’ll try not to destroy Any more of what we had Because we got it wrong” - ‘We Got it Wrong’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Despite the persistent yearning for Jimin that echoes in your heart and mind, the refuge you find in your work with the wild horses becomes a haven for forgetting. In their presence, you master the art of maintaining a clear mind and keeping your emotions in check.

Otherwise, the delicate dance of gaining their trust remains elusive, and your efforts to gentle them might as well be in vain.

But sometimes maintaining a clear mind becomes a challenge, especially when the echoes of Jimin’s laughter reverberate from his house.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, catching Yoongi’s attention as he glances your way from his perch on the fence.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Yoongi advises, enveloping you in a comforting sideways hug to emphasize his point.

You pout, your bottom lip jutting out, eyes imploring with a softness, “Easy for you to say.”

You sigh once more, a heavy breath escaping, and a profound sense of deflation washes over you. Is this truly the path your life is destined to take?

“He’ll open up to you in due time,” he reassures, and you can’t help but erupt into a manic chuckle, a blend of frustration and disbelief escaping your lips.

“You can’t be serious. It’s been weeks, and he still hasn’t uttered a word to me. I doubt that’s going to change anytime soon,” you express with a mix of disbelief and resignation.

Yoongi relents to your sour mood, descending gracefully from the fence with a resigned sigh, his boots meeting the sand with a soft thud.

Putting your lunch away, you gracefully descend, ready to immerse yourself once more in the comforting distraction of work, hoping to reclaim a few precious hours without the weight of Jimin occupying your mind.

As you stroll alongside Yoongi, you make your way back to the stables, anticipation bubbling within you to witness the progress on the chestnut mare he’s been tirelessly dedicating nearly a month to.

The expansive stable beckons, its generous proportions dwarfing yours, illuminated by a pristine, white light that banishes the garish yellow hues of your own barn. The stalls, noticeably more capacious, could easily accommodate two fully grown horses, prompting an eye roll at the absurd fixation on size—typical men.

With a swift yet gentle command, Yoongi effortlessly guides the mare out of her stall, relying solely on his body language and the cadence of his voice, a testament to the unspoken connection he shares with the spirited creature. “Come.”

His ability to command the horse without the need for a halter or rope leaves you in awe, like witnessing a magician performing an extraordinary feat. As he imparts his tricks to you, you’ve ventured to try them yourself with Mikrokosmos, turning the experience into a magical and exhilarating connection between you and the spirited mare.

Yoongi guiding the brown mare alongside you, you exit the expansive stables and make your way back down to the pens, the rhythmic echo of hooves on the stable floor harmonizing with the subtle sounds of nature surrounding you.

Your gaze shifts to Yoongi, a spark of curiosity brightening your eyes, “Have you thought of a name for her yet?”

A soft chuckle escapes him as you approach the pen, his hand reaching for the gate, “Holly.”

With the gate ajar, Yoongi ushers Holly into the pen with a deliberate calmness. In the center, she stands like a picture of patience, anticipating his gentle approach.

“That’s a cute name,” you remark, a genuine smile playing on your lips as you savor the sweet sound of the horse’s name.

You gracefully ascend, perching on the fence as if it were your throne, offering an unrivaled view of Yoongi’s equine magic.

“What are you gonna do with Holly today?” You inquire with genuine interest, your eyes fixed on the unfolding scene before you. Yoongi approaches Holly with a gentle touch, his hands navigating the contours of the horse like an artist sculpting a masterpiece, eliciting a contented whinny that adds a musical note to the serene atmosphere.

“I’m going to ride her today,” he declares with unwavering assurance, the timbre of his voice resonating with a mix of competence and excitement. As he applies gentle pressure on Holly’s back, the horse remains still, her tail swaying lazily to ward off an annoying insect.

With a graceful ease, Yoongi begins to mount Holly, his movement akin to an acrobat suspended in mid-air, creating a whimsical and amusing spectacle. He’s not fully astride her yet, more like a playful dance over her back, a sight so unique that it tugs at the corners of your lips, tempting a restrained laugh. It’s a display of horsemanship that you’ve never encountered before, leaving you both entertained and captivated.

Holly maintains her poise as Yoongi gracefully hovers on her back, and then, in a seamless motion, he descends to the sandy ground, his landing executed with a finesse that mirrors the effortless connection he shares with the gentle mare.

He recreates the move, elevating himself further on Holly’s back, until he dangles with his head swaying on the opposite side. Your grin widens, and though you’re tempted to burst into laughter, you restrain yourself, not wanting to disturb Holly’s tranquil demeanor.

He glides down once more, approaches her head, and caresses her with a tender touch. The whole interaction exudes a gentle harmony. Returning to her side, he pulls himself up onto her back, effortlessly swinging his leg over her body, finally settling into a comfortable seat.

You’re tempted to applaud, but you resist, not wanting to startle the horse. Yet, your admiration is palpable. This marks Yoongi’s inaugural ride on Holly, a momentous achievement that leaves you thoroughly impressed!

Yoongi stretches over her withers and strokes her neck affectionately, whispering, “Good girl.”

With a subtle click of his tongue and a gentle nudge of his legs, he guides her into a slow walk around the pen, no saddle, bridle, or halter in sight. 

Color you thoroughly impressed.

You watch in silent awe as he maneuvers around the pen, his presence commanding such tranquility that you’re hesitant to disrupt the serene atmosphere by uttering even a breath.

In a breathtaking display, Holly transitions from a slow trot to a graceful canter, and Yoongi remains a steady figure atop her back. His legs maintain a gentle connection with her sides, while his hands rest calmly on her withers. A moment of pure trust unfolds as he releases his grip, extending his arms outward, allowing Holly to dance freely in circles within the pen.

Yoongi embodies the essence of liberation, and a yearning grows within you to share a similar bond of freedom with Mikrokosmos. His infectious smile meets your gaze as Holly releases a resounding snort, prompting a heartfelt chuckle to escape your lips.

Allowing Holly to race freely, Yoongi skillfully guides her by exerting a gentle pull on her withers, coaxing her spirited gallop into a graceful deceleration, transforming the wild rhythm into a serene and controlled stroll.

The distant rumble of an approaching car draws your attention away from the serene scene in the pen, and you reluctantly shift your gaze towards the source. To your dismay, Jimin’s girlfriend arrives, her car pulling up with an elegance that seems to mirror her captivating allure. Ugh. Why does she have to look that good? And why does she look so familiar?

You scrutinize the unfolding scene, watching with a mix of bitterness and resentment as she gracefully emerges from her car. Jimin, despite his limp, crosses the distance to warmly embrace her. The sight sends a surge of conflicting emotions through you – your heart tightens, your blood simmers, and your hands involuntarily clench, the tension palpable as your teeth grind together in silent frustration.

A whirlwind of emotions engulfs you, an uncontrollable storm raging within. The intensity of your feelings is staggering – a deep-seated resentment towards Deiji, a lingering hatred for Jimin himself, yet paradoxically, a persistent love that refuses to fade. The turbulence within you paints an intricate mosaic of conflicting emotions, leaving you helplessly caught in the tumultuous crosscurrents of your heart.

As Jimin leans in to bestow a chaste kiss upon her cheek, bitterness seeps through your veins, staining your soul with an ominous shade of black. Above you, an unseen tempest brews, dark clouds of despair hanging heavily, casting a shadow over your heart.

Time, instead of healing, has only fueled the flames of pain, hurt, anger, and sadness within you. Over two weeks have passed since the last encounter with Jimin and his girlfriend, yet the agony persists, as raw and piercing as if it were yesterday. Rather than easing, the passage of time seems to stoke the embers, transforming your emotions into a relentless storm of fury and jealousy that intensifies with each passing day.

Suppressing the bitterness welling up within, you shift your focus back to Yoongi and Holly. Dwelling on Jimin, the man who once went out of his way for you, retrieving you from the city, proves too agonizing for your fragile heart. 

The nagging question persists: why won’t he engage in conversation, fight for you, like he did then?

“.... Mikrokosmos?” You snap back to the present, catching the tail end of Yoongi’s question. Offering him an apologetic look, you realize you’ve been lost in your own thoughts, missing every word he carefully uttered.

You pivot to fully engage with Yoongi, deliberately tuning out the sight of the content couple in the background. “I’m sorry, I got lost in my own world. What were you saying?” you inquire with a sheepish smile, noting that Yoongi has dismounted Holly and is now giving her affectionate pats.

Yoongi draws in a breath before repeating himself, his gaze fixed on you. “I asked if you want to work on Mikrokosmos?”

With a released breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you offer him a nod. Working on Mikrokosmos is exactly what you need. As you descend from the fence, Yoongi swings open the gate, leading Holly to a paddock where she joins the other horses, letting you both focus on the task at hand.

You stride purposefully into the stables, the familiar scent of hay and warm wood enveloping you as you approach Mikrokosmos, peacefully resting in her stall.

You swing open the stall door, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet stable. With a warm smile and a voice that echoes genuine affection, you greet Mikrokosmos, “Hi Kosmos.”

Mikrokosmos ambles over, her velvety nose brushing against your outstretched hand, and she playfully nibbles, almost giving it a gentle lick. Your laughter fills the air as you shift to pat her neck. Stepping back, she follows, and you guide her down to the pen. With a practiced motion, you swing the gate open, and as she steps inside, you secure it, sealing the quiet world between you and the rest of the bustling stable.

Perched atop the fence, Yoongi assumes his vantage point, keenly observing your every move with Mikrokosmos, a silent maestro overseeing a harmonious dance between human and horse.

You guide Mikrokosmos around the pen, allowing her to explore the boundaries with curious sniffs and gentle trots. Positioned in the center, your anticipation grows as you await the elusive connection, the ’join up’ that has eluded you thus far. A subtle worry creeps in, questioning if this profound bond will ever materialize between you and the majestic creature.

“Relax and let her come to you,” Yoongi advises from his perch on the fence, a keen awareness of the frustration simmering within you.

Another sigh escapes you, a gentle release that carries your thoughts through your body and spills out through your fingertips. Surrendering to the moment, you embrace the idea that sometimes losing control is the only way to regain it. With a deliberate clearing of your mind and a slow, calming breath, you reassure yourself that everything will indeed be fine.

You surrender to the quietude, closing your eyes as you inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. 

As you focus on Mikrokosmos with closed eyes, the subtle rustle of something against the fence flares your senses. Internally cursing Yoongi for disrupting your concentration, your heightened hearing captures the gradual crescendo of hoofbeats, a rhythmic melody slowing to a gentle cadence.

The hoofbeats draw nearer, and your heart matches their slow, rhythmic approach. A mysterious sensation caresses your back, creating an anticipation that hangs in the air like a delicate promise.

With a resounding whinny, Mikrokosmos echoes her presence against your back, a triumphant melody of connection. Pride surges through you like a victorious anthem. Overwhelmed with joy, you pivot slowly, locking eyes with your equine companion, and tenderly pat her forehead, sealing the bond that has blossomed between you.

As Mikrokosmos revels in her joined connection with you, a swell of pride, you become aware of Yoongi’s gratified grin. Yet, amidst the shared triumph, your eyes catch another figure— Deiji, leaning casually against the fence, her smile mirroring the prideful moment as an unexpected witness to your accomplishment.

“That was amazing!” Her voice practically squeaks with amazement, prompting an eye roll from you.

She glances between you and Yoongi, her voice carrying a sweet and eager tone as she proposes, “I was wondering if I could assist you with the horses?” Despite her happy demeanor, you can’t quite shake off the underlying discomfort you feel in her presence.

You don’t want her help. Refusing her offer with a swift and almost brusque retort, “No.” The refusal spills from your lips with an unintended edge, its abruptness catching even Yoongi off guard. He arches an eyebrow at your firm response, a smirk playing on his lips as he finds amusement in your conviction.

Undeterred by your rejection, Jimin’s girlfriend gracefully accepts your refusal, her smile unwavering. “Okay. Please let me know if I can help you somehow,” she offers, her kindness contrasting with the tension lingering in the air.

With a hint of sarcasm, you snide at her, the forced smile on your face barely concealing the complex emotions within. You nod in acknowledgement, and as she releases her grip on the fence, she retreats gracefully towards the house, leaving you with a bittersweet taste in the air.

You stand firm in your independence, a resolute desire echoing in your mind — you don’t want assistance, especially not from her.

Yoongi gracefully descends from the fence, his presence blending seamlessly with the rhythmic strokes of your hand against Mikrokosmos, creating a moment where time seems to pause, encapsulating the essence of your shared connection with the wild horses.

“Did you really have to be so rude to her?” Yoongi chuckles beside you, his laughter a dissonant melody to the tension in the air, and you can’t help but mutter a few choice words under your breath, realizing the complexity of your emotions.

You pivot towards him, a tempest of frustration swirling in your gaze. “She is the enemy!”

His laughter persists, revealing the expanse of his gums. You exhale sharply. “I can’t have her clouding my thoughts while I’m trying to find solace in my work.”

He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Nah, I get it. You’re just yearning for that Park dick to fill you up,” he teases, winking playfully.

Your face heats up, a crimson blush spreading across your cheeks, and you shoot Yoongi an indignant glare. In a hushed tone, laced with irritation, you hiss, “Yoongi!” — wary not to disturb Mikrokosmos with your sudden outburst.

“Are we going on another epic grocery haul?” you tease with a laugh, watching Ara expertly navigate the car towards town. The anticipation builds as you approach, eager to snatch up all the essentials Jessi has meticulously scribbled down on her ever-growing list.

The town unfolds on the horizon, and a surge of excitement bubbles within you. It’s peculiar how a routine grocery trip can evoke such giddiness. Perhaps it’s the prospect of escaping the looming presence of Jimin and Deiji that adds an unexpected thrill to the mundane task.

So far, you’ve become a master of avoiding the couple. If Jimin harbors no desire for conversation, you find yourself questioning the necessity of extending the courtesy to him or his girlfriend.

Admittedly, you’re toeing the line of childish behavior, but damn it, it’s hard to resist. The complexity of your feelings for Jimin unfolds like a tangled web. While you harbor genuine affection, it feels like your chance slipped away, and he’s unwilling to grant you the opportunity to clarify or even listen. You grasp the sting of being picked last, yet you can’t help but wonder – did you fail to convey your feelings clearly enough for Jimin to comprehend?

Damn it, you wish Yoongi never kissed you. Then this wouldn’t be happening. 

In a moment of exasperation, a heavy sigh escapes your lips. Despite the internal mandate to banish thoughts of Jimin from your mind, his presence permeates your thoughts once more, defying your attempts at self-control.

Ara skillfully guides the car into a coveted parking spot near the grocery store carts, strategically positioning you for an efficient grocery haul. The convenience of proximity promises a seamless transfer of bags from store to car, sparing you unnecessary hassle in loading up your supplies.

“I’ll go grab a cart,” you declare, pushing the car door handle. Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin follow suit, emerging from the vehicle with shared anticipation for the shopping expedition.

As your fingers inch toward the cart handle, your attention is abruptly drawn to a familiar figure across the street.

Park Jimin.

Jimin and Deiji share a moment across the street, his whispered words causing her to blush and giggle. Even though their conversation is out of earshot, the infectious sound of her laughter echoes in your mind. With a scuff, you finally grasp the handlebar of the cart, but your attention remains fixed on Jimin.

He seems happy, a devilish smile gracing his lips, and you yearn for that happiness to be aimed in your direction. His fingers play through Deiji’s hair in a seductive dance, and the sight of her biting her bottom lip, restraining a moan you presume, ignites a surge of anger within you. Red dots line your vision as Jimin’s hand trails down to the small of her back, and all you can see is an intense shade of red.

“What’s the holdup?” Soo-ah quips from behind, but met with your silence, she traces the direction of your gaze instead.

“Oh no, sweetheart…” she murmurs, her voice tinged with sadness, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. A stifled sniff escapes you, tears threatening at the edge of your waterline. 

No, crying is the last thing you want to do now. Hold it in.

Your gaze remains fixated on Jimin’s intimate gestures with Deiji, and a suffocating sensation grips your chest. It’s as if the air has grown thin, and a nauseating wave washes over you, threatening to spill an unsettling mix of emotions.

The other girls gather around you, creating a supportive barrier on either side, momentarily diverting your attention from the magnetic presence of Jimin. Their friendship acts as a shield against the emotional turmoil, offering a brief respite from the intense gravitational pull of Jimin’s figure.

“I just don’t understand,” you mumble, your gaze fixated on the ground, a wave of queasiness washing over you. As you lift your eyes, they inadvertently meet Jimin’s across the road in the parking lot. The irresistible brown orbs lock onto yours, causing your breath to hitch, and your body freezes. His expression is a tumultuous mix of anger and spite, a hurtful glare that pierces through you. A small voice in your mind begins to wonder if this spiteful display is born out of pettiness, and the question lingers – would he truly be so petty?

Your heart clenches, and your hands tighten their grip on the cart’s handlebar. Will this overwhelming ache ever dissipate, or are you destined to carry this horrible feeling forever?

Soo-ah and the rest of the girls guide you away from the cart station, gently urging you into the store. Everything inside becomes a blurry haze. A strange ringing noise echoes in your ears, its origin unclear. Your heart aches with an intensity you’ve never felt, and you start to question if you’re beginning to get sick.

“Can you manage the rest? I’m not feeling well…” Your voice carries a low, deflated tone, and the sensation of your vision spinning intensifies, leaving you dizzy. The unfamiliar feeling bewilders you. The girls nod, concern evident in their eyes, yet they allow you to leave their company.

You navigate your way out of the grocery store at a deliberate pace, locate the car, unlock it, swing the door open, and plop down in the seat. Leaving the door ajar, you take in the fresh air, hoping it might provide some relief.

Exhaling deeply, you sense your heartbeat gradually slowing down, but a nagging question lingers in your mind. Is illness creeping in, or is it the persistent ache in your chest that intensifies every time Jimin comes into view? The unexplained heaviness remains, leaving you searching for answers amid the uneasy beats of your heart.

As the girls return with a brimming cart full of groceries, you muster a wry smile. Once the car is loaded, they encircle you, offering tender hugs that carry warmth and reassurance, their silent promise echoing that, despite the current storm, everything will eventually find its way to calm waters.

You secure the seat belt, and Ha-rin takes the wheel, steering you homeward. Your head finds a resting place against the window, and you gaze out with a distant stare. The scenery, painted in hues of green, blue, and gentle yellows, unfolds like a soothing watercolor, gradually lulling your weary mind into a momentary state of tranquility.

Against the cool window, you surrender to the embrace of sleep, only to find yourself entangled in dreams where deep brown eyes pierce through you with a spiteful glare, carrying the weight of disappointment. Haunted by strands of blonde hair, your heart clenches, and amidst the fragments of slumber, you grapple with the question of how things went so awry between you and Jimin.

Every time you’re working with the wild horses, the world fades away. Jimin’s laughter, and the image of his overly joyful girlfriend, lose their vividness in the company of these majestic creatures. You don’t understand how a person can be so happy, it’s like a mystery you can’t unravel. Maybe it’s because your own mood mirrors the darkness of obsidian, overshadowing any hint of joy.

Perched atop the fence, your gaze follows Yoongi’s skilled hands at work on Holly. Today’s session involves a saddle on her back and a bridle, and you can’t help but marvel at the seamless harmony between them. Holly responds with grace, a testament to Yoongi’s expertise. In this transformative process, she inches closer to the coveted status of a fully trained stock horse, a journey Yoongi confidently assures you she’s on the brink of completing.

Your eyes trace Yoongi’s every move as he guides Holly in a mesmerizing gallop around the pen. The atmosphere is charged with a sense of calm, an unspoken understanding between rider and horse. Holly’s spirit, once untamed, now dances gracefully under Yoongi’s expert guidance, creating a scene that is both captivating and harmonious.

Yoongi’s question slices through your contemplation, catching you off guard like a sudden gust of wind. “Do you want to go for a ride?” His words, a tempting invitation, hang in the air, coaxing you to escape the confines of your thoughts and embrace the freedom that awaits on horseback.

Your eyes widen as his proposition sinks in, but you respond with a subtle nod, your silent agreement carrying the weight of anticipation.

As Holly gradually slows to a trot and then eases into a lazy walk, Yoongi reveals, “This is the final test for Holly.”

With a thoughtful expression, Yoongi shares his plan to test Holly’s adaptability in the wild. Intrigued, he proposes, “Why not venture out and seek the herd of wild horses again?” 

It might just be the escape you need from this ranch and its owner, who continues to stir uncomfortable feelings within your now delicate heart.

Jumping off the fence with a renewed sense of purpose, you stride towards the gate. As Yoongi gracefully maneuvers Holly out of the pen, you secure the gate behind you. Your journey continues with determined steps, leading you to where Marshmallow patiently awaits, reins neatly fastened to the fence.

You gently release the reins, your fingers caressing Marshmallow’s neck, eliciting a contented whinny. Placing your foot in the stirrup, you effortlessly swing your leg over his sturdy white frame. The moment you settle into the saddle, a profound sense of belonging washes over you, soothing your restless soul. The inexplicable bond between you and horses never fails to astound you, creating a sanctuary of comfort with every ride.

With a tender smile, your heart lightens, and you delicately urge Marshmallow into a trot by applying subtle pressure with your legs. As you follow Yoongi, the rhythmic beat of hooves creates a symphony that resonates with the newfound tranquility within you.

Embarking on a journey over the rolling hills, the grass beneath remains an enchanting green, bathed in the warmth of lingering summer. A gradual canter carries you through the landscape, your thoughts dissipating, leaving space for the soothing breeze to play with your hair, accompanied by the rhythmic pulse of hooves that mirrors the cadence of your own heart.

Lost in the passage of time, the duration of your ride eludes you, the profound silence between you and Yoongi accentuating the harmony of nature. The mountains, standing proud and towering in the distant horizon, seem to extend warm embraces, enveloping you in a sense of belonging to this picturesque landscape.

As you traverse the landscape, the familiarity of the woods, the serene lake where laughter once echoed with Jessi, and the expansive paddocks that seem to stretch endlessly into the horizon become a poignant backdrop to the rhythm of your horse’s hooves.

The wind tousles your hair, and there’s a fleeting sense that, perhaps, everything is gradually finding its way to being alright.

Lost in the vast expanse, you ride on, the anticipation building within you, wondering if today will be another day the wild horses grace you with their presence. The landscape sprawls before you, an unfamiliar tapestry of nature’s secrets waiting to be unveiled.

As you speak, a soft melancholy smile graces your lips, “I don’t think we’ll see them today, Yoongi.” Despite the disappointment, you hold onto the hope that eluded you, a silent acknowledgment that not everything unfolds as desired—recent events serving as a poignant reminder of life’s unpredictable nature.

“I don’t even know where we are,” you sigh, bringing the horses to a gentle trot. Your gaze sweeps across the expansive landscape, a moment of shared uncertainty between you and Yoongi. 

“I know where we are, don’t worry,” Yoongi assures you, confidence lacing his voice as you both come to a full stop before a vast and lush forest. 

You release the reins, allowing Marshmallow to lower his head and graze on the lush grass, while Holly follows suit. Holly’s remarkable behavior on this ride surprises you; her wild and untamed nature seamlessly hidden beneath a calm exterior. If it weren’t for her untamed origins, she could easily pass as a seasoned stock horse, blending effortlessly into the peaceful scenery.

While allowing Marshmallow and Holly to graze peacefully, their heads suddenly snap up, ears perked forward in unison, attuned to a sound that hasn’t yet reached your own ears. Then, like a wave crashing over you, the familiar rhythm of hooves pounding against the earth becomes clear – a wild and untamed symphony echoing through the air.

As the herd of wild horses materializes in the distance, a charismatic dark brown stallion commands the front, orchestrating the untamed ballet of freedom. They present a majestic spectacle, embodying the essence of the wild – eyes reflecting untold stories, a blend of soulful wisdom and mischievous spirit. With a profound exhale, you find yourself immersed in a deep appreciation for these creatures and the untamed nature that surrounds you.

Holly stands poised, her gaze locked onto the passing herd, perhaps recognizing the familiar faces of her once-wild family. Despite the untamed energy coursing through the herd, she remains steadfast, mirroring your own stance, both of you immersed in silent observation.

The sight of the wild horses in full gallop is nothing short of breathtaking, and as they surge across the landscape, a surge of emotion tightens your heart in your chest, leaving you captivated by the untamed beauty unfolding before your eyes.

In a hushed and reverent tone, you marvel, “They are so beautiful,” your words barely more than a breath, yet carrying the weight of admiration. A subtle nod from Yoongi acknowledges the shared appreciation of the magnificent spectacle before you.

As your heart swells with longing, a sense of crushing desire envelops you, wishing for the freedom these majestic horses possess—to express your truth and embrace the things you yearn for in life. The ache intensifies, a silent plea echoing in the vast expanse of the open landscape.

Your hands clutch the reins, and a damp sensation draws your attention. Glancing down, you discover small droplets of water clinging to your skin. A subtle sniffle escapes you, and it dawns on you—tears cascade down your cheeks, marking your hands with the tangible evidence of your silent emotional storm.

A constriction tightens your chest, and you draw in a deep breath, hoping to ease the pressure, only to release it in a slow exhale. The rhythm of your breath echoes the emotional turbulence within.

Yoongi’s gaze gently turns in your direction, his expression a silent symphony of understanding. No words escape his lips, yet the warmth of a caring smile lingers, offering a comforting embrace in the quietude between you.

You lift a trembling hand to your face, attempting to quell the rebellious tears that seem to have a life of their own. Your breath quickens, a desperate effort to steady your heart and rein in the tumultuous tide of emotions.

With a tear-streaked face, you turn to Yoongi, your eyes carrying the weight of a profound sadness. “Have you ever loved someone so much, it feels like you’re suffocating?”

Your heart carries the weight of your confession, a mix of both burden and liberation. The unspoken truth finally escapes your lips, echoing in the quiet spaces of your soul. Your feelings for Jimin, profound and unyielding, create a storm within, rendering you incapable of coherent thought, drowning in irrationality and a bitter sea of jealousy.

“Yeah,” he utters with a weighted exhale, the weight of that single syllable hangs thick in the air, a tangible presence in the shared space between you. Compassion wells up within you, not just for him, but for your own tender heart. Silent tears continue their descent, accompanied by a subdued sniffle that punctuates the shared vulnerability in the moment.

“I’m so sorry.”

Grumbling under your breath, you meticulously tend to the veggie garden, methodically extracting weeds and inspecting the plants for any sign of ripe fruit. Kneeling on a plush mat to provide respite for your beleaguered knees, your hands adorned with protective gloves, ensuring that both your hands and fingers remain shielded as you immerse yourself in the nurturing care of the flourishing garden.

Amidst the monotony of this laborious task, you find yourself immersed in the meticulous chore of weeding, the unfortunate bearer of the short straw today. Rows of carrots and potatoes bear witness to your diligent efforts as you navigate through the verdant expanse, determined to extract every intrusive weed that dares encroach upon the fertile soil.

Lost in contemplation, the rhythmic cadence of footsteps stealthily closes in on you, their approach unheard in the sanctuary of your introspective musings.

“Hi, I’m going into town,” your sister’s sudden announcement startles you from your gardening reverie. As you look up, her intent gaze meets yours, a tapestry of confusion woven into your expression.

“Why are you heading into town? Weren’t you supposed to tackle the tax today?” you inquire, your hands continuing their task of pulling stubborn weeds from the soil.

“I have that doctor’s appointment, remember?” Her raised eyebrow prompts a silent scold for forgetting such an important detail.

Panic flickers in your eyes as you abruptly halt your weeding, staring at your sister with genuine concern. “When did you mention the doctor’s appointment? Is everything okay?” Worry lines crease your forehead, a mix of surprise and anxiety clouding your expression.

With a light chuckle, she tries to alleviate your concerns, “Just a routine checkup, no big deal!” Her laughter carries a reassuring tone, and as she waves, the softness in her expression mirrors the warmth that envelops you.

You return her smile, your gaze lingering as she strolls away toward the yard, where the cars patiently wait.

“See you later,” she calls with a wave. From your perch in the veggie garden, you observe her unlocking the car, slipping into the driver’s seat of the pickup truck. The tail lights illuminate briefly, transitioning to brake lights before shifting to the soft glow of white. Jessi maneuvers in reverse, the wheels crunching on the dirt road as she disappears toward town.

As you return to the arduous task of pulling weeds, you find yourself grappling with the relentless tendrils of frustration, a silent curse escaping your lips like a rebellious whisper. Resigned to the fate of having drawn the shortest straw, you navigate through the sea of stubborn greenery, each tug of resistance echoing the monotony of your predicament.

Beneath the blazing midday sun, gratitude washes over you for the protective refuge of your hat, casting a welcomed shadow upon both your face and neck. Yet, despite this shield, beads of perspiration dance down your forehead, a testament to the unexpected physical rigor of the task at hand. The sheer demand of the job dawns upon you, surpassing your initial expectations. 

Anticipating the aftermath, you realize the likelihood of waking up tomorrow with sore arms, an inevitability intensified if you neglect the crucial post-labor ritual of stretching your fatigued muscles.

Emerging victorious from your laborious undertaking, you navigate your way into the kitchen, a sanctuary promising respite in the form of an icy glass of water. As the fridge door swings open, a cascade of cool air envelops your sweat-drenched face, offering a fleeting reprieve before you reluctantly seize the chilled jug. Your quest for relief continues as you reach for an overhead cabinet, extracting a glass that promises salvation. The sensation of the glass against your palms is a prelude to the ecstasy that follows as you pour the water, savoring its frosty embrace. With each indulgent gulp, the frigid liquid becomes a balm, soothing the searing heat that has claimed your body in this relentless weather.

Savoring the rejuvenating coolness, you lean leisurely against the countertop, the glass of water a welcome oasis in your hands. Just as the refreshing liquid begins to work its magic, Soo-ah strides into the kitchen, her expression twisted into a weird frown.

Your discerning gaze sweeps over Soo-ah’s form, a subtle intuition whispering that something is amiss, yet the unspoken question lingers on your lips. Before you can voice your inquiry, she breaks the pregnant silence, her words hanging in the air like a cryptic prelude. “Have you seen Jessi?”

A subtle tremor courses through your being as you dismissively shake your head, “She’s in town for a doctor’s appointment.” 

A shadow of concern paints Soo-ah’s features as she deftly retrieves her phone from the depths of her pocket, her eyes flicking to the screen with a mixture of urgency and unease. “How long has she been gone?”

A ripple of disquiet snakes its way through you, fueled by Soo-ah’s restive demeanor. Methodically, you rewind the clock in your mind, tallying the hours since Jessi’s presence graced your sight. “About five hours,” you declare, the admission carrying a weight that coils into an unsettling sense of foreboding.

Weariness etches itself deeper into Soo-ah’s countenance, her features now a canvas painted with both fatigue and concern. Your heartbeat quickens, a subtle but undeniable jolt, as the realization takes hold—this is not merely a cause for concern, but an ominous sign that tightens its grip around your heart, intensifying the ominous gravity of the moment.

A sudden, piercing ring shatters the stillness, and your gaze instinctively darts towards the source—a resonating chime from the landline. The air tightens around you, your heartbeat accelerating into a rapid cadence, each breath shallow and tense. A palpable wave of dread courses down your spine, a cold shiver that heralds an impending revelation. Locking eyes with Soo-ah, both of you stand frozen, caught in the ominous limbo between the echoing ring and the unknown that awaits on the other end of the line.

You should pick it up dammit! A stern scolding echoing in your mind, compelling your body into animated motion that seems detached from your own will. With a sense of urgency, you traverse the space to the countertop, your hand stretching out towards the ringing phone. As your fingertips make contact with the cream-colored plastic, a surge of anxiety courses through them, a prelude to the unknown that awaits on the other end. The plastic yields beneath the pressure of your grip, and in the hushed anticipation, you lift the receiver, your voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension. 

“Hello, Bora Ranch. How can I help you?”

The voice on the other end of the line weaves a narrative that acts like a chilling undertow, dragging your heart into an abyss of despair. Your hand involuntarily tightens around the phone, a desperate grip as if it were your sole connection to a vanishing lifeline.

The voice on the other end, that of the doctor’s receptionist, cuts through the air, delivering news that lands with a disconcerting weight. 

“We’re calling to let you know that Jessi missed her appointment today, and we wanted to know if she wants to reschedule another one?” 

You then realize that weird feeling you’ve been having— this isn’t good.

A furrow etches itself onto your brow, the cord winding around your other hand as if trying to anchor you in a moment slipping out of your control. “She hasn’t come home yet. Can I get back to you?” 

The words hang in the air, delivered with a voice that quivers with a blend of unease and uncertainty, as you begin to grasp what this means.

The receptionist’s agreement is a somber symphony in your ears before bidding goodbye. With a heart weighed down by the gravity of the call, you delicately place the receiver back in its cradle. As your eyes shift back to Soo-ah, her visage mirrors your own unsettled state, her features etched with a shared tension, a palpable reflection of the worry that swirls between you like an unspoken storm.

A thick silence hangs in the air, pregnant with unspoken fears. 

Soo-ah, unable to bear the weight any longer, shatters the tension like fragile glass. “Well, what is it?” Her words cut through the quiet, a desperate plea for answers.

You’re afraid.

Dread coils around your words, a vice grip on your throat as you grapple with the weight of unspoken fears. The hesitation lingers, but the urgency pushes you to break the silence. “Jessi never made it to her appointment…” 

You observe the subtle transformation in Soo-ah’s face, a haunting dance between anguish and concern. 

“Well, where is she then?” Soo-ah demands, her voice betraying an unsteady cadence that mirrors the delicate balance of the unspoken question hanging in the air, as if the answer hinges on your words. Your gaze reflects uncertainty, exhaling a breath heavy with the weight of the unknown.

“I think something bad has happened to her,” your voice wavers, the admission reluctant and laden with a vulnerability that you wish could be erased. The words, heavy with an unwelcome truth, carry the weight of a foreboding certainty that reverberates deep within your bones—an ominous resonance that refuses to be silenced.

Soo-ah, with her once sun-kissed complexion drains of its warmth, now veering into an eerie, almost gray pallor. A whisper of worry taints her words as she utters, “We should call Jungkook.” 

With a solemn nod, you reach for your phone, fingers betraying a subtle tremor as you punch in Jungkook’s number. As you raise the phone to your ear, the weight of the impending conversation echoes in the hollow space between each ring.

Holding your breath, time stretches into an agonizing eternity as you strain to listen to each ring, each heartbeat resonating in the charged stillness. The suspense tightens like a coil around your chest until, finally, a tremulous exhale escapes as Jungkook’s voice breaks the silence.

“This is Kook.”

An instant paralysis grips your vocal cords, a sudden constriction that renders your throat a silent battleground, incapable of surrendering even a solitary word. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook’s inquiry pierces the heavy silence, his voice carrying a note of concern that seems to reverberate through the unspoken void on the other end of the line.

A glacial stillness descends upon you, an icy grip that renders you immobile. 

Words, elusive and stubborn, refuse to surface. Soo-ah’s worried gaze lingers on you, but in a decisive sweep, she snatches the phone from your ear, her move cutting through the stasis like a sudden gust of wind disrupting a frozen landscape. 

“Hi, it’s Soo-ah. We need your help,” her voice, a steady prelude to the storm brewing beneath the surface, carries the weight of urgency as she unfolds the crucial details. “Jessi left for a doctor’s appointment, but she never made it, and it’s been five hours now. We’re afraid something has happened… Will you help us search for her?”

The murmur of Jungkook’s response on the other end remains elusive to your ears, but Soo-ah, in a breathy exhale that holds a universe of gratitude, utters a heartfelt, “Thank you.” She returns your lifeline– the phone, with a subtle yet meaningful gesture, restoring it to your hands as if passing the torch for the impending journey into the unknown. 

“He’ll be here in 10 minutes to pick you up,” she discloses, the gravity of her concern etching deeper creases onto her forehead. 

“What are you gonna do then?” The words burst from you, riding the crest of a wave formed by a potent mix of frustration and worry, their resonance echoing in the room. 

“I’m going to stay here… In case she comes home,” she reveals, her commitment to a vigil laden with unspoken hope. But then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, “or if the hospital calls.” 

The weight of her last admission sends a sinking feeling through your chest, an acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Understanding settles in, and you offer a solemn nod, bracing yourself for Jungkook’s imminent arrival as the silent countdown to unravel the mystery begins.

Before the sleek silhouette of his black pickup truck materializes, the air is sliced by the cacophony of tires screeching—a desperate symphony of grip and resistance against the unforgiving dirt, an audible testament to the urgency that propels Jungkook towards the yard.

You dash outside, the urgent thud of your footsteps aligning with the accelerating heartbeat of the moment. Jungkook hurtles down the driveway, a kinetic force in his speeding vehicle that screeches to a dramatic halt before you. The window rolls down, revealing a face etched with determination, and he hollers, “Get in.” 

Obediently following his command, you seize the door handle, leaping into the truck with a hurried intensity. The door barely has time to shut before Jungkook slams his foot on the accelerator, leaving a swirling cloud of sand in the wake of the roaring vehicle. 

Worry etches deep lines into his face, transforming his normally composed features into a tapestry of concern. His lips press into a stern line, and his eyes, laser-sharp, pierce through the windshield, scanning the road ahead. The white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel betrays a tension that courses through him, turning his knuckles into pale anchors of anxiety. 

“What the hell happened?” The words slice through the air, dripping with a demanding tone that carries an undertone of a hiss, a viper’s sharpness in each syllable. 

Turning toward him, you admit with a meekness that hangs in the air, “I don’t know.” Your voice, a delicate whisper, contrasts with the clenching of your hands over your pants, while your bottom lip falls victim to the anxious bite of nerves. Fuck.

The weight of hope and fear interlaces in your thoughts—desperately wishing Jessi is safe, yet haunted by the gnawing question of why, if she is, hasn’t she reached out? 

Jungkook maneuvers the vehicle like a man possessed, hurtling down the lone road that unravels into town with a velocity that borders on recklessness. This is Jessi’s path, the very route she would undoubtedly have traversed. 

Your heart orchestrates a frenzied symphony of worry and fear, its rapid tempo matching the breakneck speed at which Jungkook propels the truck forward. 

The uneven terrain jolts beneath the truck’s tires, a relentless assault on the vehicle as it hurtles down these rugged, neglected roads. The coarse reality of the battered path becomes starkly apparent with every bone-rattling bump, each pothole a testament to the less-than-ideal conditions. 

“Slow down unless you want us to crash!” You warn him in a stern voice as desperation fuels your words and you clutch the handle at the top of the truck, your knuckles turning white as you seek stability amid the turbulent velocity. 

He merely huffs, an audible dismissal that betrays the resilience of his determination. It’s evident that your words struggle to penetrate the thick armor of his focus. However, your own concerns take precedence, and the prospect of a car accident looms like an ominous specter in the midst of your search for Jessi. 

“Fucking slow down or let me drive!” The urgency in your yell slices through the truck, a desperate ultimatum that demands immediate action. A tangible flinch from Jungkook, beside you, signals the impact of your words. With a reluctant release, he eases his right foot off the gas pedal, and the once-roaring speed of the vehicle unravels into a gradual deceleration. 

“Thank you,” you declare with a furious edge, your gratitude tinged with the lingering urgency of the search.

Jungkook skillfully guides the turn with a precise speed, threading the needle between velocity and caution. As the vehicle emerges from the curve, the truth unravels before your eyes. 

A sight that sends your heart plummeting, and an unspoken pact of dread settles between you and Jungkook, a bone-chilling silence that engulfs the interior of the truck. 

There it is, the all-too-familiar white pickup truck, an unexpected apparition right before you, nestled on the side of the road. It’s not parked; it’s crumbled against a tree. 

Jungkook wrenches his truck to a sudden halt, the engine silenced with a precision that echoes the urgency of the moment. In a flash, he bolts out of the car, a whirlwind of determination propelling him towards the scene. You trail closely in his wake, the echoes of your pounding heart reverberating alongside a disorienting ringing in your ears.

You sprint towards the crumpled wreckage, the front of the car wedged against the unforgiving tree. Panic fuels your frantic search for your sister amidst the twisted metal. Jungkook beats you to the driver’s side, and in a desperate attempt to catch a glimpse, you tiptoe over his shoulders. 

The chilling reality reveals itself—blood stains the window, and Jessi’s head, eyes closed, rests against it in an unsettling image. 

Fuck.

“Jessi!” The desperate cry erupts from deep within you, a primal howl behind Jungkook, and you resort to clawing at his back in a futile attempt to let you pass. However, he remains an immovable barrier, unyielding in his protective stance. 

His hand extends, a forceful gesture that wards you off, and his demanding tone slices through the charged air, declaring, “No, let me.”

You cease your futile attempt to scratch through the barrier of Jungkook’s back, relinquishing control to his judgment. Your gaze fixates on the unfolding scene as he seizes the door handle, pounding on the window while the fervent echo of your sister’s name reverberates through the stagnant air. 

A leaden weight settles upon your heart, dragging it down to depths unknown, and you slump to the unforgiving ground beside the truck. The haunting question hangs in the air, an unspoken fear clawing at your consciousness—could she be dead?

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, a poignant manifestation of your helplessness, as you watch the scene unfold. The overwhelming sense of uselessness engulfs you like a suffocating shroud because Jungkook, with his determined insistence, bars you from contributing to the unfolding crisis. 

Jungkook channels every ounce of his strength into wrenching the door handle, a Herculean effort that, to your dismay, yields no success. Undeterred, he pivots, striding purposefully around the car to attack the problem from the passenger’s side. The moment of truth arrives as the door finally acquiesces to his relentless determination, swinging open with a sudden release of pent-up tension. Jungkook, caught off guard by the door’s sudden compliance, is propelled backward, almost airborne, a visceral testament to the raw force he exerted in the pursuit of accessing the vehicle’s interior.

With a determined crawl into the cabin, Jungkook bridges the agonizing gap between hope and despair, finally reaching your sister. The urgency in his voice echoes through the air as he commands, “Call an ambulance!”

You rise from the unforgiving ground, a determined surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. With swift precision, you extract your phone, fingers dancing with urgency as you dial those three critical numbers. 

“Is she alive?” The question hangs in the air, a fragile whisper that dares not disturb the gravity of the moment. Holding your breath, you await his answer, the air thick with the weight of an impending revelation that could reshape the contours of your reality. 

“She’s breathing,” Jungkook exhales, his voice carrying the weight of relief, a momentary respite from the tension. You approach the driver’s window, eyes fixed on your sister’s form. The sight of her chest rising and falling in a slow, deliberate rhythm becomes a visual anchor, a palpable reassurance that she clings to life. 

Well, that’s good.

Cradling the phone to your ear, you navigate the urgent conversation, orchestrating a plea for the ambulance to converge on your dire location. The proximity of the ranch intensifies the raw reality—you aren’t that far away. A sinking feeling grips your heart as you grasp the cruel expanse of time she’s endured out here, alone and injured. 

Jungkook delicately prods Jessi’s arm, a gesture pregnant with hope, yet the anticipated response remains elusive—a disheartening void that echoes the uncertainty of the situation. 

“I know it looks bad, but we shouldn’t move her. It’s best to wait for the paramedics,” Jungkook utters reluctantly from the passenger’s seat.

You acknowledge the truth in his words, but your gaze lingers on Jessi, a silent witness to the vivid evidence of her injuries—blood seeping from her head. The unsettling unknown looms large, a haunting question mark etched across your thoughts—what other wounds might she be concealing beneath the shadows of her stillness? 

The wait for the ambulance unfolds like a nightmarish blur until the air is pierced by the sound of a low voice. Both you and Jungkook pivot, your gazes converging on your sister, a crescendo of fear and anticipation reaching its zenith. 

Jessi stirs, her murmurs threading through the air, but the coherence of her words eludes understanding. As her eyes tentatively flutter open, a feeble attempt to articulate follows, yet the utterances emerge as a nonsensical cascade, the syllables twisted into a form of gibberish. 

“It’s okay. You’ve been in a car accident, and the ambulance is on its way,” Jungkook reassures, his words a tender balm delivered with a gentle caress on your sister’s cheek. Tears shimmer in his eyes, a raw display of his emotional turmoil, as his calloused fingers delicately trace the curve of her cheekbone.

Her head pivots towards you, eyes finally unveiling an unspoken distance, their luster dimmed. A pang reverberates through your chest as you meet her gaze—her eyes, once vibrant, now bear the weight of an unspoken ordeal. The visceral urge to pull her from the confinements of the wreck claws at your heart. Oh, why can’t you just extract her from this damn car, ensuring her safety and whisking away the haunting uncertainty that clings to the moment? 

“It’s going to be okay,” Jungkook utters, his voice quivering with a blend of reassurance and uncertainty that reverberates through the air. His attempt at strength is palpable, yet the vulnerability seeps through the cracks as tears cascade down his face.

Yet amidst the chaos, a fervent hope takes root within you, a beacon amid the storm of uncertainty. A silent plea echoes in the depths of your being, transcending mere optimism, as you yearn—truly, desperately, for everything to unfold in a way that defies the ominous shadows cast by the present.

The wail of the ambulance siren pierces the air, heralding the arrival of salvation, and it swiftly aligns next to Jungkook’s car. A flurry of activity ensues as paramedics spill out, each armed with purposeful bags. Amidst the orchestrated urgency, some of them extract a stretcher from the belly of the ambulance.

Jungkook emerges from the car, gracefully ceding the realm to the paramedics, and approaches your side. His arm envelops your trembling frame, a silent reassurance amidst the tumult. No words pass between you as the paramedics meticulously cut the seatbelt, delicately affix a collar around Jessi’s neck, their movements choreographed in a synchronized ballet of urgency. 

Within the orchestrated chaos, a paramedic deploys a machine, its mechanical whir echoing through the night, to pry open the driver’s door. Simultaneously, another paramedic stands sentinel, ensuring Jessi remains securely in place, a guardian against the imminent void that will unfold once the door is relinquished.

The scene is gruesomely vivid, and an involuntary welling of tears clouds your vision as the brutal reality sets in. Leaning into Jungkook’s unwavering presence, you find solace in the haven of his steady frame, though your sniffling breaths betray the emotional maelstrom within. As your tears mingle with his on the fabric of your shirt, a silent communion of shared vulnerability takes root.

With meticulous care, the paramedics lift Jessi from the driver’s side, each movement deliberate and measured as they lay her down on the stretcher. The air hangs heavy with collective breath, your own held in a suspended moment of agonizing anticipation. The constriction in your chest intensifies, a sensation of breathlessness seizing you. Seeking an anchor in the chaos, you find Jungkook’s hand, fingers interlocking in a tight, desperate grip—a physical manifestation of the silent plea echoing within as you navigate the precipice of uncertainty.

“We’ll transport her to the hospital in town. You can follow us if you want,” one of the paramedics offers, their words a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of emotions. Gratitude courses through you, and you manage a nod of appreciation, though the knot in your throat constricts your ability to voice your thanks. 

Your gaze lingers on the departing ambulance, the doors sealing your sister’s fate within its sterile embrace. A quiet sniffle punctuates the lingering echoes of the departure. When you turn to Jungkook, his face bears the marks of tear-streaked sorrow, a testament to the profound love he harbors for your sister. The depth of his emotions mirrors the tumult within you, both bound by an unspoken yearning for everything to be right—for the fractures to heal and the shadows to dissipate in the face of an uncertain journey that now stretches before you.

The ambulance departs, leaving a gritty trail of dirt in its wake, a visual metaphor for the unsettling uncertainty now etched into your reality. Your gaze lingers on the vacated space it once occupied, a void that echoes the fear reverberating within. The future looms before you, an ominous terrain shrouded in ambiguity, and you grapple with the unrelenting questions that cast shadows on the path ahead.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[rosepetalkitty]

hi hey hello please read this its important info!!

about!!!

what is this? who am i?

hi hi hi!!! finally caved and made an nsfw/kink altblog. no i will not be linking this to my main blog even if u know me there. i doubt im ever gonna post anything thats just outright sexual here bc im acespec and not really into that stuff very much but like kink is such a fun topic so that'll come up a lot. also for the record, this is not a "men dni" page but i am generally sapphic.

call me Rose if you're subby or rosie if you want me to be ^-^ my pronouns are she/her, kit/kitty and ella (es.), i'm an 18y/o trans girl, and i've been diagnosed with adhd, autism and tourettes, among other things.

also, as of october 30th, 2024, i am a voice actress!!! my audios are posted on my reddit page!!! i don't do commissions (yet!) but im happy to take suggestions, so if you have an idea, shoot me an ask!!

and uhhh dunno what else i was gonna say. plspls send me asks i love the attention!!! i'll leave anons on until it becomes a problem~ anyways uh yeah! enjoy!

please read below the break for more information, especially if you plan on interacting with this blog!!

where you can reach me:

here, obviously, though tumblr dms are pretty bad. on the bright side this is like zero effort. you're on tumblr, im on tumblr, yay

simplex! you can click that link to add me, and if you don't have simplex it'll explain to you how to set it up, which is super duper easy. it's really really great privacy wise!! i would very much appreciate it if you send me a tumblr dm telling me your simplex display name so that i know who's who.

discord. my discord tag is the same as my url here. i do prefer simplex over discord though (mostly cuz i don't switch discord accounts on my phone bcuz it's a pain, and also bcuz of the privacy thing)

some links!

you can send me praise here!!!!

i write my stories on this neocities page now!

my cashapp is here!! it's essentially a virtual tip jar and if you appreciate my va work i would really really appreciate a tip, but please don't feel obligated to!

and here are some posts that are significant to me for one reason or another

this blog is a persona, a ranty short essay about identity, emotional freedom, masking and what it really means to know Me

my first real audio post!! oh my goddess this was so exciting!!!

on fear regarding human domestication guide, and on my hope to someday overcome it

regarding my roommate, myrrh

as of writing (2024-11-08), myrrh (murmur unless you have been given permission to use the prior! check baa pinned before interacting with bah!) and i are now comfortable interacting on tumblr. this is awesome because discussing kink as an interest is great and ba's my bestie, but i need to make this incredibly clear:

we are strictly platonic! we are not dating, we are not fwb, we do not do any kinky or sexual stuff together at all and never will. we chat about kink and sometimes make jokes about it at each other's expense, but we are friends who live together, not partners. do not insinuate otherwise, it makes both of us very uncomfortable.

An important note about dominance...

If you're exclusively a dom(me) you can skip this, otherwise I would appreciate it if you could at least skim it.

i do not like the expectation that i will be dominant at any given time, but I do enjoy showing some dominance sometimes, in some situations. I do enjoy being a brat, when I'm not already feeling really subby but want to be put in my place.

Hell, I do enjoy hypnotizing people. A lot, actually. I've been a hypnotist (in both a purely for fun way and occasionally a kink way depending on the person) for a relatively large number of people over the past several years, including in person for a handful of people, though much less so in the past year or so. I even make files now, and it's really really fun.

The problem is, I get burnt out very quickly if I force myself to be dominant when my brain isn't just doing it spontaneously. How do I know? In past relationships my partners saw me as a switch, and expected me to dominate them as much as they dominated me. I really can't do that. My dominance is as much within my control as my hyperfixations — I can make good use of it when it's there, but when it isn't there's nothing I can do to force it without causing myself lots of stress and burnout.

For that reason I'm not willing to be your domme or anyone else's. Instead of seeing me as a switch, please consider me a sub who can be dominant sometimes. I can't do it on demand, and I can't promise that I will be able to do it for any given person at any given time.

some notes for the page!

if ive tagged a post with #pull my trigger! then that means im ok with ppl playing with my brain in the notes!! otherwise, please just message me directly. im always okie with dms.

posts with #mean rosie on them have me teasing/messing with/bullying (in a /lh way) other people~ don't ask me to do this to you unless it's like a reblog responding to me doing that to you or smth. i don't usually enjoy showing dominance like that. sometimes im just the flavor of brat that likes to tease people. other times i do kinda feel a little bit dominant but. meh. even then ill pretty much always slip down into good girl mode on the spot if anyone shows any dominance towards me, usually even more so than i would normally.

posts tagged #angel rosie are ones that make me really happy~

#rosie rambles and #rosie rants go on serious/out of theme posts, with the latter being for emotionally heavy ones

#rosie speaks goes on all my audios~

plspls ask me about my triggers, my kinks, etcetc!!! i love getting told to answer questions >w<

dni list

any adult is free to view my page. minors, please leave. im serious. that said, there are certain things that will get you blocked from interacting with my page, so if your blog falls into any of these categories please kindly just look, don't touch.

agepl@y

terfs, and anyone else who doesn't think trans women are women

s!ssy, crossdressing and detrans themed pages. i have nothing against you for liking that stuff, but it makes me really uncomfortable because of some past experiences. please dni.

blank blogs, no age in bio or pinned, blogs that seem to just be spam reblogging everything, etc. sometimes this is case by case — "18+" is usually not chill, but "20s" or "30s" usually is. if you have nothing at all that's a nope. having a pfp is important, by the way.

blogs that just spam ai generated pictures. im sure youre chill, but ai pictures take the humanity out of your blog and frankly just look bad. posting one here or there on an otherwise human blog is thin ice, but i care a little less when there's other content too, as long as your other content is good.

my kinks, my limits my triggers

obviously im very very into hypnosis, especially intelligence play (aka dumbification), especially especially when there are bimbo themes involved. im also into everything on this list (in no particular order), but its definitely not exhaustive because theres things ive never tried before. please try new things on me!

light/medium bondage

pet play (as a kitty or a bunny, totes open to others but those are ones i luv)

spanking and other light pain, including light scratching/marking

being groped

praise and degradation, especially when its condescending

gentle doms (not that other styles are bad, but gentle+manipulative+condescending+possessive is my favorite)

other people picking my clothes

physical affection (headpats, scritchies, cuddles, kisses)

medical play (very specifically anesthesia, limited interest in other parts of it)

gaslighting

exhibitionism (especially when im being shown off)

behavior modification (especially clicker training!)

edging and denial

i have a voice kink for certain types of voices. generally my favorites are deep femme voices with really soft tones that get sharp to add emphasis to certain words like "drop" or "now". i also sometimes like higher softer masc voices, but deep or rough masc voices make me uncomfortable most of the time. if you want me to give you examples of hypnotists on the internet whose files i like, please send an ask or dm me.

when im in control (especially when it's about my audios!!!), i love being told how i make you feel, what you think of me, etc, so go on, feed my ego ;)

sooo yeah!! next are my soft limits — things i don't necessarily love but can tolerate in an otherwise fun context. please ask before acting on these because i would generally prefer to avoid them.

hypno audios narrated by text to speech — most of them are just grating and i can't relax with them.

"brainwashing" files that are just someone saying the same thing over and over with no induction or deepener or triggers or anything to put me under. i need to be in trance before that stuff does anything.

"hypnosis audios" that have loud music, or where the script is turned into a song. i've heard it done well maybe once or twice, i've heard it done wrong a million times.

hypnosis content as long form videos, especially when i need to read text in the video. my eyes get exhausted from staring at a screen for too long. i really really prefer audio, and text is good too, but videos longer than a couple minutes are rough.

and finally, here are my hard limits. please don't bring these things up. full stop. these are non-negotiable.

everything on my dni list

the drugs haloperidol/haldol, lorazepam/ativan and promethazine/phenergan

heavy pain

blood, knives/sharps, heavy scratching/marking

being asked/"forced" (i can and will block you if you're pushy) to send pictures or videos. audio is a hard maybe and very much depends on dysphoria at that moment and vibes. but yeah pictures and videos are a no-go.

being sent dick pics. please don't. im not into that. other pics are probably fine as long as you're chill.

extended degradation with no praise (i start having genuine self image issues past a certain point - i like being degraded, having my behavior changed, and then being praised as a reinforcement mechanism)

intox play, especially alcohol and weed. it scares me because of some past experiences. this is specifically about being intoxicated in the traditional sense (drunk/high), so like for example being sedated is something im cool with (and actually love the idea of)

feeding kink stuff

and here are some of my hypnotic triggers, in no particular order

"brain goes bye bye" melts my brain and makes it really hard to think

"control goes bye bye" takes control of my brain and my body away so that i just do as im told

"memories go bye bye" makes it really hard to remember anything for a while, which mostly just shuts my brain off. these first three are all from Miss Lilith, i love her files~ <3

"sleep" and "drop" both put me under, to varying degrees of success. might take multiple uses to really take me down deep, and really everything works better with a snap

"good girl" makes me happy and a tiny bit more obedient

"look here", "listen" and "focus" draw in my attention and make it hard to look away from/ignore whatever is being shown/said to me. they also usually make me more suggestible.

"lightning" makes me feel weak and dazed and when im like that "thunder" puts me under and gets me really floaty and fuzzy

"submit and obey" makes me obedient and super duper suggestible

i have a lot more, im just not remembering them all right now. theres probably dozens in my brain from all the files ive conditioned myself with over the years

[broodwolf221]

my message to new/returning fans

as da4 approaches and the fandom changes, gaining both new and returning users, i want to state very clearly:

share your thoughts! it doesn't have to be "original" to be valuable! no more than it needs to conform to current fanon! you don't need to read everyone else's theories in order to state your own

I'm familiar with that pressure and how much it can dampen the urge to share, to actually engage with the broader fandom. even though i was there at the start of dai's fandom, i fell out of it for years and came back recently, and there was a definite undercurrent of pressure to a) conform to the theories already stated, especially by big name fans, and b) to only ever post a truly original theory

the former inherently limits fandom and treats it more like an academic field that one needs to be familiar with before stating anything; the latter is fundamentally ridiculous, since we're all engaging with the same source material and have the ability to perceive foreshadowing and explore what it means. the first person to perceive and write about a bit of foreshadowing has no more fundamental "right" to that perspective than the hundredth

it can also be hard to wade through the tags of a fandom that's been out for a decade+, especially if you like a character or ship that gets a lot of hate. that's exhausting and no one is obligated to do that research

you're not too late to the fandom to have theories, to post meta, or to express your feelings. those of us currently in the fandom would do well to remember that new people will be joining us and they likely won't even know the bloggers who have already posted meta, so seeing someone ask if xyz has ever been considered should be treated as a valid question. seeing someone say they've never seen ppl talking about xyz should be viewed as an invitation to (gently!) point to some people who have talked about it. "oh, if you're into this idea, you might like [username's] meta"

i think it's valuable to draw attention to the fact that a long-established fandom has been getting new blood throughout the whole time it's been here, and will be getting considerably more new blood soon, and that it might be worth adapting to that early. because regardless of any established fan's preferences, we are going to be getting new fans unfamiliar with established theories/fanon. and no one should be beholden to fanon anyway

but all this is to also say - new fandom members? i see you. I'm here for you. if you want to know what's been said, you can ask me and i will direct you as best i can; if you want to come up with stuff on your own, i support that. i will never come onto your posts to "disprove" your theory or to claim it's unoriginal

also, know that when you see vent posts where people are feeling annoyed about fans or complaining about them, they are almost certainly talking about fans who are engaging in discourse, are argumentative, or are otherwise being kinda shitty. i know - from personal experience! - how easy it is to take a vague vent post personally, especially when the kind of behavior they're actually annoyed by isn't clarified, but it's unlikely to be directed at fans who are engaging with curiosity and excitement. being new to a fandom is intimidating and as someone who's trying to be respectful, it can be so easy to internalize messages from people's venting, but fr, it's rarely about new fans and their conclusions. that said, if those posts bother you… unfollow! or block! blocking is not a mean or cruel action

find your niche, curate your experience, and you will definitely find people who support you. I've really enjoyed my time here and met many people i care about and respect, but it was a bit of an uphill struggle early on and i know a message like this from an established voice in fandom would have helped ease my own concerns coming into this space

[mystique-6]

Kinktober Day 10: Butt Stuff?(I refuse to use the name of the actual prompt as the title)

Summary: Astarion asks to try something very specific in the bedroom. Ailis agrees even though it makes her nervous.

Hello! My hyperfixation on Astarion has got me in the writing mood so I will be participating in Kinktober using @flightlessangelwings Kinktober list. The pieces may be part of a bigger fic(s). I have started the fic. If you like these pieces in this series, please consider checking out my main fic, This is Me Trying. (Can you tell I like Taylor Swift?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. I do plan on completing the 31 prompts though it will take me past October. I also have the fic posted on AO3.

Warning: Anyone under 18 do not interact. Please pay attention to the tag warnings below.

Tags: Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Lube, Enemas, Light Dom/Sub, Kissing/Gentle Kissing, Feelings Realization

Additional Notes: This fic involves Spawn Astarion and we are back to the sweet and soft version.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BG3.

            Ailis went to pick up the crate of washed dishes when she felt her ass be groped.  She whirled around to give the person a piece of her mind and found Astarion smiling at her.  He was clearly trying to stifle a laugh.

            “Hello, darling,” he said and then kissed her on the cheek.  She felt her aggravation slip away, but she didn’t want to completely let him off the hook.       

            “There are nicer ways to greet me, you know,” she said tersely.

            “I disagree,” he replied.  “Any chance to touch your perfect behind must be taken.”

            “I didn’t know it was you,” she huffed.

            “I don’t think Wyll or Gale would be brave enough to try it,” Astarion said with a smirk.  “Halsin might, but you most certainly would have heard him coming.”

            “Hmm,” she hummed and bent to pick up the crate again.  Astarion beat her to it.

            “I’ll get that for you,” he said and began to lead them back towards the center of camp.

            “You’re going to help with a chore?” she said.

            “Well, I am helpful like that,” he replied and she laughed out loud.

            “What do you want, Astarion?” she asked.

            “Darling, I’m hurt!” he exclaimed, though his broad smile suggested otherwise.  “Why would you assume I’d only offer help if I want something?”

            “Maybe because I have to badger you to complete camp chores when it’s your turn,” she said.  “If you’re offering me any kind of aid, then you want something.  Spit it out, Astarion.  What do you want?”  He set the crate don and pulled her by the waist into a kiss.  She smiled against his lips and snuggled in closer to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso.  When he broke off the kiss, he brushed a strand of her hair off her face and stared into her eyes tenderly.

            “I want to try something new with you tonight.  I’m not sure if it’s something you’ve done before,” he said.  The first time he’d said that to her, she’d scoffed and insisted there wasn’t much she hadn’t tried.  She’d been rather adventurous in her youth.  Her confidence had proven to be hubris.  She’d realized quickly that Astarion had much more sexual experience than her and there was quite a lot she hadn’t tried before.  He never once made her feel bad for not knowing something and he was always patient with her if she had concerns.  So, the prospect of trying something new with him now intrigued her.

            “What do you have in mind?” she asked, her heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation.  Astarion smiled as he noticed it and brushed his thumbs across her cheeks as he cradled her head in his hands and kissed her forehead.  She smiled.  He really wanted whatever was on his mind.

            “Have you ever tried anal sex?” he asked, doing his best to sound casual, but he was clearly anxious asking her.  Considering her racing heart nearly came to a dead stop at the question, she supposed she understood why he sounded a little hesitant.  She shouldn’t be shocked he was asking.  He’d never outright asked her before, or even said he wanted anal sex, but he’d hinted at it with words and touches.  She knew Astarion wanted in her ass.  She’d have thought, as a vampire spawn, he’d be more of a neck guy.  And right now, she really wished he was.  She wasn’t sure how she felt regarding anal sex.  She didn’t think it was wrong or anything, but the concept of it made her nervous.  That’s why she’d skirted around his hints before.  She couldn’t do that now that he’d outright asked her and was waiting on an answer.

            “No,” she said, drawing out the word.  “I haven’t.”  Astarion nodded, even though she knew he’d expected that answer.

            “Are you interested in trying it?” he asked.  He had his arms wrapped around her waist, but not so tightly she couldn’t break free of his hold.  He was giving her the choice to stay close to him or take space if she needed it.  For that reason alone, she didn’t pull away and reached up with one hand to gently tug at a white curl resting above his forehead.

            “I’m guessing you are?” she said, avoiding the question.  He smirked.  He knew what she was doing.

            “I’ve had anal sex before, Ailis.  Giving and receiving.  You know this,” he said.  She nodded.  She knew.  “I would like to try it with you, but I’m not sure how you feel about it, other than that it clearly makes you nervous.  Are you at all interested?”  She squirmed and tried to think of a way to divert the conversation, but her mind stayed blank.  She glanced at his expectant gaze and sighed.

            “I’ve never considered it before,” she said.  He didn’t look surprised.

            “Are you willing to consider it now?” he asked softly, running a hand gently up and down her back, trying to ease her tension.  She hesitated.

            “Won’t it be painful?” she asked, thinking about where his dick would breach.  The anus wasn’t the vagina.  It wasn’t designed to have anything go up it.

            “There may be some pain,” he admitted, “but with proper prep it shouldn’t be unbearable.”  She pursed her lips as she thought about it.  “Ailis.”  She glanced back at his face.  “Do you really think I’d suggest something that would cause you tremendous pain?”  That questioned settled it for her.

            “No,” she said.  “I don’t.  All right.  We can try it.”  He smiled widely at her and pulled her in closer for a kiss.

            “Meet me at our spot in fifteen minutes,” he told her and then hurried off.  She smiled fondly at his retreating figure until her eyes landed on the crate of clean plates. 

            “What an asshole,” she sighed, and grabbed the crate and headed back to camp.

            Fifteen minutes later, Ailis stepped into the abandoned building of the Last Light Inn that she and Astarion had essentially made their hook up spot.  He was already there, pulling a clean sheet over the mattress.  She saw he had supplies ready on the bedside table.  The bottle of oil didn’t surprise her, but she didn’t know what to think at the sight of the 2-liter bag attached to a tube and nozzle.

            “Hello, darling,” Astarion greeted her as he approached.  He pulled her into a kiss.  “Ready?”

            “I guess.  I’m nervous,” she admitted.  He gave her a soft smile and kissed her forehead.

            “That’s understandable, but you’re with a professional,” he said.  “I’ll make this a good experience for you.”  She smiled and leaned into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.  His own wrapped around her torso and he squeezed her tightly against him.  He kissed the crown of her head and they stayed that way for a moment, both enjoying the other’s presence.

            “Okay,” she said, pulling a way.  “Let’s get started.”  His lips quirked up in an amused smile.

            “All right,” he agreed and lifted the 2-liter bag of water up off the nightstand.  “Let’s get started on the prep work.  Do you know what this is?”  She was about to shake her head, but then paled as realization hit her. 

            “Is that an enema?” she asked appalled.  Astarion put down the enema bag on the bed.

            “It is,” he said evenly.  She could tell her was trying to keep her from freaking out, but also giving her space to have an honest reaction.  That was probably the only reason why she didn’t flee immediately.

            “Why do you have that?” she asked.

            “It’s part of the prep.  Anal sex can be messy.  Taking an enema first can fix that problem,” he explained.

            “So, you want me to…” She broke off.  She couldn’t finish that sentence.  “Is it really necessary?”

            “It is for me,” he said.  “I’ve had to deal with the mess before and it’s never been my choice.  I won’t do this without you taking the enema.”  His voice was firm, but he wasn’t arguing with her, or trying to be difficult.  He was just setting a boundary.  But his boundary was pushing at one of her own.

            “I…” She didn’t really know what to say.

            “Ailis, have you ever had an enema before?” he asked.  Her face turned tomato red.  Her instinct was to deny it, but instead she nodded, while at the same time, wrapping her arms tightly around herself in a self-soothing hug.  “I take it that it wasn’t a good experience.”  He said it softly.

            “It was not,” she said stiffly.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “I’m not going to make you talk about it, but I would like to understand why you are so averse to it,” he replied.  “Did it cause you pain?  Were you…”

            “It was embarrassing, okay?” she snapped.  “I felt shamed over it for weeks!”  She found herself pulled into a tight hug.  She slowly felt her tension ease and she unwrapped her arms from her own torso to wind around his.

            “I’m sorry you were made to feel shame over it before,” he murmured softly in her ear.  “I don’t know who administered one to you before, an old lover or your mother, but you didn’t deserve to be made to feel bad over it.”  He tipped her chin up to make eye contact with her.  “I promise I won’t do that to you.  We’ll get it done and over with and move on to more enjoyable activities.  It won’t be brought up outside of here.”  She believed him, but she still hesitated.  He played with a loose strand of her hair.

            “We also don’ have to do this, Ailis,” he said.  “It’s okay if you change your mind.”

            “But you want this,” she said.

            “I do,” he said, “but not at your expense.  We can do something else that you’re more comfortable with.”  She buried her face in his chest and he ran his hands soothingly up and down her back and stamped an occasional kiss to the top of her head.  She sighed after a moment and pulled back.

            “How do you need me positioned to administer it?” she asked.

            “You’re certain, Ailis?” he asked and she nodded.  “All right, then.  Come to this side of the bed and lie on your side facing the door.  Remove your pants and undergarment first.”  She did as he directed.  He adjusted her to be centered a little closer to the middle of the bed, and then hooked the enema bag to the bedpost.  She started to roll over onto her stomach and raise her hips, but he stopped her.

            “You don’t need to get in that position, darling,” he told her softly.  He gently pushed her right leg up until her knee was parallel to her chest.  She saw him reach for the oil and knew he was putting some on the nozzle.  She jumped when he fingers spread some oil around her entrance, and then tensed when she felt the nozzle nudge at it.

            “I need you to relax,” Astarion said soothingly.  “Take a deep breath for me.”  She did as he said and felt some of her tension ease from her.  At the same moment, she felt the nozzle slide into her and she made a face.  It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable.  And if this was uncomfortable, she couldn’t imagine how his dick would feel.  Her thoughts broke off from that though, when she felt water begin to flow into her.  She flinched and Astarion immediately climbed into bed behind her and pulled her back to his chest while murmuring words of encouragement in her ear.  She tried to focus on the words he was saying, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the odd sensation of watering flowing into her.  Her stomach began to feel full and tight and suddenly a cramp ripped across her lower abdomen.  She whimpered, and the flow of water stopped.  

            “Cramp?” Astarion asked.  She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut as another rolled through her.  Astarion lowered a hand to her distended abdomen and massaged it, trying to ease the cramp.  She sucked in a few deep breaths and finally her muscles relaxed.  “That’s it.  You’re doing so well.  You only have half left.”

            “There’s still that much left?” she whined.  He kissed her cheek.

            “It’ll be over soon, Ailis,” he assured her.  She sighed, but nodded, and he unclamped the tube.  She grimaced as the water began to flow again.  She began to curl in on herself as another cramp tore at her abdomen.  She felt Astarion reach for the clamp again, but she stopped him.

            “Leave it.  I want this over with sooner rather than later,” she said through gritted teeth.

            “But you’re in pain,” he replied.

            “I’ve felt worse.  Just let it empty,” she growled.  He sighed, but left the clamp alone.  He moved his hand back to her abdomen and tried to tub out the cramp.  After another moment the water stopped.  “Is it done?”

            “Yes, but I want you to try and hold it for fifteen minutes,” he replied.

            “What?  Why?” she cried.

            “To ensure your entire system is cleared out,” he said and she groaned.

            “Fine,” she agreed sullenly.

            “Do you want me to remove the nozzle?” he asked.  “You might feel more secure with it in.”

            “No, I want it out,” she said insistently.

            “Of course, darling,” he replied and she felt him gently ease it out of her.  She immediately curled up into a ball.  He curled around her and stroked her hair.  She tried to breathe her way through cramps, but they kept increasing and it wasn’t long before she felt the urge to go.

            “How long has it been?” she asked.

            “Five minutes,” he answered.  She whined.

            “I have to go,” she complained.

            “Try to hold it a little longer, Ailis,” he told her.  “Ten minutes isn’t as long as it feels.”

            “Easy for you to say.  You’re not the one dealing with these cramps,” she grumbled.  He kissed the top of her head.

            “You’re almost done,” he assured her.  She muttered a few curses under her breath and he laughed.  She tried to focus on his hands gently stroking her wherever he touched rather than on the cramps, but she was fighting a losing battle.

            “I can’t!” she cried.  “I need to…I’m going to…”

            “All right.  It’s all right, darling.  Go,” he said and she shot off the bed and out the door.  She didn’t even take the time to slip on her pants.  She just hoped none of her companions were around to see her. 

            About twenty minutes later, she rejoined Astarion in the abandoned building.  She saw he’d cleaned up and put away the enema equipment and she felt immensely grateful to him.  He looked up at her cautiously from where he sat on the bed and held his arms out to her.  She rushed into them and he pulled her down on his lap for comfort.  She buried her face in his neck and he held her tightly as he began to rock her.  It wasn’t long before she felt her nerves were soothed and she remembered why she’d agreed to that particular prep work.  And although she still felt nervous over it, she decided to move the night forward.

            She stamped a kiss to his neck and then his jaw and then the corner of his mouth.  When he started to smile, she kissed him deeply, moving a hand up to frame his face while the other tangled in his hair at the base of his head.  He held her tighter in return.  When the kiss finally broke, she leaned back and removed her shirt and upper garment.  She reached for the base of his shirt, but he grabbed her hand and stopped her. 

            “Not yet, darling,” he said and pressed a kiss to her palm.  “There’s certain logistics that need to be discussed.”

            “Such as?” she asked nervously.

            “I know you typically like to be face to face during the act, but it might be physically easier on you if I enter from behind,” he said cautiously.  She hesitated.  Since they had found their spot at the Last Light Inn, they had been able to expand upon sexual positions they enjoyed as she was less likely to be triggered looking down on a mattress than dirt that reminded her of her trauma.  That being said, her nerves were on fire.  She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of not being easily able to see his face.

            “I’m not sure,” she replied.  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” 

            “Do you think you can manage it while I prep you?” he asked.  “I’m not trying to push your boundaries, Ailis.  I just want to make this as easy on you as possible.”

            “I think I can handle that,” she said hesitantly and he kissed her again.

            “Stand up for a minute for me, darling,” he ordered and she obeyed.  She watched as he removed his shirt and then adjusted the pills on the bed.  When he had them how he wanted them, he guided her down onto the bed.  He maneuvered her so her hips rested on a pillow, raising her ass in the air.  He’d also arranged a pillow for her to hold onto if she wanted.  She wasn’t normally inclined to grasp onto her hide moans in a pillow, but tonight she thought there was a chance she’d need to.  She squeezed the pillow and tensed when she saw him take the jar of oil from the nightstand.

            “I need you to relax for me, darling,” he said, running a soothing hand up and down her spine.  “Take a few deep breaths.”  She did as he said and slowly relaxed.  She heard him uncap the bottle and then he parted her cheeks so he could access her more easily.  She stiffened again when she felt a cool, wet finger press against her puckered hole.  He pressed a kiss to the bottom of her spine and she took another deep breath as he played around her entrance, applying pressure, but not yet breaching it.  As she got used to the sensation, she finally relaxed completely and that’s when he pushed in.  She squawked at the foreign sensation as he slowly pushed into her and tensed.  She felt every groove in his finger as she clenched around it.

            “Are you all right?  Does this hurt?” he checked in.

            “It doesn’t hurt,” she replied.  “But it…it feels weird.”

            “Good weird or bad weird?” Astarion asked and she looked over her shoulder to see him grinning in amusement.  She scowled.

            “Just weird,” she replied tersely.  His free hand soothingly massaged the back of one of her thighs.

            “You’ll get used to the feeling,” he promised.  “I know if can be shocking the first time.  Now try and relax again, darling.  I can’t move without hurting you while you’re this tensed against me.”  She listened and took a few deep breaths.  This time, she also fantasized over their post-coital cuddling and her muscles eased up faster. 

            “That’s good, darling,” he praised and began to move his finger inside her.  Her brows furrowed at the strange sensation, but after a while, she did grow accustomed to his exploratory thrusts.  And it wasn’t awful.  She could feel a spark of interest between her legs, but the interest died when she felt another finger at her entrance.  He began to slide a second finger in with the first, and this time, there was pain.  She tensed and the pain sharpened as she stretched around his fingers.  She let out a sputtering gasp, and he stopped.

            “You need to relax, darling.  You’ll only make this painful if you’re this tense,” Astarion said. 

            “I tensed because it hurts,” she panted between quick breaths. 

            “It can be a little painful at first.  It shouldn’t be unbearable though.  I’ll use more oil,” he told her and removed both fingers.  She took the moment to suck in a few deep breaths and almost managed to relax before both fingers were at her entrance again.  They slowly pushed in, but even with the extra oil, there was still a slight pain from the stretch.  She focused on her breathing and tried to set her mind on a fantasy of the them together, but she couldn’t fully ignore the odd feeling of his fingers dragging against her inner walls in a part of her body she was growing more and more sure of that he didn’t belong in.

            “Tell him to stop then,” a voice inside her head said.  She opened her mouth to do so, but stopped.  This was something Astarion really wanted.  He’d asked her for this, and despite always being the one in charge of their sexual escapades, he rarely asked for anything.  She had to at least give it a fair chance, and in her opinion, two fingers were not a fair chance.  Two fingers were barely a chance at all.  So, she continued to draw in shallow breaths until his fingers were pushed fully inside her.  He stopped moving and she tried to focus her mind on anything but the ache caused by his fingers inside her.

            Thankfully, he also wanted her mind on something else.  He leaned over her and kissed her cheek.  He trailed kissed up to her ear and sucked the lobe into his mouth.  She gasped and couldn’t help a slight thrust of her hips.  The movement caused him to move inside her, but he didn’t give her a second to think about the slight pain it caused.  He used his free hand to brush her hair off her neck and began to kiss and nibble his way down her neck.  He then moved to a shoulder blade and pressed a soft kiss to it before he bit down, though not hard enough to break skin.  This time when she thrust down, there was enough friction to tease her clit and a spike of pleasure went through her so strong that even his fingers inside her felt good and she moaned.

            She felt him smile against her shoulder, and he started to move his fingers inside her again.  There was a slight sting as he pumped and scissored her open, but she was beginning to enjoy the feeling.  She experimentally thrust her hips back towards him and groaned as his fingers sunk impossibly deeper insider her. 

            “Mmm.  Yes.  That’s it, darling,” he practically purred.

            “Harder,” she ordered and he laughed but obeyed.  He thrust harshly into her a few times and she chased after her please as she thrust into the pillow and then back on his fingers.  She let out a frustrated whine when he removed his fingers completely.  She opened her mouth to complain, but her jaw snapped shut when she felt three fingers prodding at her entrance.  She tried to remain relaxed and focus on the pleasure she’d been feeling, but she couldn’t even think to move her hips to get friction as the sharp, burning sting returned worse than ever as he stretched her wide.  She bit her lip as her eyes watered and tried to bear it, but the pain worsened the deeper he went and she whimpered, feeling a tear spill over and down her cheek.  He immediately removed his fingers. 

            “Okay, Ailis.  I’m stopping,” he said in a soothing tone.  He tried to help her roll over, but she resisted.

            “No.  I’m fine,” she said, quickly brushing the tear away.  “You can continue.”  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him frowning.

            “Ailis, you clearly don’t like this,” he said.

            “I was enjoying it a minute ago.  I just need to adjust.  Now, come on,” she urged, raising her hips up to put her ass on display, trying to tempt him back into sex.

            “Ailis, sit up,” he ordered and she sighed.  She shifted onto her side and rested her head on her hand so she could look up at him.  He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and gave her a soft look.  “Why are you trying to force yourself through this and why do you want me to let you?”

            “You asked to try this,” she said, frowning.

            “Yes.  And you agreed to it,” he said, “but you aren’t enjoying this.”

            “I was enjoying it a few minutes ago.  I just…”

            “You were enjoying humping against the pillow,” he said.  “You were tolerating me fingering your ass.”  She scowled.

            “I didn’t tell you to stop, so why are you?” she snapped.  “You have the go ahead.”

            “Why would I want to keep doing something you’re not enjoying?” he said.

            “You like anal sex,” she said.

            “Yes, but I like you more and you don’t,” he replied looking completely baffled by her obstinance.

            “You asked for this.  You almost never ask for anything when it comes to sex,” she cried.  “So, I need to give this a fair chance.”  He stared at her with wide eyes and tugged his hair with his hands before taking a deep and unneeded breath.

            “I think you’ve given it a fair chance, Ailis,” he said gently.

            “A few fingers aren’t a fair chance,” she argued.

            “I think it is,” he said.  Angry tears filled her eyes.

            “Well, I don’t,” she replied.  “It’s not a fair chance until you get your dick in me and actually fuck me.”  The tears spilled over.  He brushed them away before she could.

            “I think we should stop, Ailis,” he said softly.

            “No,” she refused.  He sighed, but nodded.

            “I’m only going to agree to continue if you accept my bargain, all right?” he said.

            “What bargain?” she asked.

            “If you aren’t enjoying it after I’m inside you after three thrusts, we’re putting an end to this,” he stated firmly.  “I think we should put an end to this now, but I will continue against my better judgement if you agree to this bargain.”

            “Ten thrusts,” she bargained.

            “Five,” he returned with a sigh.

            “Eight.”

            “Five, Ailis,” he said.  “No more.”

            “Fine,” she snapped.  “Five.”  She flopped back over on her stomach.  He snorted.  She waited for him to resume prepping her, but he draped himself over her back and grabbed her arm and then brought I down underneath her and settled her fingers over her core. 

            “Touch yourself,” he ordered.

            “W…what?” she said.  He pressed their entwined hands down so her fingers put pressure on her clit.  She gasped.

            “Touch yourself,” he repeated, practically growling in her ear.  She mewled and began rubbing circles over her clit.  He removed his hand as she began to work herself over.  His fingers returned to her entrance.  She hesitated for a second.  “Don’t stop, Ailis.”  She continued and he sunk one, then two fingers back inside her.  She groaned, but any discomfort she felt was outweighed by the pleasure from the attention she was giving to her clit.  He thrust his fingers in her once, then twice, and on the third thrust, she pushed her hips back to meet him.

            The next time she felt him at her entrance, three fingers breached her.  The burn returned, but she continued to play with herself and after a moment, the burn eased and she fucked herself back on his fingers as he pushed into her and scissored her open.  Suddenly, he removed all fingers and she whined in complaint.

            “Sorry, darling, but I believe you wanted a change of position,” Astarion teased, rolling her over onto her back.  She reached up for him to pull him into a kiss and he humored her.  When he pulled away, he reached for the pillow under her and tugged it until she was positioned how he wanted her, with her hips lifted up off the mattress.  He removed his pants and undergarment and she saw his thick and turgid cock and felt a spark of anxiety.  It was far larger than three fingers.

            “You’re not going to fit,” she said.  He smirked, and she could tell he was stifling a laugh.

            “I’ll fit,” he assured her.  “Are you ready?”  She wasn’t sure, but she nodded.  His cocked lined up to her entrance and began to push in.  The burn was worse than each time before.  She bit her lip to keep from whimpering, but she couldn’t help a tear from escaping.  “I can stop, Ailis.”

            “We agreed on five thrusts,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

            “But if this is unbearable for you…”

            “It’s not.  Continue,” she ordered.  He sighed.

            “Try to relax.  And keep touching yourself, Ailis.  I didn’t tell you that you could stop,” he said.  She groaned and did as he ordered, increasing pressure on her clit to combat the burn as he pushed into her until finally, he bottomed out.  She panted as she tried to adjust to him.  Astarion was large.  Even vaginally, he was a lot to take, but she didn’t think she ever felt so full as she did right now.  She used the arm she wasn’t using to pleasure herself to wrap around his waist to keep him close.  He kissed her damp cheek and then slowly began to slide out.  He pulled back only about halfway, before slowly thrusting back in.  She took a deep breath and bore another two thrusts.  On the fourth her drew back farther, and she wrapped a leg around him and pushed at him when he thrust in, forcing him somehow even deeper inside her.

            They both groaned, and Astarion stopped holding back.  He pulled all the way out, and then shoved back in.  She felt the burn of it, but the sensation was almost pleasurable now.  The next time he thrust in she pushed forward to meet him.  One of his hands found hers and forced it to the mattress by her head, and held it there gently with his own.  They kissed sloppily, though passionately as they moved together, panting into each other’s open mouths as they joined together.  Ailis felt his rhythm start to falter and knew he was about to cum.  She was nearly there herself.  Tension was building in her core.  Sparks of pleasure shooting off like electricity as she played over her clit.  Muscles in her thighs and core were twitching and she felt her cunt start to clench.  She increased the pressure on her clit and her body jerked as she went over the edge.  All thought seeped from her mind as the world around her faded. 

            When she came back to herself, she noticed Astarion had stopped moving.  He laid across her torso, and was pressing gentle kisses to her neck.  She could feel him still inside her, though he was soft now.  He’d also found release.  She lifted a hand and carded it through his now messy, white curls.  He smiled against her jugular and then pushed himself up so he could look at her face.

            “How are you feeling, darling,” he asked.  His smile was fond and relaxed, but she saw caution and worry in his eyes.  She cupped his face in her hands and gently pulled him down to her for a deep and languorous kiss.

            “Never been better,” she replied when the kiss ended.  He smiled and stroked her cheek.

            “Did you like it though?” he asked.  “And don’t lie to me.  Please.”  She hesitated, and thought over her response.  She didn’t hate it, but…

            “Maybe we can relegate it to special occasions,” she said.  “When is your birthday?”  He laughed and kissed her again.  When he pulled back this time, he also pulled out of her and she winced.  He immediately moved down her body to inspect her entrance.  She grimaced as he probed a her gently for a moment.

            “No tears,” he told her.

            “I didn’t think there would be,” she said.  “You said you’d make this a good experience for me.”  He smiled and they kissed again before he rolled off of her and then pulled her back against his chest.  His arms wrapped snuggly around her.

            “Thank you for this,” he murmured in her ear.  She smiled, and snuggled back against him, trying to eliminate any space between their skin.  She started to drift off to sleep when suddenly her eyes shot open wide ad her heart began to pound against her ribcage.  The cold, icy grip of fear latched onto her as she realized what she’d been trying to suppress for weeks now.  What she felt was the absolute truth.  This was no longer a fling to her.  She loved him…and that terrified her. 

[spywhitney]

Thoughts on ships in The Bear

Sydcarmy (Sydney x Carmy)

I filtered out the tag weeks ago and I haven't undone it yet 💀.

98% of posts on my page in the last 6 months or so is to do with this ship- I've had a lot of thoughts about it.

S3 soured my opinion on it, and I've seen some eyebrow raising opinions emerge after s3 that are kind of wild, but sobering I guess?

But unfortunately I've hyperfixated on this ship now so I won't let go until it's over. So yikes for me I guess.

Like I've invested so much attention to it and the odds are looking terrible, but I hope it works out anyway?!?!

Sydrichie (Sydney x Richie)

It's the older man/younger woman trope. That's all it takes for me lol.

I read these fics when I'm tired of the above ship lowkey.

Their dynamic is so interesting to me.

If there weren't so many ****** **** ball sucking/suit licking on Richie while simultaneously trashing on Syd I'd like it a lot more (probably).

I was going to say how Richie treated Syd in s1 is what turns me off too, but I ship Syd with Carmen so, welp.

If they got together it would piss so many people off. Like the hater in me is cry-laughing thinking about how upset certain people would be lmao.

Wish we saw more of them in s3, it would've made so much sense too.

Sydmarcus (Sydney x Marcus)

Um, are the sydmarcus shippers even alive?

Y'all were done dirty. Y'all didn't deserve that man.

I never got the impression Syd liked Marcus however, but still.

If she did, they would've been so cute, like omg.

Marcus has had Syd's back the most and is arguably the only friend she has.

He treats her like a friend/overtly asked her out as more than a friend too etc etc.

The fact Syd didn't even acknowledge the fact Marcus made a dessert and named it after her is wild though.

Their dynamic has a healthy balance of reciprocation, exercised respect and care.

Obviously there are some that insist they should('ve) got together because they don't want sydcarmy which is ridiculous.

Then there's the "Syd deserves better" crowd which while I understand and somewhat agree, I also believe people choose what they deserve, so that's her business lowkey.

Saying all that I'd be all over Marcus. He's passionate, fine as hell and he's super chill?! Already climbing that man personally.

Claircarmy (Claire x Carmy)

I don't care about Claire, so it's hard to care about the relationship.

As much as the Claire hate is entertaining to me (and very valid points have been made about her), I'm pretty neutral on her for the most part.

I will say, the fact that their relationship has been shown to be perfect up until the s2 finale and Carmy calling her a waste of time was all it took for her to walk away is hilarious.

Like, if you can't deal with Carmy saying one mean thing about you, you're not ready to be with him girl lol (especially when compared with--)

The show pushes this a lot so if they're endgame fine, I just want that plot point to be done my goodness.

Carmrich (Carmy x Richie)

I've read a couple of fics and woah?

I like this quite a bit.

Their dynamic is so engaging in the fics I've read.

I almost feel like I don't appreciate their relationship enough in the show.

Sydluca (Sydney x Luca)

Kind of yummy if it was endgame, eh if otherwise.

I'm being dramatic, see my post here for more context.

The actor is british so maybe my bias is showing with this ship ngl.

He's one of the few actors I recognised also.

They look kind of cute, or whatever.

Fak x Richie

They have moments for sure.

I get it.

Marcus x Luca

I never saw this honestly.

To me, it was feel-good to just see a black man eagerly learning in a healthy environment.

I want Marcus for me though, like I said so lol.

Nat x Pete

They're canon.

They go well together, though I will say I don't have a strong opinion on them.

I guess since we don't see any significant conflict with them/they're very stable there's not a lot of emotional weight?

Nat x Richie

I felt some vibes here and there, you know?

They're sweet.

Richie x Jess

It would make sense as a part of Richie's arc.

Funny how some people that ship them based on a couple of looks hate sydcarmy with 3 seasons worth of interactions though.

Michael x Richie

I feel like I'd like this like camrich, but also it might break my heart, so idk if I want to see what's up.

Marcus x Chester

Chester was chill, shame he only got two seconds in s3.

Knowing Marcus had someone outside the restaurant who's supportive was comforting.

Tina x David

They were adorable in "napkins".

Makes sense they're married irl.

Tina x Michael

Felt a vibe for a split second when she talked about him in s1 ngl.

If she didn't have a husband atp--

Sydney x Claire

I think I saw a fic with this on ao3. Don't care about Claire, so you know.

Richie x Tiff

Clearly there's still love there, shame with what happened to them.

Carmy x Luca

I don't see why not.

Carmy x Chef David

😳 I mean, I get the appeal but in the context of the show, yikes. (Not that I haven't shipping something "worse").

[riordanverserpdatabase]

RP Community Courtesy Rules

Hello users!!! It’s come to our attention that there have been some pretty heavy controversies occurring here in our favorite place on the internet, and we wanted to try and do our part to help ease the tensions as much as we can. Let’s preface this post with a little disclaimer before we continue:

The Database is not a regulating body in the Tumblr RP Community, so these rules are merely a suggestion. We are in no way attempting to force anyone to follow them, or make any comments about those who don’t. We just want everyone to have a good time here, and figured evening out the playing field by suggesting a few courtesy rules would be a good idea. If you disagree with any of our suggestions, feel free to disregard our post!

Let’s get started!! Here’s what we have to say:

1. Respecting others, and their ideas.

With so many different people all in one place, you’re bound to see a concept or idea that you disagree with, maybe even one that upsets you. While it’s understandable that you might feel passionate about sharing that opinion (and you are allowed to) it’s important to remember that there are people on the other side of the screen reading what you have to say.

It is never okay to send hate, threats, or other negative things to a user because you don’t like their ideas.

Instead, vent privately to your friends, and block users who are making you uncomfortable so you don’t have to see the things that are bothering you.

At the same time, if you are planning on posting content that contains sensitive topics that tend to be controversial, please ensure it is properly tagged, and understand that you are likely going to make some waves. If you think it’s going to get some push back and you’re not prepared to handle it, keep it private.

2. Tagging with Courtesy

There are LOTS of ways to tag other users in our community. On pinned posts, in tag lists for starters or reblog games, and other places too. Remember that when you tag someone, especially on a pinned post, you’re connecting your accounts in a very public way.

It is usually considered rude to tag people without asking them first. If you are personal friends with them the rules become a bit more flexible, but otherwise it’s most appropriate to ask a user if they are willing to be tagged in something before you do it. This includes tag games, which some people prefer not to be included in.

Many people have a tag list, which is a list of users they’ve already got permission to tag in their posts. We love this idea!!

To aid in making this rule easier to follow, some blogs have started adding these permissions to their bios/pinned posts to make this easier.feel free to join in with us!

Tag games: yes/no

Roleplay Tags: Anyone/moots only/ask first/no thank you

3. Approaching angst carefully

Role playing difficult or sensitive topics is a great way to vent and explore, but sometimes having that directed at one of your characters directly can be a little difficult to handle.

Before starting an interaction that involves angst (such as characters fighting/venting/revealing traumatic backstories) it is polite to ask your partner if they’re comfortable.

You never know what kind of a day someone is having. This permission might change day to day, and some days it might just be a little too much. That also means this permission might change depending on what’s going on in their lives. Be patient and respectful with your Roleplay partners. Take care of them!

In addition, if you are an OC interacting with a Canon Character, and your OC had some kind of negative interaction or relationship with that canon character, understand that the person running that blog is not obligated to entertain your idea, just like you are not obligated to change your OCs backstory.

It is perfectly fine for you to disagree! It is not okay to harass someone running a canon character blog because of something they had no idea was a part of your characters backstory and had no say in creating.

4. Replies; timing and consistency

As frustrating as it may be, nobody here owes anybody else replies. No one is being paid to be here, and so no one is obligated to reply.

Replies may stop for any number of reasons, including:

- people getting busy with school/work/family

-someone becoming uncomfortable with the Roleplay

- a character’s direction changing

- someone feeling like the thread has gone on long enough

- having RP styles that are a little too different

Or even for no reason at all! If someone is not replying to you anymore, there is no need to go after them. They do not owe you, and you do not owe them! Entertain RP partners who give you the quality/speed of replies that you enjoy, and let everyone else mind their own business.

5. Replies pt. 2, the content!!

When replying to someone, the format can vary greatly from blog to blog. While there are no rules, since we are all here to have fun, here are some guidelines that make your replies easy and enjoyable to read!

Make sure that your replies are formatted so that your RP partner can tell which things are actions and which are spoken words!

Here’s an example of an unformatted reply:

Hey, did you want to share?

He smiled, holding out a bowl of candy towards you.

And here are a couple of examples of how you could more clearly format this so you can tell what’s spoken and what’s not:

“Hey, did you want to share?”

He smiled, holding out a bowl of candy towards you.

Hey, did you want to share?

He smiled, holding out a bowl of candy towards you.

“Hey, did you want to share?”

He smiled, holding out a bowl of candy towards you.

In addition to the formatting, content of replies is just as important! It is general courtesy to match the length and style of your role play partner, but it’s not necessary! You can role play any style you like.

However, role play replies should always contain TWO things: a response to the previous reply, and something for your partner to respond to!

It’s hard to respond to short or one word replies sometimes, and equally hard to respond to replies that only answer the last post and don’t continue the action. This can be really simple! Let’s do an example using Dean and Maverick:

Maverick sends a reply to Dean that reads as follows:

Maverick waved in greeting, one hand in his pocket.

“Hey Dean! It’s good to see you. Getting breakfast?”

A too-short reply to this might read like this:

“Hi Maverick!”

In this reply, Maverick’s mun is now responsible for moving the role play forward. They will have to write all the action, and carry the role play all on their own, while Dean’s mun continues responding by only reacting to the action happening in the replies.

For some people, roleplaying that way can be very draining and take the fun out of the responses.

Let’s format a reply that gives Maverick a little more to work with!

“Hi Maverick!”

Dean waved back, smiling brightly.

“Yeah I am! Do you want to come with me?”

See how in this reply, we’ve matched the length of the previous one, and given Maverick something to respond to? It doesn’t have to be a super long reply! All you have to do is give your partner something to do!

Now that you’ve made it to the bottom, we’d like to take this opportunity to remind you that these are only suggestions, and by no means are these hard rules. If you’re new to roleplaying, you may not have known that these are sort of standards of the community, and if you are having trouble getting replies and noticed that you’re doing one or more of these things, that could be the reason!

If you’d prefer to ignore this post and continue doing things the way you were, we’re more than fine to hear that! We love and support all our community members, regardless of their role play style.

We hope some people will find this post reassuring! If you have expressed discomfort with the way some of your friends are roleplaying, you are heard. Please be patient and kind!

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

The Usual | Levi Week Day 1 - Teashop

tagging @leviweek2023 💕

✧ word count ➼ ~1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war canonverse, marleyan reader ✧ comments: listen, i know i'm late for levi week because i'm dumb and didn't realize that day 1 started yesterday kdjfkdsjf hope my submission still counts 🥹

The first few weeks after the war was hard. While Levi couldn't say that it got easy, it was certainly better than sitting around pretending to live happily in a peaceful world that was the complete opposite of what he had grown accustomed to.

Now that he didn't have to be a soldier, Levi was forced to find other things to take up his time. Naturally, he gravitated towards his love for making tea.

Marley was oddly devoid of quality teashops, so Levi found his own booming in popularity pretty soon after he opened it for business. It was mindless work that helped him relax, even when it was fast-paced due to a lunch hour rush.

Most people ordered the same thing. He still enjoyed it since making tea always helped him calm his mind without fail, but it did get bland having to repeatedly make matcha or chai tea lattes repeatedly for 8-10 hours straight.

Levi's eyes flashed up as he heard the bell attached onto the front door ring. It was only 11am, so it was still a little early for the 1-hour lunch rush.

His eyes immediately came into contact with yours as you gave him a shy smile and a wave. He didn't return the gesture, but his body posture did seem to relax after seeing that it was you.

You were one of his strangest customers.

He was shocked and honestly thought it was a distasteful joke when you had come into the shop one day and ordered one of his more obscure blends with an annoyingly complicated name that you horrifically mispronounced with confidence. You had looked so proud of the way that you said it that Levi didn't have the heart to correct you.

It was a bitter and tangy blend, unlike a lot of the other more standard teas. It was harder to brew and used more sophisticated leaves that Levi was rarely able to find within the Walls. Even in Marley, which had active trading routes, the leaves were hard to get ahold of, so he was more than surprised when you unironically ordered it. Jumping to that blend from your daily order of a chai tea latte was something that he never expected. Now it was all that you ever ordered.

"They give you a day off?"

You weren't usually here around this time otherwise he'd already have your drink ready for you. That was how predictable your schedule was and how often you found yourself in this specific tea shop.

"Lunch break," you responded with a shrug. "Figured I'd visit a certain grumpy barista."

"Baristas specialize in coffee," Levi immediately corrected. "Just Levi's fine."

You shot Levi a small smile. You didn't regret that one day in which you waltzed in and decided to be adventurous and order the one thing on the menu that no one else seemed to ever pay attention to. You didn't miss the way that Levi's eyes flashed up and how he seemed to prioritize your brew. He enjoyed making it.

You weren't a huge fan of the taste, however. It certainly wouldn't be your first choice in terms of teas.

However, after a few regular visits into his teashop, you noticed how his grumpy demeanor would fade whenever you put in an order for that obscure blend that made you tempted to scrunch your nose when you first sipped at it. You picked up that he liked making it significantly more than the other blends, so you just began ordering it. You eventually grew to like it.

"The usual?"

You nodded, looking directly into his normally intense gaze that always seemed to be a bit softer around you. Your eyes lingered on each other for a bit without any words being exchanged.

Levi eventually cleared his throat awkwardly and broke eye contact with you to walk off to make your brew, unsure how to address what was happening.

You followed suit and took a seat at your usual spot on the counter, watching him as he began working on your drink. You noticed his slight limp that resulted from his injured leg that had mostly healed, although it could still get painful to walk on. You also noticed that he was missing nearly half his fingers on his right hand, but still moved more elegantly than you've ever seen anyone move before, even for something as simple as brewing tea.

You knew that he was a veteran in the recent war, but barely knew anything else about him. You made it your personal goal to get to know him better one day.

Your eyes fell on his again as he brought your drink over to you. You saw that his right eye was clouded, indicating that it had been physically damaged and your eyes lingered on his scars. Even from just a glance, you could tell that Levi had more history behind him than all the people you knew combined. He was certainly more interesting than your mundane coworkers that had nothing to complain about other than minor inconveniences in their lives.

The corner of Levi's lips twitched up ever so slightly as he saw the curious look you were giving him. He wasn't the biggest fan of how he felt around you: you made blood rush to his head, and made his heart pound as fast as it did whenever he was actively fighting a Titan. He didn't like it, but he couldn't keep himself from seeing or being by you when he could, even when all he knew was your name and your favorite drink.

You noticed the small smile that he had sent you, but weren't able to say anything before he turned around to begin addressing the other customers that had wandered in as the lunch rush started.

You were so mesmerized and lost in his movements and presence that you didn't even have a chance to notice that he never charged you for your drink.

[destiny-in-the-universe]

more updates! [rc9gn post]

currently working on something for an ask i received and let me just say, this is going to be incredibly chaotic lmao. also why does ao3 have such little tags for RC9GN, give me more i'm begging. it should not be this niche of a fandom!

that show had so much potential- but anyway, here's some more under-the-cut headcanons about our title lead Randy Cunningham!

Randy Cunningham Headcanons

Like mentioned before, this kid has Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder- specifically ADHD-C (which just means he has combined inattentiveness and hyperactivity)

Thanks to @mrfartpowered, Randy comes from a rich family! Though both his parents are workaholics and hardly come home which means Randy's left to his own devices

He doesn't fully know how to cook, but he knows enough basics to not completely starve when he's alone at the house- also because he and Howard eat out a lot at like, Charlie Cluckers and PJ McFlubbusters (?)

Randy literally doesn't mind paying for things because his family's kind of fucking loaded!

He has Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD) and struggles with not completely giving up in one-go when he fears he's about to be rejected, when he's about to do something wrong- it comes and goes, but there's no way he isn't a little insecure

He's developed a curiosity for law ever since becoming the Ninja. His parents are in awe about it because they think he's wanting to become a lawyer (he doesn't-)

Randy has always been an intense fan of the Ninja as we know from canon. He kept a lot of memorabilia over the years and never parted with it- he wanted to help people, deciding if it wouldn't be the Ninja, he would do other forms of service. Imagine his surprise when he's actually chosen to be the Ninja

He looks up to the First Ninja. Like, a lot

I'm trying to not accidentally spoil anything in the headcanons, but okay this has to be one of my favorites: you can't convince me that Randy wouldn't use more powers he found in the Shadow Warrior's part of the Nomicon

The Ninja Suit can only protect Randy from only some injuries- if anyone read my tengu! Howard fic, the suit will automatically have a defense/safety mechanism built in to heal any severe injuries/wounds- it sort of overrides the user and knocks them out (especially when it comes to near-death experiences)

If there ever was a time when a Ninja had to decommission early (coughs Mac Antfee coughs), someone else would have to be chosen- it's sometimes a hastily chosen decision but this rarely- if ever- happens. Somehow not many notices

Angst Headcanons

There have been times when Howard has needed to patch Randy up after some nasty fights- this one time Randy didn't make it back after a battle and he was found with a nasty gash, barely managing to stay awake and it freaked out Howard a lot

Randy sometimes uses the Nomicon to avoid his problems- it's become an unhealthy habit but he can't quite bring himself to stop

You can't tell me he doesn't dissociate. When Randy isn't actively doing his part in being the Ninja, he tends to space out a lot and he isn't all too present to say the least

This boy does have some scars. You can't convince me otherwise

He doesn't really question his self worth as the Ninja, but the thoughts still come sometimes- wondering if he's doing a good enough job, if the Nomicon hadn't made a mistake choosing him. It eats him up more when his RSD acts up

Randy does his best to impress Finja and feels horrible everytime he feels he's messed up. He doesn't like seeing others' disappointed (gee, I wonder why /lhs)

He feels responsible for others getting hurt-

I don't have much else to add, but let me just say I'll be doing another post soon! I have something kind of fun planned when it comes to the currently unofficial canon for Into the NInjaverse! I'm kind of hyped and all over the place today!

[skumhuu]

I've never had a Twitter, and I'm never calling it X, it sounds weird lol. What are your experiences as an Undertale/mature artist there? I'm over 18, so don't worry about talking to me. I write "spicy" stories and post my general fanart in Tumblr.

In general I wanted to ask because you seem open about Twitter.

No worries, no one calls it X either 😂

I like twitter more than tumblr just because it’s so easy to blacklist and mute things and I don’t have to tag every time I retweet something. It’s SO much easier to mute people/topics on twt, where on Tumblr you have to do a whole workaround that doesn’t rlly work I can’t just mute a person and not see them for a while.

And it’s fun to make twitter threads where you ramble about an idea/hc or even make a short drabble fic and get instant validation. I like the ability to ramble a lot. Also being able to post nsfw is nice. I have a sfw account too on twt under @skulevia, I just never use it 😂

Twitter or any soc media tbh can be incredibly stressful if you aren’t careful. You could find yourself doom scrolling for hours on end, or get sucked into an echo chamber of negativity. The way I handle twt is by using extensions to get rid of the trending tabs and other stressful news stuff, as well as muting tons of words for squicks/stressful topics. I also block a ton of people on there too.

I turn off notifs for comments and likes for people I don’t follow, otherwise I get overwhelmed by the attention.

Honestly, my experience in general being a mature artist is to just find a lil corner with safe people to vibe with and talk to when smth online gets under ur skin :0 Don’t bond with ppl over hate, and communicate with others

[ghostoffuturespast]

Writer Interview Tag 📝

Tagged by @luvwich. Thank you! These were fun to think about.

Q&A Below

When did you start writing?

For funsies, in 2022. I was working part-time then and had just binge read a bunch of fics. While I enjoyed what I read, none of them quite scratched the itch I had for more, so I was like guess I’ll have to write this story I want to read, yolo. As someone who hated writing growing up and all throughout school, I also figured it’d be good practice for me lol. Never fancied myself a writer until I started doing it. I sorely underestimated how much this hobby would consume my life.  

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I can get into just about anything, regardless of themes or genre, as long as it holds my attention and I think it’s interesting. I really enjoy reading non-fiction books though. Mainly science, history, ethnographies, or some mash up of all three. (That’s where the real money’s at.) They’re fascinating and can be very entertaining if you find the right one. Plus, it’s excellent inspiration fodder. Real life is often stranger than fiction, and real life is the primary source for all fiction.

I was in the book store recently and realized I had multiple Mary Roach books to catch up on. I very much wish I had more time and the peace of mind to read. Alas, modern society prioritizes The Grind™ and why is my house always dirty? Please feed me.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I honestly can’t say there’s a particular writer I’ve ever tried to emulate. Every writer’s got their own style and strengths, and the reason as to why I enjoy their writing is always different. They way I write is undoubtedly a mash-up of influences, but as for sorting them out myself… Eh. 

I’ve never been compared to anyone, which I’m fine with, much rather be known for just being me. But folks are free to share if they have an opinion on it though, I’m always curious to know what stands out to readers. Nobody tells me these kinds of things lol.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I bop around spaces a lot, but my primary spot is on my art table in my office. I have a desk for my computer lol, however I prefer the art table because it’s in front of a window and feels like a more creative space. Otherwise, I’m staring at the wall and sitting next to unopened stacks of mail and paperwork that I haven’t filed. I also like to write on my tiny porch with three different beverages when it’s not 8 million degrees outside or an arctic wasteland.

Sometimes I write at work when it’s one of those 10 hour days, I’ve finished everything pressing I needed to do, and I’m by myself in the office… Know your taxpayer dollars are going to a good cause and funding contributions to fan fiction. Willing to bet money I’m not the only government employee doing it either.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

For me, inspiration and motivation are two separate things that almost never happen at the same time, so my writing process is fairly compartmentalized. I’ll jot down ideas in my draft when they randomly strike then find ways to incorporate and string those ideas together when I actually sit down to write. “Muses” for me are less a choir of angels descending from the heavens and more my one brain wrinkle occasionally handing me a post-it note. 

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

As my supervisor likes to remind me, a theme needs to be a complete statement/sentence.

Topics/subjects/interests that appear frequently in my writing: violence, the inherent violence entrenched in colonial and capitalist systems, aikido, anthropology, nature is the answer, grief, intergenerational trauma, obvious and/or obscure references, callbacks, structural symmetry, body worship, teasing, the red-tape of bureaucracy, the sanctity of the mundane, being seen, self-acceptance, monsters and old gods, ghosts, the ancient and the archaic, personifying places, the poetry of paragraphs, grumpy characters, puns.

And I’m not surprised by any of these. I love (or love critically examining) all of these things.      

What is your reason for writing?

It is my greatest desire in this life to haunt people.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I love it when people take the time to comment at all, regardless of the type. Just the fact that someone took the time to connect is lovely! Most of the comments I get aren’t super in-depth though (I don’t get those analytical essays that I sometimes see in other comment sections) so the ones where a reader takes the time to explain what they thought, how they felt, or about what they noticed in my writing (even if it’s brief) are super special to me. It’s like “Yo! Thank you for seeing this thing I spent a bunch of time on. I appreciate and love you!” (cue spider-man pointing meme)

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

A friendly ghost.

I feel people tend to find me intimidating for reasons I don’t fully understand (irl and online, maybe it’s my resting ghost face). But, my dudes, I just wanna hang with you all. Truly. I know I’m bad at initiating conversation but please, I not scary. Weird for sure, but not scary.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Environmental descriptions/storytelling, action scenes, and big picture logistics. I get an idea for a story, sit down with it, and fifteen minutes later I’m rolling out full infrastructure blueprints. I got the plot, main story beats, and themes all mapped out. I’m good at assessing and planning, but also leave a lot of room to improvise too.

How do you feel about your own writing?

It ain’t perfect but it’s solid. Refining skills is a perpetual task. There’s always room for improvement, my writing’s gonna evolve over time, I’m gonna learn from other people; I’m okay with all of that.

Fuck proper grammar and punctuation though. It’s a social construct that I ain’t got time for. Linguistically I can do what I want because all the rules around that are made up too! I’m emulating modes of irl speech. As long as it mostly makes sense, I don’t really give a shit. Bite me. 

(Editors everywhere trying to strangle me.)

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Purely for myself. Sometimes I write something and I think “so-and-so would probably appreciate this” but, unless it’s a writing project for someone else or I’m designing it for a specific audience in mind, I don’t put stock into what other people want. I tell the stories I want to tell.

Tagging with no pressure: @shimmer-like-agirl @baublekute @scarlettspectra

@genocidalfetus @dani-the-goblin @fly-amanitaa

[the-real-sasuke-uchiha]

Hi Sasuke! You're more experienced at Tumblr than I am. I've had Tumblr for quite a bit but have only started posting recently. I got my first hate comments (I know, big milestone) on some of my posts by the same person. I tried to disprove them and such, and I'm going to make a post disproving it, but I was wondering what's the best way to deal with haters? Like, do I remove their comments, leave them alone, or block them? I was just wondering what you recommend and what you do. Hope you're having a great day!

Hi there! I am not that experienced though. But my general advice is don't get too worried, don't take it seriously and don't feed the drama. It is just a random person on the internet, they have no power over you or your life, so don't give them power over your feelings. Would an opinion of a random person you walk by in the street have any meaning to you? This is the same, just a random person walking by, with the advantage that they are not even physically nearby to forcefully take your attention. You are free to ignore at your convenience.

If someone sends me asks with hate/insults/obscenities I don't even finish reading, I straight out block and delete. Same with comments, I don't even know if you can delete them, I just block and ignore. Sometimes, hate is so ridiculous and surreal that it gets even funny. Take it with humour, really, never let it get to you.

This is about personal hate, of course. If the hate is directed towards a character or something I enjoy, I don't have any problem with that, I actually like discussing and I hate a lot of characters myself. Unless the character hate it is accompanied with condescend or veiled insults towards me, of course. It is just like in real life, you know? we can disagree, but we all have to be respectful. Otherwise, I have better things to dedicate my time to than entertaining rude bored people on the internet.

But this is me, I know some people have other preferences. Many people don't like to discuss and don't like to see their views challenged or their favourite characters criticized. Do whatever feels comfortable, really. Don't engage with someone because you feel compelled to. You are here to have fun, not to do labour.

Finally, something that helped me keep random haters away is tagging every post properly and using less generic tags. For example, I use "pro Sasuke Uchiha" instead of "Sasuke Uchiha" for my rants, so my posts are restricted to a more specific audience. I also use the "anti" tag when I criticize a character because I know some people have meltdowns if they see something they don't agree with. In this way, they can block posts that they want to avoid.

Anyway, stay safe and try to have fun despite the haters. Sorry for the long post, and take care!

[franki-lew-yo]

Two rants, one family

As someone who was scammed just last year by actual bots because the help I hired didn't know what they were doing, and then by actual grifters who told me everything I wanted to hear and took my money for my project promos and gave THAT to bots ---

I'm a little fracking tired of this idea that any online donations or transactions to small-companies MUST be scams because 'it's spammy'. Well then call it a 'spammer' then, not a 'scammer'. That's not the same thing.

It's not that scammer hand-outs don't exist. They do. They suck, but also they also don't last long. BUT- if you are ever in a situation where you've needed money asap and you're NOT an influencer with a huge audience, you have to get on track with dayly reblogging and self-promoting as much as possible. Otherwise, if people are anything like yourself when YOU feel like donating, people forget about you, they overlook your struggles, and they never even know you were having a 'sale' or a 'deal' at all!!

One thing that a lot of *bad* entrepreneur websites try to tell people, especially vulnerable people who can't pay for services that give them online marketing tips cuz that money needs to go to rent or food or pets or not dying, IS to flood people's inboxes from any blog they have (and any blog their friend has) to get the word out. They (crap companies who make all the 'free advice' or marketing garbage) tell a lot of people to do this and it's why a lot of n00b donation holders get dismissed as scams and/or bots -> because we get it, we're annoying and you don't want to be seeing us. Cept, UNLIKE actual scammers and bots, we don't have access to all your private information and we also don't want it. We don't have access to emails we get to fill up with crap. We/I have to do EVERY. SINGLE. THING. MANUALLY.

E V E R Y T H I N G-

Tumblr is the easiest website to use (at the moment) because of my queing system. You have to pay to que thing up on Instagram and Facebook. Yes. You do. Look it up. You do. In order to promo myself, my work, my brand, with little to nothing on me, I HAVE to do things manually. I hate it. I can't get good at it out of no where and with not professional training or, again, paying.

Just this last year I've had people on my TNBC comic blog be all "ugh can you not post this" or "can you just post tnbc". Quick solution to those folks: Use my tags -available to EVERYONE- if you JUST want to see my TNBC submissions. That's my blog as much as this one is and PARDON ME for wanting to promote my original artwork that I hope you'll give some attention to as much as my fanart for. I know it's hard to do/care about people's original work when you don't know/don't want to give money to something you don't know. I shouldn't act entitled to the reaction I want, and I'm not trying to.

But, personally, as an artist - nothing tells me "I don't care about you personally or your health/wellbeing" more than asking 'when's 'x' thing coming out?' again and again and AGAIN . . . And frankly, I've been slacking on reblogging as many people's fundraisers, commission prices and MORE because I was afraid of this kind of behavior. I'm sorry I have a life and maybe need a little help sometimes. I'm sorry my friends who are also writers and artists have lives. In the case of my TNBC blog specifically, I made that blog because I felt at peace and in love with my hyperfixation in Nightmare Before Christmas. Don't make me dread of associate these kinds of feelings with my hyperfixtion. Don't make me a moody-proody Jack Skellington who feels like no one understands me and just wants me to 'keep dancing'. Don't take this passion away from me.

You know that crapphrase that everyone says is Marilyn Monroe when it isn't: "if you can't take me at my worst you don't deserve me at my best" or however it goes? That one. The thing that sucks about that phrase, besides it not being from Marilyn, is that it's used and weaponized by shiddy gaslighter-type when it's not supposed to be about the right to be mean and get away with it. It's SUPPOSED to be a plea of acceptance. It's one of many philosophies that can be used for toxic self-care/self-harm, but in itself is not about forcing people to tolerate your bull. Believe me; I've been screamed at in real life and goaded into letting someone trashtalk me online because I was gaslit to 'sit there and take it' because 'I deserve it' one too many real times. I know what someone who truly does the "take me at my worst = me hurting you;disregarding your feelings" ACTUALLY acts.

If you can't take me at my self-promoty-cringey-social-justice-gawker awkward-autistic self, than you don't deserve me at my creative ~autistic gurl~ aesthetic self.

DM or PM me if you're having a legit problem and think something is wrong or I'm hurting myself/others/making an unwise choice. Other than that: cope. My blogs are my blogs.