#maybe you can prevent yourself from losing whatever you long for once more
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To no one's surprise, grief has become the central theme of my AU. Apparently I still haven't grown tired of exploring grief in my work.
Maybe this is just something I needed to write and I never realized it, projecting my own grief and pain into something tangible is cathartic.
#in the end here I am making Ganondorf of ALL fictional characters a mirror of my own grief#grief for a past that no longer exists#a home that you can no longer visit#For a family filled with kindness and love#always interpreted his greed as something of a way to fill that empty space#its not greed for the sake of the material#its a desire to fill the gaps and patch the holes left inside your heart#greed for power and control when everything else feels like its about to slip from your grasp#because if you're the one in command of everything around you#maybe you can prevent yourself from losing whatever you long for once more#and maybe deep down it isn't greed#its fear#and anger and anguish#or maybe its just grief#i am so far from the canon on this one but i am having so much fun!!!!! so honestly who cares~
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Clone Force 99 (+ Howzer) S/O Cutting Hair to Escape
Random idea of the boys having an s/o with long hair and needing to cut it to escape. No this isn’t me projecting because I have long hair. Not at all. No projection here.
Tw: Gender neutral (I try to be inclusive of all readers), violence, hair cutting with knife, threats, brief mention of death, all of the boys being sweeties tbh
This isn’t proofread so I die like a man
“Are you willing to listen to my terms now?!” The Twi’lek had her fingers in your hair, pulling tightly. It hurt, badly. And she wasn’t alone. There were a couple of other criminals around. All their own blasters were pointed at either you or the man you loved.
You swallowed, staring directly at your lover. His blaster was steady. He had good aim, but was he confident enough to take the shot with you so close?
You had a knife, but the armor the twi’lek criminal wore was too thick.
But your hair wasn’t. In one swift movement, you slice the strands of hair she had gripped so tightly. Once you had ripped yourself away, taking her off guard, your lover took the shot.
Hunter
Once you’re in his arms safe and the threat has been taken care of, he’s pissed. Not at you, but at the fact that this happened to begin with. His senses should have detected the threat and he should have protected you. Instead, you nearly got hurt because he was distracted.
If you’re super upset about your hair, he’s going to try and be reassuring. You still look amazing to him, but he understands if your hair is important to you for whatever reason. He’ll wipe away any tears and just offer comfort for such a loss. Yea, it grows back sure, but that’s doesn’t mean it’s any less important to you.
Hunter will struggle to look at you for a while. Not because he thinks your impromptu haircut is ugly, he just blames himself for what happened. He feels guilty he let something like this happen and It reminds him that he failed you.
Even though he’s upset with himself that he allowed this to happen, he’s so understanding and comforting to you.
Echo
He’s gonna fret over you and make sure you’re not physically hurt. He’s apologizing for letting this happen and not thinking of something to get you out of the clutches of a criminal. Like Hunter, he feels some guilt over what happened.
Once he knows you’re alright, then he’s gonna be heart broken for you and your hair.
He loves your hair. He loves playing with it. And he knows how it’s important to you. Even if hair grows back, he knows what it’s like to have a part of you taken. So he won’t judge your tears or emotions over having to cut your hair in such a way.
He’ll hold you and comfort you, giving soft reassurances.
Though, once your hair does grow back, he’s gonna suggest maybe tying your hair up to prevent something like this happening again.
Tech
He’s panicking until he knows you’re alright. He checks you over for any wounds and once he sees that you’re not hurt, he’ll hold you close.
He kisses your forehead and doesn’t even comment on your hair. To him, you just did a very clever move to get away from a criminal. It’s a shame about the hair, but you’re alright and that’s what matters.
Tech isn’t unsympathetic, he just won’t fully know you’re upset until you say something. He’ll offer what comfort he can but he might not entirely understand why you’re upset. It’s just hair, and even if he finds your hair beautiful, it’ll grow back.
You’ll probably have to explain why your hair is important and why losing that large amount of it upsets you. Once you explain, he becomes more sympathetic. Later, he’s going to do some research for way to potentially help your hair grow faster.
While your hair is in the process of growing back he also researches ways to take care of it. Like special oils, soaps etc. he’s a sweetie that way.
Wrecker
Might be more emotional than you, to be honest. Like Echo and Hunter, he’s upset you were grabbed by a criminal. But the fact that you had to cut your hair to get free? He’s beyond upset.
He is in despair. Wrecker loves your hair so much. He loves to play with it. Help you style it. He even learned to braid just so he could braid your hair (and Omega’s)
As your hair is growing back, he pretty much showers you in compliments. He knows how much your hair means to you and he’s gonna do his best to make up for what happened.
Even when it’s short he’s still gonna play with it to be honest.
Crosshair
He holds you so so tightly when you’re free. Crosshair will be shaking so badly. His emotions hit him waves. First was fear. Then relief.
Then rage. Absolute rage.
You’re his love. And you were in danger. You were forced to destroy something important to you in order to get free.
He’d feel useless. Like he failed you spectacularly. And now you were forced to cut your hair because he was too slow to react.
His anger over your hair is in connection to how you feel about it to be honest. If you’re emotional over the loss, he’s out for blood against the entire criminal group that did this. But if, say, you’re minimally upset and move on quick, so does he.
You wore it long because you liked it long. So he liked it.
But, bright side, if you end up liking your hair shorter, he likes it too.
It’s your hair. So how you like it, he likes it. He’s a pretty simple guy like that.
Howzer
Surprisingly calm. Once you’re free, he’s holding you in one arm and using the other to shoot down the other criminals. Once they’re down, his focus is on you.
He’ll pet your hair and feel where it was unceremoniously chopped off. After a second he apologizes so softly for being unable to help you.
However, he won’t directly say anything about your hair other than ask how you’re feeling. If you’re upset, he’ll hug you, and reassure you that it’ll grow back. It just takes time.
To him, he honestly prefers shorter hair just on the basis of it being more practical for battle, but if you like your hair long, just like Echo, he suggests tying it up or styling it in a way that’s more battle friendly. He’ll even help you with it.
Bonus:
Omega (platonic obv)
She’s going to cut her hair. She sees her brother’s lover sad over their chopped up hair? Welp, you’re not the only one who had their strands butchered by a knife.
I’d imagine her brother and you return to the Marauder with cut up blonde strands littering the floor and her looking so proud with her….new look.
#tbb x reader#the bad batch#clone force 99#captain howzer#tbb howzer#tbb hunter#tbb echo#tbb wrecker#tbb tech#tbb crosshair#howzer x reader#hunter x reader#tech x reader#wrecker x reader#crosshair x reader#echo x reader#arc trooper echo#star wars headcanons#tbb headcanons#tbb spoilers#reader insert#tbb omega
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>ageless and minors dni<
Fjsjsjn thank you for liking my work! I may write something similar again but it was when I was really early in the game and didn't know the characters well plus I escalated things very fast and didn't know where else to go from there.
Anyway, I'm used to virgins being the ones humiliated so this idea is definitely interesting to me. Had to think about who's a virgin and who would humiliate the reader. Decided to keep this one limited with characters cause I tend to get carried away
This can be read as either connected or seperate. Your choice.
Slutty MC X Azul & Sebek
Reader: is Yuu, you pronouns, gender neutral (if you want to read this afab pretend birth control is free and on it, unless you like the risk of pregnancy then don't)
Charactes: Azul (Sugar daddy & prostitution), Sebek (prostitution and hate fuck)
Content Warning: Humiliation, dubious consent and noncon in places, virginity loss, gangbangs, prostitution, everyone being problematic, Jade and Floyd wanting a turn in Azul's part, Sebek choking reader in his
Azul
It was a simple proposal. Azul at his desk with his cheeks bright red while you stand across from him with arms crossed.
"I'm sorry. What?"
"I'm your personal fuck toy and you pay me for my time." You lean forward over the desk with a smirk. "Or is a whore like me not good enough for you?
"D-do you really think I would be persuaded by-" Azul gulps. "I do not need your... services."
"Oh?" You chuckle. "You don't want a bit if stress relief? I can tell you're tense, Azul. When's the last time you got laid?"
Azul opens mouth to say something before looking away with a grimace.
"Won't tell me? Or is it cause you're a virgin?" You undo the buttons on your dress shirt and let it fall off your shoulders.
"That's none of your business." Azul refuses to look back at you. "I don't need some slut waltzing in here and distracting me. Go whore yourself out to someone else."
"No need to be so mean, Azul! You don't even want to take me for a test run?" You undo your pants/skirt, letting it fall to the floor.
"I don't- Why would I want a test run?"
You strip the last of your clothing and pull Azul's chair from under his desk. "I'm offering a free fuck. If you like it, you can pay me for more. If you don't, well you're not paying anyway."
Azul gulps as you sit down on his lap fully nude and right on his growing dick. "You fucking whore."
"Exactly. You can touch me however you want, use whatever hole you want, and cum wherever you want, even deep inside me." You take Azul's hand and guide it to your hole. "I'm all prepped and ready for you. What do you say?"
"Fine, you fucking whore." Azul stands, lifting you, and dropping you on his desk. "Prove to me you'll be worth the money."
You reach down, undo Azul's belt and zipper, and pull his hard cock from his pants. "Of course. For the next hour, you own me. All free of charge."
It doesn't take long for Azul to lose his virginity as he immediately shoves himself into you balls deep and ruts into you at a quick pace. You squeeze his cock and move your hips to meet each of his thrusts. You reach up and pull his face down to meet yours, pulling him in for an open mouth kiss. He'll never tell you how that was his first kiss as well.
Azul surprises you with his stamina. You expected him to many last a minute before he'd cum and make a contract with you. You didn't expect someone like him to be able to keep up. Even while sweat dripped down his neck and his breathing was heavy, he paid attention to you. Angled his cock in different ways until he found the right one that made your back arch. You reached down and began playing with yourself. Maybe you'd actually get to cum for once. Hell, you may even cum before him.
Before either of you can finish, the door to Azul's office opens and Jade and Floyd step inside. Azul freezes above you before trying to pull away, but you lock you legs around his hips, preventing him from pulling out.
"I- What are you-" Azul struggles to firm a sentence.
"I was wondering why your meeting with Shrimpy was taking so long." Floyd laughs. "We're gonna get a turn, right?"
"If Azul agrees to the deal, sure." You answer before Azul can.
"Oh? What type of deal?" Jade asks.
Azul grunts and begins thrusting into you again. "This slut wants me to pay them to be my fuck toy, but I don't think their holes are worth it."
"Aw, really?" You whine. "And let your friends leave with blue balls?"
Floyd takes out his cock and steps towards the desk. "Come on Azul! I wanna fuck them!"
"If they'll be your toy, won't that mean you can decide who they fuck?" Jade hums. "Think of all the customers that could attract."
"Mmm, yes." You moan under Azul. "I'll fuck anyone you want me to fuck. Any cock in any hole. Doesn't that sound like a good deal?"
"That's what you want isn't it? Azul ruts into you faster as he grunts and groans above you, making your legs shake as your core gets tighter. "You just want to be a cumdump, but you don't know how to profit from it. You just want every cock on campus to fuck you, don't you?"
"Yes! Make me fuck them all!" You moan and throw your head back as you cum around his cock.
Azul thrusts faster until his hips still, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his cum. "Fine, it's a deal."
Sebek
"Y-YOU PERVERTED HUMAN!!!"
With your mouth currently being occupied by a cock while you get spitroasted, you flip Sebek off in response.
"DO YOU HAVE NO MODESTY!?" Sebek's screams with a red face. "THIS IS A PUBLIC RESTROOM!!"
The men fucking you ignore Sebek. The one fucking your face pulls his cock out, strokes himself, and cums across your face and in your open mouth. The man fucking you behind finishes soon after, adding even more cum to your hole. Another man takes place, shoving his cock inside you and immediately rutting into you.
"Listen, Sebek right?" You lick your lips and look up at the half fae while the man behind you keeps fucking you. "I have a business to run, so either get in line and cough up some cash or leave us alone."
"I-I WOULD N-NEVER!!" Sebek stutters. "T-THIS... THIS IS SOMETHING YOU SAVE FOR YOUR SPOUSE!!"
"So you're a virgin? Well, virgins get a discount with me on their first fuck." You respond as the man behind you pulls out and cums across your back. "I'll even let you cut the line if it means it'll shut you up. Okay, big boy?"
"NO!!! I WILL NOT PAY FOR-"
"I'll pay for him." One of the other men says. "Would be fun to see him lose his shit."
"WHAT?!" Sebek turns to face the man who is already handing you the money. You count it and everything looks right. You step towards Sebek and place your hand on the tent forming in his pants.
"W-WAIT!!" Sebek's hands hover over your shoulders, unsure if he should push you away or... pull you closer.
"Shhh, enjoy yourself." You rub fingers along Sebek's clothed cock.
"Y-you vixen." Sebek mutters.
"Vixen? Haven't heard that one before." You chuckle, unzipping Sebek's pants and pull out his cock. You turn around, rubbing your ass against Sebek's cock. "Now, are you going to make me do all the work, or are you gonna prove to me that fae fuck better, huh?"
"Y-YOU HUMAN WHORE!!" Sebek shouts and grabs your hips. He thrusts his hips forward a couple a times, missing your hole each time. You reach back and help guide him. Finally, he thrusts forward and almost enters you fully.
"That's a good bo-" Your taunt is cut off by Sebek grabbing your throat.
"SILENCE YOU WHORSIH HUMAN!!" Sebek growls and starts fucking you hard. "HOW MANY HAVE YOU PLEASURED?! HOW MANY HAVE TAKEN YOU?!"
You try to speak but only choked out moans leave you. The heat that's been brewing in your stomach gets tighter.
"YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A LOOSE HUMAN HOLE!!" Sebek lifts your body off the ground, one hand wrapped around your throat as he uses his other arm to lift up your lower torso. His hips fuck you faster and deeper, pummeling your insides without holding back. Cum drops down your body and out of your hole(s), pooling on the floor beneath you.
You try reach your toes to the ground to get some stability, but each thrust has your legs shaking. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as choked moans escape you. It doesn't take long you you to cum around Sebek's cock, back arching as your hands grip at the one choking you.
"With how loose you are, I'm surprised I felt you cum!" Sebek groans in your ear, not letting up on his rutting. "A WHORE LIKE YOU DOESN'T DESERVE MY CUM INSIDE YOU!!"
Sebek fucks you even harder but then suddenly lets go of you, dropping you on the ground. You gasp for breath as Sebek strokes his cock above you. You flip yourself over, laying on your back, and Sebek steps above you, stroking his cock. You're barely able to mumble a single word when Sebek finally cums, painting your face and torso.
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I hope this isn't too personal. If it is, I apologize and you can obviously ignore it! But you've mentioned how there was a period where you were going through some stuff and stopped writing. I had the same thing happen, and things are better (yay for both of us getting through Stuff), but my writing still hasn't come back, and it's been years. I know you said BG3 itself helped bring it back, but did you do anything to help force yourself back into writing mode? Just wondering if you had any tips or anything. Thanks!
hey anon, I'm really sorry to hear that you're struggling to write. I'm going to do my best to answer but I've found writers block to be a highly personal thing so I'm not sure what I did works for everyone!
I've had two periods of writing block - one was years long due to having a high pressure university degree and then general life stuff after (18-26) the other was due to depression and something in a fandom upsetting me to the point where I didn't want to interact anymore.
So the first piece of advice I have is, work out what the root cause of the issue is, and address it! Which sucks! It's basically therapy! It feels very silly to even be advising it. But for my first writers block I realised I was putting too much pressure on myself - I wanted everything I wrote to be Meaningful and Perfect - so I devised the silliest and most entertaining writing project I could ever imagine for myself and got rid of expectation, and this broke through the block entirely. I began thinking of writing as a hobby I do for fun rather than a vocation or future profession, etc. I came to this drug late, so people who've been writing fic for longer probably won't find that novel - but I did! For the second issue, I took a break and then I readjusted how I interact with fandom. I probably seem quite antisocial at times to others, but I've just changed my boundaries to make it so I'm comfortable and so I keep writing. I realised that I didn't like the grounds on which I'd been operating on ao3 so I changed them - the block shifted again.
Often, it's not the writing that you're struggling with, necessarily, it's something else in the mix that's preventing you from doing it. See if you can find out what that is!
The second part of your question is 'how do you force writing back'... I don't think you can, honestly. Placing pressure on yourself, I've found, always backfires. But my advice for getting started writing again after a break is as follows:
Make a really fun project, as silly or cringe or self-indulgent as possible. Something you are genuinely excited about putting down on paper. Something that feeds you specifically. from a favourite maladaptive daydream, to a silly one shot, to a laundry list of all your favourite fictional things.
If you feel like you literally can't write sentences, bullet point something instead. This means that you won't feel guilt about losing the idea you've had, but also i've found that whenever I return to bullet points, it's easier to start writing bc it's not a blank page. Whatever your notes are, I promise they will be useful. If you write them in a low energy time and come back to them at a higher energy time, even better, bc past-you has literally set up a little springboard for you once you have the bandwidth to jump!
Reduce pressure. This one is very personal so it'll seem vague. Reducing pressure could be not publishing anything until it's finished. Reducing pressure could be publishing or sharing with friends immediately, so you get support and motivation to help you keep going and don't feel like you're working alone. Reducing pressure could be to pick the easiest project you have first, so you do something that maybe feels simplistic at the time, but it helps you build confidence for facing more ambitious projects later.
I don't know if any of that is helpful, but I've honestly found that for me, keeping writing as fun as possible has been what allows me to keep doing it. Any time I feel anxiety or stress creeping in, I try to remind myself of that by any means necessary.
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Hi there! I'm writing this in hopes that you'll have some advice. Lately I've been struggling a lot with concern for climate change. Mainly because I fear that I won't have a future, that when I'm older I'll live in a planet where you can't even go out because of the heat and everything is completely destroyed. And it's been affecting my day-to-day life. And no matter how much I try to avoid bad news they'll show up to me and I relapse into the anxiety and lose all the progress I made.
The bad news and the things that are happening (for example this thing going around of flowers growing in cold places, the one that probably worries me the most) make me feel like maybe the good things won't be enough and I won't have a future, no matter how much I hope. All I want is to be certain I'll have a life and things will get better
Do you have any advice to stop feeling this way? Thank you in advance!
Hi there. So firstly, thanks for reaching out. Anxiety can make us want to isolate ourselves and so you’ve taken a brave first step in seeking connection. I felt like you feel for a long time, and still do sometimes. It can feel like the change is so huge, so rapid, so irreversible, and human responses so weak, so slow, so apathetic. But I’m here to tell you that however reasonable being frightened is, it doesn’t have to be the end of the journey. Grief and fear are a good start for your environmental affect, because it means you’re keyed in and you care. But stopping there will only paralyse you.
I know the good things feel small, which is why it’s important to bombard yourself with them so you get a sense of just how much momentum we are building in the movement right now. I regularly check out Positive News and the Good News Network, and follow Sam Bentley and lots of ‘weekly earth win’ type accounts. When you see how much plastic people are clearing out of the ocean, how much solar and wind prices have come down, how Paris is now full of cyclists and London’s deaths from air pollution are reducing, how Europe is slowly rewilding and land is being returned to indigenous people, you realise that quietly, determinedly, good is happening in the background. And you aren’t always not seeing it just because it’s smaller or less important - bear in mind that the media sells on engagement, so attention-grabbing disasters will always hit front page news. It’s hard to quantify people who are alive who wouldn’t otherwise be, oil in the ground because people stopped a pipeline. Justice is often less hypervisible and sudden than injustice.
For me personally, taking action and spending time with others who are doing the same is the single biggest thing that cured a lot of my anxiety. Depending on your age, income, profession and health, I would recommend doing whatever is accessible to you of eating as much plant-based food as possible, reducing your use of aeroplanes and cars to as close to zero as is reasonable, making sure your stove, heating and hot water is being powered by electricity, switching to a renewable tariff, attending regular activist meetings and the protests and public debates these will lead you into, buying fewer clothes, single-use plastic items and other non-essentials, lobbying for change at your workplace, your university or your school, and bringing the subject up as often as you can with friends and family, so discussing climate change becomes more of a cultural norm. (I always find with these conversations though that scaring people is deeply counterintuitive and encourages them to get angry with you and bury their heads deeper in the sand. Why not start a conversation about how much healthier you feel when you eat lentils, or how transnational rail is making a comeback, or how exciting it is what they can do with solar and battery storage these days, or the amazing flood prevention benefits of reintroducing beavers?) I saw a tweet once that said ‘I bet 80% of your climate anxiety will disappear if you work full time on climate.’ Now I don’t work in that sphere yet, but I’m currently retraining, and I have to say a lot of my anxiety has quietened knowing that I am doing all I can and will continue to do so for the rest of my working life. And don’t feel like your skills or educational/professional background hold you back either: solving this crisis isn’t just for scientists and can’t be left to only one sector of society. I was an English Lit grad - now I’m hoping to work in campaigning, comms or social policy to make positive change for the better around climate. If it’s possible for you, I’d recommend starting to consider entering the green sector full time. Just watch out for corporate greenwash!
I know that changing your individual lifestyle isn’t going to save the planet, but it might just save you. Once you feel you have done everything you can in your personal life, it might embolden you to show up in activist spaces, to connect with other people who care, and to remember that as terrifying and agonising as the changes we are causing and witnessing are, there is always still hope, and it is easy to create and nurture that hope if you only keep hold of the right narratives and connect with the right people.
I’ve answered some similar asks on this sort of topic, so I’d recommend scrolling back through my blog and reading them, and also following as many solarpunks as you can across all of social media. Solarpunk Presents podcast does a good job of drawing your attention to the good stuff already happening now. Stay safe, take care of yourself and remember you have so much to offer. We were all born at the most pivotal time in human history. That is a burden, but it’s also a gift. We can have the most impactful and meaningful lives to date, and I think we will. But the fight has to start now, and that means we have to be ready for it. You can’t strive for a better tomorrow if you can’t imagine it, so take some time to look after you and really douse yourself in hope and optimism - it’s out there waiting to be found, if you only look in the right places.
#solarpunk#hopepunk#cottagepunk#tidalpunk#lunarpunk#turbinepunk#environmentalism#social justice#community#optimism#bright future#climate justice
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BEFORE I FORGET AGAIN here are all the notes from our latest brainstorming stream ~
“What If Beauty Could Literally Steal Your Breath?”
Random Thoughts
We see something beautiful to us, we start turning blue and suffocating; can cause death if not treatment, stop exposure, etc
Beauty is subjective; different things would affect different people
Could be scenarios where only a certain type of beauty e.g. a person’s physical beauty is causing the affliction; could also be all forms of beauty
People could be suffocating over – movies; books; video games; faces of their children or loved ones; landscapes; paintings; music; different genres of music; smells –
Could smelling a rose kill you?
Concepts or ideas can also be beautiful, they could also affect certain people
Dating will be awkward and potentially dangerous
Spending time with loved ones could become very difficult
Oxygen tanks
Could the breath stolen by beauty be collected and used for e.g. filling oxygen tanks; spells; etc
Would whatever steals the breath (if it’s not a natural affliction) gain life or improvement in life?
Can different levels of beauty affect differently; cute kitten video make you wheeze a little, but looking at Mt Fuji could make you faint – but again, different for different people
If it’s a natural affliction, symptoms similar to asthma attack (mild to severe); probably no ‘breath collected’
If it’s a nefarious e.g. curse, maybe built into the spell for breath to be collected, or the caster of the spell needs to be nearby
Could also be affected by dreams in your sleep – wake up gasping and/or dead
Smell of the air beautiful – infinite loop
If find yourself extremely physically attractive, could you be affected?
If simply like your looks, could you be affected?
If you have a healthy relationship with yourself and ‘love yourself’, could you be affected?
Plastic surgery to diminish looks to stop hurting your loved ones; would that work? Your loved ones love you, not how you look; beautiful due to personality/soul, beautiful no matter how you look; could be tried in pandemic scenario but found to not be very effective?
Soul surgery???
Does love equate to beauty? Depends on situation/scenario/different people – so subjective
What if it’s only beautiful humans that cause the affliction, not art, nature, etc?
What about the poor people who find something beautiful in everything?
Use as an excuse to get out of e.g. classes – I find the language beautiful!!!
If you do find a particular language beautiful, hearing it would affect your breathing; limit the places you could travel
What about the poor people who find Vtuber feet beautiful??? WHAT ABOUT THEM???
Favourite food could affect you – would no longer be able to eat it
Some people not affected by any beauty at all
How powerful a spell would be required to make a singular person lose breath at the sight of beauty? What about many people at once? If it’s a powerful spell, it might take a novice a huge amount of power, but a master might be able to do it with a click of their fingers
Curse scenario – how painful is it to lose breath? Depend on strength of that particular spell; drawn out of lungs and can’t breathe it back – very distressing; how long does it last? Until death? Just until they have the breath currently in your lungs? Not preventing from breathing in again?
Natural affliction scenario – similar to asthma, other breathing conditions; painful and distressing to that degree
Maybe doesn’t cause any huge health issues – just annoying; causes huge cough, like getting the wind knocked out of you, but no more permanent damage
Two types of fear – one associated with feelings of suffocation without a way to stop it, other is everything else – IF THIS WAS A CURSE SCENARIO this might be quite pertinent, some sort of reasoning behind this curse?
WHAT IF a beautiful person was cursed so everyone who sees them gets the air pulled out of their lungs?
Is breath close to life in some religions; could there be religious implications
What if it’s widely believed those affected – it’s not their breath being pulled out of them, but their soul? What would that lead to – discrimination against the ‘soulless’ sort of thing
THE PLAUGE
Concept for counterbalancing a superpower –
Most beautiful person in a village being accused of being a witch and stealing someone’s soul
Beauty trials instead of witch trials
IN THE CURSE SCENARIO – maybe the curse only works if you see the cursed person’s body directly and wearing 100% covering counters the curse – full long-sleeved dresses and full face-covering veils very popular and sensible
A Medusa situation
Curse scenario – curse only takes oxygen out of someone’s lungs in a manner so they do not realise they are suffocating
What if beauty replaces the oxygen in your lungs with something else (e.g. macaroni; roses); beauty gas replaces?
Roses in the lungs disease; a major fanfic trope; cough out petals if you’re bottling your love feelings; either confess love or forget about the person you love; if untreated leads to death
Beautiful voice can steal your breath
CURSE SCENARIO - If a person’s ambition is perceived as beautiful and they curse someone and steal their breath, would their own ambition, etc, become more beautiful
Beauty as a power without using the overused trope of charm is a good idea
Could this be a superpower – your face/voice/personality/etc can steal people’s breath – how could you use this power; what difficulties will you face in life; etc
What would the embodiment of beauty be?
Would you know you find someone you like if you lose your breath? Probably a good indication
World ugly-fying filter for extra sensitive people so they can leave the house
CURSE SCENARIO – sorcerer collecting breath so their idea, dream, ambition, etc, gains so much breath it can will a body/form into existence, become personified; could someone literally make a god?
CURSE SCENARIO – what if when you steal someone’s breath, you take it for yourself, increasing your own beauty (in the eyes of your society)
Breath transfusions
Iron lungs – beauty industry evolves around accessories and mods for iron lungs, etc
Could pets, animals, (plants??) also be affected?
Mosquitos would go extinct??? Blood so beautiful???
Use of robots and AI for art; become cyborgs to avoid art and beauty
Beauty deities could die out from declining numbers of believers
What if being ‘ugly’ can fill someone’s lungs with oxygen?? ‘Ugly’ people become saviours
Photo of ** become a creepy pasta/urban legend, but actually true
Beauty is a Lovecraftian eldritch being that gains power from each breath taken
Are lungs and gills equal? If not, research into humans developing gills and becoming amphibious
If two ‘ugly’ people dated, could they permanently live in space/water if their lungs are constantly filling with oxygen?
Mermaid HRT (hormone replacement therapy); need to know actually afflicted by disease and it’s not a fetish; or heart transplant – WHAT ABOUT THE MERMAIDS
What if people get systematically tested for what type of people (or other things) they find attractive and what archetype of beauty they are – like blood types; medical update during yearly physicals, etc, part of regular blood tests, monitor changes as grow
Sirens – become what we individually find most attractive; sirens stealing breath?
Pinocchio-like – become more of a ‘real person’ by being the most beautiful, gaining the most life/beauty/etc; ‘contest’ between unscrupulous sorcerers to gather the most breath/life/beauty
SHOW IDEA – near extinction of human males; all boys captured and on government-mandated dating shows – MAKE IT A ROMCOM
Treatment for curse – depend on strength of the curse; whether it’s short or long term; are there any antidotes? If not, at the mercy of the sorcerer
If a mental health or other disorder due to chemical imbalances or other difficulties in the body, treatment similar to other mental health/respiratory diseases – drugs, CBT, relaxation, decreasing stress, etc
Potential of social pension, etc, if afflicted by this – if it’s a rare thing, probably; if it’s a pandemic, no
Family issues – parents not being able to raise their children, unable to spend much time with them, affect on the children emotionally, developmentally
Spending infancy in opaque incubator; light cycles and stimulus provided within?
Would baby beauty affect all people or just family – could all babies be raised in a box? What age would they come out?
Insurance issues
Importance of visual beauty decreases, leads to auditory beauty being the most dominant form, which in turn leads to auditory beauty causing more problems; need to soundproof incubators, etc; deadly loop
ID cards – fingerprints, etc, instead of faces
Difficulties getting medical treatment?
So in love willing to die for each other – toxic relationship
Logos not exist since someone could find it beautiful
Beauty could become something like alcohol, cigarettes, recreational drugs – people know it’s dangerous, but do it for the euphoria
Compare ‘beauty tasting’ to wine tasting
Beauty battles- UNBREATHE
Disease would produce many forms of ableism – taunting due to avoiding beauty, etc
A Rare Affliction
Mental health disorder; when affected by beauty, body seizes up, affects the trachea and the lungs, etc, creates asthma-like symptoms
Permanent or a curable affliction
Could be related to neurodivergence
Minimise exposure to beauty; need to find out exactly what you find beautiful in order to avoid it
If found self beautiful and were affected by it, get rid of all your mirrors!
Minimise contact with family and friends for your health
Lead to depression
Treatments – if natural, inhalers, relaxation therapy, etc could work for mild to moderate cases; difficult to treat severe attacks; if it’s a mental health disorder or chemical imbalances causes breathing difficulties, probably some kind of treatment
What kind of treatment if it’s a curse
Like many disabilities, chronic disease – live your life, but need meds, assistance tools, regular care, etc
A Global Pandemic
Pandemic cycles as beauty standards change to something once believed safe
People naturally start finding other things beautiful that once they didn’t find beautiful in a self-preservation reflex, but now THAT’S beautiful, so that starts affecting them, too = cycles
Beauty becomes suppressed in all its forms
Oxygen would become a black market item; ridiculously expensive and hard to get; hoarded
“Beautiful” people encouraged/forced to wear masks, etc
There will always be a “most beautiful”; doesn’t matter how ugly masks, clothes, etc, are; logical conclusion (in the beginning) is to try to avoid beauty
Some people would try to capitalize on the situation – selling oxygen at high prices; if the curse scenario, collecting all the oxygen and selling it again;
Military uses – send something beautiful to the enemy to act as a debuff
Selling diet air for a good discount
Small percentage of people immune and run secretive beauty clubs; poetry readings; in dystopian future sort of thing
IN THE BEGINNING – preventative measures; increased respiratory clinics everywhere; warnings outside of art museums, libraries, famous natural sites, etc
Only so much preventative measures can do – when beauty is so subjective (people could be dropping with every rainbow) and the beauty cycles that are starting
‘Beauty’ starts being controlled; libraries, galleries, art and creative expression in general start being suppressed; to many restrictions; and eventually outlawed
Libraries would be burned; book bonfires; art bonfires; musical instruments bonfires; natural world desecrated – ALL IN THE SAKE OF HEALTH
No one able to appreciate things like fine dining any more; fancy chefs out of a job
People not affected by beauty at all in a prime position to EXPLOIT
A curse gone out of control; evil magical people exploiting it stealing breath
Surge in kidnappings – can intentionally use beauty to knock people out and kidnap them
If it’s only people you find beautiful that causes the breath loss, what if everyone is only affected by those genders you are sexually attracted to? Is it just sexual attraction or is it romantic attraction, as well? (does not include family members, etc, that you love and find beautiful)
HUGE EFFECT ON POPULATION
What does society look like in 100 years if this beauty pandemic is ongoing; if all forms of beauty – becoming a drab bunker society in which creativity is shunned, all forms of beauty shunned, self-expression punished; secret beauty club for immune people; black market in beauty for those willing to risk their breath just to experience beauty; probably rebellions brewing (or constantly being stamped out) in this bunker society
What would happen with the beauty industry?
Beauty as a drug and erotic asphyxiation being common; like strip clubs but removing masks not clothes
IF BEAUTY STEALS BREATH AND UGLINESS GIVES IT (societal norms) – eventually what is beautiful and ugly might completely swap; cycles
Everything becomes very bland to prevent declining population – population and crowd control through beauty
Self harm increases to diminish beauty and protect others – no one would want to be beautiful; what about cycling beauty standards, things that are ugly would soon become beautiful to most people
Dystopian beauty soldiers
Movies, tv shows, etc, temporarily banned until beauty standards switch around; keep cycling
If you'd like to write anything inspired by our lovely and mildly disturbing brainstorming session - be it a six-word story, a sentence, a drabble, a paragraph, a poem, a play, a short story, a novella, a novel plan, or something else entirely - please, write it and share it with us! If everyone is comfortable with making a Scribble Hub account, this might be a good way to keep all our writings together (please don't panic about cover art - any random free-to-use picture related to your story is perfectly perfect). Please use #MacGuffinsUwrite in the synopsis, and perhaps include an @moonfeatherblue just to grab my attention! If you're not comfortable with Scribble Hub, don't worry! Please post where you are comfortable, use the hashtag, and maybe let me know with a VOD comment so I know to track it down.
You'll have a little longer this time around due to Blue's family holiday adventure coming up - I'll be reading all your stories on 6 May at 10 am aest (assuming all goes to schedule). If you could try to have your stories posted by the day before, that would be very much appreciated 💙✨
#writing#indie vtuber#brainstorming#creative writing#macguffinsuwrite#blue mooney#moonfeatherblue#writeblr#vtubers of tumblr#envtuber#writers of tumblr#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#english vtuber#writing vtuber#what if beauty could literally steal your breath
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Diegetic XP for Gold
XP for gold is a staple of old-school play, and for good reason-- it drives the players to explore dangerous locations and tends to encourage cautious, smart play over reckless engagements. But as excellent of a gameplay mechanic as it is, it doesn't offer the strongest diegetic explanation by itself. Not that it needs to, of course, but one of the things I've been thinking about with Lore24 is how the mechanics of the game influence the feel of the world I want to build. So with that out of the way, here are some diegetic XP for Gold options
Training - Track down the ancient masters that can take you to the highest levels of experience.
Biopunk - Buy exotic potions and augmentations. Pay for experimental procedures. Grapple with the Ship of Theseus that is your body.
Wealthiness is next to godliness - The gods favor those who hoard their wealth and bestow powers upon them. Keep the rabble away from treasure, lest they seize your power!
The dungeon acknowledges you - The more wealth you remove from the dungeon, the more it is impressed by you, and the more it wants you dead. Your powers wane and you lose experience if you are away from the dungeon for too long.
Gold is imbued with the blood of the Ancients - Transfer the blood into your body to gain their power, provided you have access to the necessary rare and ancient machinery. The last remaining Ancients will grant you some of their power in return for the other long-lost treasures of their time.
Fame is power - Throw increasingly more expensive parties in your honor to spread your name across the lands and convince Fate to turn its favor on you. Celebrities are like minor gods.
Pay to win - Your life is dedicated to grinding for the in-game currency that will allow you to ascend to ever higher levels. Whales galavant about with their purchased equipment and look down upon you.
Buying back your powers - Your power is currently in the hands of the power brokers. Maybe you lost it on the horses, maybe you pawned it, maybe it was taken from you. Whatever the reason, you're buying it back, one GP at a time.
Rite of passage - Your clan of dungeoneering demigods will only initiate you into the next level if you prove your mettle by extracting valuables from the underworld.
Recovering what once was yours - You are a god, or part of one, and all that is below was once yours, or so a fuzzy feeling of the past tells you. For now, your memories lie buried within you, like your treasure remains buried within the underworld. Only by reclaiming it will you remember yourself and recall your powers.
Considerations
Some of these entries can be used as simple drop-in replacements, but others require a bit more work. For instance, if the players need to hoard their money in a castle, you'll need to factor in the cost of acquiring a castle to prevent the amount of gold required to advance from being too prohibitive, or adjust the campaign in some other way-- maybe place an abandoned castle somewhere they are likely to find it, or maybe the players are scions of of impoverished kings.
Other entries alter the default setting in greater ways, and they can easily result in the wealthy being able to purchase max level experience. If they don't do that, why not? If they do, what does a world of max-level oligarchs look like? Do bankers and kings use their extraordinary wealth to try to break through the level caps?
Whether you use any of these explanations or not, I hope it's encouraged you to consider XP for gold in a new light. What other factors of old-school play do we take as given, and how might diegetic explanations for those change the worlds we play in?
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i didnt expect anyone to actually see my reblog so i’m going to explain what i’m actually doing for anyone that wants a more detailed tip. maybe it helps someone like me?
it relies on two apps: a blocking app and a task planner app.
blocking (needs to be hard to disable):
i set time limits that let me know how long i use the app and locks it for 15 minutes.
i lock certain apps so i can only open them a given amount of times for a set time.
i create blocking sessions where most of my apps are locked so i can focus on what i need to be doing - or sleep.
planning:
write down how long it takes you to do things so you can tell when you are stress over an impossible schedule.
combine blocking sessions to the tasks you have to do so you can actually focus on them.
divide your tasks/to do list in smaller steps— helps visualize how long you need to take, gives you motivation every time you check that small step even if you dont finish the whole task.
have alarms to remind you to take breaks to prevent burn out — pomodoro technique.
for a more detailed explanation of what i do and why, which apps i use, and the true cons of it all keep reading.
i started these habits because i was struggling with controlling time blindness, procastination, forgetting my body needs while hyperfixated and revenge bedtime procastination, all adhd symptoms that ended up with me needing antidepressants.
my qualifications to give this advice are: i did them and they worked for me —or at least improved my life significantly.
for all of this to work the most important thing is a change in mindset. you need to look at where you are right now, what habits are stopping you to reach your goals and where you could be right now if you stopped them and if you dont like the picture that makes, you need the strenght and will to put in the effort to change it.
dont do this because you should, do this because you want to improve your life. you also dont have to change every single habit, just by improving on one small habit you are already better than you were yesterday. you still improved yourself. be kind to yourself with your progress, but keep progressing.
these habits might not all work for you, but maybe they will and i feel like that makes it worth it to give it a read.
to block apps i use opal: (time blindness)
opal has a really fucking annoying way to turn off the limit and it’s even worse if you pay the app or combine with the phone’s own restrictions. it has block, lock and time limit options which you can schedule and even create blocking sessions.
for any app that is addicting and makes me loose track of time, like tiktok or ao3, i have daily time limits which variate from weekdays to weekends (shorter on weekends because with free time i lose track even more).
these time limits only purpose is strictly to make me aware of how long i actually spent on the app, not to stop me completely to use them, so after say 1h-45m of using it i get locked out for 15 minutes only. i can still access them back how many times as i want during the day, i just get stopped after a long period to be able to 1. realize how much time has been and 2. stop and think— do i need to go to the bathroom? am i hungry? did i leave the stove on? was i in the middle of a task before getting distracted?
on purely entertainment apps (like games), or apps i get painfully obsessive about (tiktok again) i have locks. what this does is it gives you a set amount of “unlocks” allowed on the days you set and you can make them last whatever long you want. once you ran out of unlocks, that’s when you get blocked out until tomorrow.
this makes you aware of how many times you actually open those apps, works by either making you self aware/guilty (yes i am unlocking tiktok for the 7th time today so what) or by making you conscious of your available time to mess around (do i really want to open tiktok now for a quick bathroom break or should i save the unlock for later?).
if you unlock the app you can freely access it for the unlocked time, so if you unlock it and don’t use it you lose a chance to unlock it later, so for that reason my unlocking times tend to be really small but i give myself a lot of them. for example, i can open tiktok 15 times on the weekends, but only on ten minutes periods. thats still 2 and a half hours of tiktok screen time but i tend to use only five of them.
finally i have blocking sessions to sleep, study or work. these can be either be scheduled or created by a shortcut widget or a focus mode on iphone (think do not disturb on steroids). these go hand in hand with that planning bit of the apps. basically for any time where i have to study or just focus in general i start a blocking session. i also use it to block the apps when it goes from “sleeping late” to “you have no excuse here” (2:30-5am).
i put almost every not actually useful app or website on a blocklist and while the session is on i can’t open any of them without going directly to opal. if i go to the app i have to wait five seconds to just make any edits (you can get longer wait with timeout mode and harder if you pay). you can also combine it with password protecting the app, getting it off the home screen so its harder to find, etc. you can even block opal during your blocking session to prevent you from disabling it.
i can instead of disabling the whole thing, have “breaks” of any time i choose that would automatically block the ups again after they’re done. if i have to send an important text to my mom, or check the file a friend sent me, or whatever, i can take a five minute break to do so and the apps would automatically lock again so i dont get distracted doing anything else on my now unblocked apps.
to plan my day and tasks i use sunsama: (procastination)
i am milking those no card needed 14 day free trial, but it is expensive so you can use ticktick(?), notion, xtiles, just regular calendar/notes, evernote, theres a bunch online. basically somewhere you will actually check to put everything you need to do every single day, even dumb things, specially in as many small tasks as you can (think finding recipe, preparing ingredients, make meal 1, make meal 2, leave dishes ready to be washed, eat, do dishes instead of “cooking/eating” —make its easier to contextualize time and seems more approachable doing a bunch of short time tasks getting the dopamine boost of checking them on the list than one big tasks where you can forget the details).
what i like about sunsama in particular is three things: actual/planned time, pomodoro timer, and pushing tasks forwards.
the actual/planned time is single handedly fixing my time blindness. basically every time you go add a task it encourages you to write how long you think the task will take, then when you finally write every tasks of the day it will tell you how many hours worth of work you have planned to do, and if its healthy or not. a lot of the times that i got stressed because i didnt do most of what i planned its because i didnt realize i was planning a 25hs long schedule —i physically couldn’t do that much work on a single day.
then every time you start the task, you can start the timer so you can actually visually see how long it takes you to complete that task, and in the future when you try creating similar tasks it will recommend a similar time frame. combine that with pomodoro technique of focusing and your blocking session breaks and suddenly you are aware of how long time is (get awareness of how time passes and what 10 minutes feel like), how long it takes you to get things done (plan your days more effectively— prevent the “i can’t do anything because i have an appointment in five hours”), how much time has passed since you started the task (prevent hyperfixation), a way to stop you of getting distracted from actually doing what you set out to do.
if you plan obsessively enough, it can push you to start the tasks when you planned them to because you already planned your week (maybe) so you know you wont have time later because the other tasks (soft deadlines to kickstart the adhd go mode! — prevent procrastination as you already know you have prepared the actual time it will take for you to get that task done and to do it you have to start it now).
the pomodoro technique involves 25 min of work with 5min breaks —every three sets of 25 min of work take a longer break of 15min-30min. to the usual complains i say that in my personal opinion:
it made starting tasks feel less daunting.
prevented burnout from hyperfixating and ignoring my body’s needs.
makes it easier to stick to a task for longer when i know in just a couple more minutes i will get that break.
boosted my efficiency as i try to finish before the timer goes off.
you can adjust it to your needs: make it 45min of work with 10 min breaks, dont take the 5 min break —just set the timer so every 25 minutes you get a reminder to drink water, go to the bathroom, hey you have been at this for five hours maybe do take the break now.
for me it doesnt tend to break the flow/focus mode because the five minutes are usually just barely enough time for me to go to the bathroom and refill my drink. maybe answer one (1) text. it isn’t like with neurotypicals where they either dont see these as breaks or don’t need to be reminded to do them.
i combine this technique with the 5 minutes breaks of my blocking sessions, so i can’t get distracted while getting shit done and it feels easier knowing i wont be completely locked in while doing it thanks to the breaks. i also write on a paper to keep track of how many pomodoros i have done, and keep a “parking lot” empty paper to write down any idea or task or to do i thought that i can later add to my tasks list and dont forget it.
the final thing i like about sunsama is that it doesnt leave unfinished tasks behind, so anything you dont accomplish today it will push it into tomorrow schedule so you can still see what you need to get done. many others leave the tasks behind so you have to scroll to find any missed tasks and then i just never do them.
the cons on all of this for the sake of transparency:
needing to stay consistent turning on those blocking sessions or not finding alternatives to your blocked apps.
being honest and blocking or limiting everything that will distract you (i barely used to use tumblr, now its my most used app because it has the loosest restrictions and bypasses my sleeping block. i know this— i still havent restricted it more. i am ignoring my dangerous non sleeping time frame to post this.)
being so restricted on my usage is pushing me a bit into revenge sleep procastination. i went from 14hs of screen time daily down to 7hs and im struggling to adjust to it. hence tumblr or looking for alternatives to catch up on missed “free time”.
i still tend to overschedule myself into impossible timelines, which makes me ignore the pomodoro breaks causing stress on my body and burning out, keep until i finish the tasks despite going widly off planned time, making me go to bed later and pushing more tasks onto tomorrow’s packed schedule.
the last two are connected. because i want to finish the task quickly and ignore the breaks, i dont actually have the free time to mess around while doing the tasks and i want to catch up on that missed time while on bed.
however, i went from not studying at all (im an university student) to studying 40+ hours in the last couple of days, divided my screen time by two, went to class, meal prep so i can actually eat during the week, drink more water. its a work in progress but baby, im progressing.
so yeah that’s how i parent controlled my phone into working to help me focus and do shit instead of helping me bedrot into a depressive episode. if you want me to go more in depth or want to help me out on my cons, please do i love both options. let me yap or help me out just win win win to me.
graph of what being hungry is like with adhd
#adhd#actually adhd#adhd problems#adhd brain#adhd advice#executive dysfunction#advice#procastination#time blindness
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New Year, Same Me - Part 3: Girl you losing weight, again?
Updated: Apr 25, 2020
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It's a new year, and you need change. Take it from me, losing weight will not bring your significant other back, make your parents love you, or in my case, cure depression. Your shit is gonna stink in some way, and having a six pack will not stop the bill collectors, the haters, or your mother from seeing through your bullshit. So first, find the real reason you want change. Understand, fat people have existed happily on this planet since the dawn of time. Fat people are happy, married, parents, business owners, fitness gurus, chefs, intellectuals, etc. Fat is just a fact, not a hindurance. So is the fat really your problem? Here let me give you an example.
I thought losing weight would bring understanding. I could finally figure out why I was so sad, why things never seemed to work out, why I always see myself as second best. Well losing weight helped me to understand that being fat causes none of these things. I do. When people classify themselves as a category of person (always the bridesmaid, fat ugly friend, the nerd who people just need to understand more and see past the acne to fall in love with, etc.), attributing all of their shortcomings to some sick game life is playing, you have a gag. My gag was the "funny, fat, friend". And honey I dived into the lifestyle. My circles consisting mostly of men, making myself seem unassuming, acting like being sexy was something someone prettier did. Let me tell you now, if you have a gag, grow up. No, it's not that people don't find you attractive because you are fat. Maybe you only strive for things in your comfort zone that fails to challenge you. Maybe you refuse to try something new out of the fear that you will fail. Maybe you know that you can indeed do whatever the hell you want to do in life, but staying the same makes you happy and comfortable. Maybe you are always a bridesmaid because no one wants to wife or husband a complacent, boring, predictable human who refuses to acknowledge their own problems you nitwit.
So, is losing weight something you really need to do in 2019? For me, yeah. Once I found my happiness, and knew that being skinny would bring me no more happiness than I already had, I still wanted to lose weight. And that's great. I want to be able to play with my grandchildren, bust a move with my girls at our 70th, and set an example for health in my predominantly Black family. I needed something to help me with my anxiety, I wanted to feel good in the morning, I wanted to try different types of healthy foods -. Ok, you get it. As long as you aren't becoming a skinny legend for some person, or plan on using your new healthy body for evil, get healthy sis. Losing weight has made me disciplined, forced me to try new things, helped my mind from racing, and gives me something to do when I get depressed. I finally can wear the clothes I have always wanted, do all the activities my asthma was preventing me from doing, and gave myself the extra boost of confidence I needed to complete any daunting task. I attribute my new body to reading, my amazing trainer, HEB curbside, and the most supportive group of friends in the world. On days I felt like a whale my friends always make me feel like a princess please get a support system ASAP!
Losing weight helped me a lot, but it did not bring me understanding. I did THAT. I took the initiative to learn about all the different ways to be healthy (none of them involve your weight please stop talking about that irrelevant ass number), where my happiness can be found, and understanding what it truly means to be healthy to me. I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, I am a continuing project and time is a construct anyway. I don't judge you if you do though. Do something good for yourself, maybe you will finally start to understand.
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come over. (m) jjk
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pairing. jungkook x reader genre. smut, pwp, warnings. jungkook is a self proclaimed pervert, smut in forms of: mutual masturbation, voyeurism through bedroom windows, rough sex, oral (m receiving), jungkook is a lil mean but just a little, dirty talk, use of vibrator, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation, unprotected sex word count. 7.2k summary. the guilt of being a dirty peeping tom eats Jungkook alive, not knowing this was all part of your elaborate plan to sleep with the new neighborhood eye candy. author’s note. #84 requested by @taestybae from this promp list! ty for sending this in bby 🖤 (requests now closed)
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Jungkook knows it's wrong, god does he know it's wrong. Acting as if he didn’t mean to leave his blinds cracked open, tilted at just the right angle that allows him to still be able to see out, the view he’s granted being your own window a few feet away.
It’s funny now, how when he had first purchased the town house he had hated how close his neighbors were to him, and now here he was, an absolute pervert who was thankful for the narrow distance between your buildings.
The self proclaimed pervert simply sits at his desk, mindlessly going through work emails while his eyes continue to drift up, staring through his blinds for any sign of movement.
Jungkook’s chest feels tight as he waits, eyeing the ticking clock in the corner of his screen and seeing it was nearing nine at night. Maybe you had plans tonight, going out with your friends, mind too preoccupied to indulge the filthy fantasies Jungkook had swirling in his head. It had become his favorite daily activity, sneaking a peek at you, sometimes doing simple things like relaxing with a face mask, or having a dance party.
Of course those moments were all adorable but his favorite moments were the ones where you would walk around topless or lather lotion on your body after a shower. Sometimes you’d take the teasing a step further, blinds fully opened with only the sheer curtain coming in between him and your shadowed silhouette, caught in the act of what he could only assume was you touching yourself.
Jungkook used to think it was purely accidental, just a careless neighbor who had no idea his bedroom had the perfect view, but he swore you had made eye contact with him far too many times for this to not be intentional.
Before his mind can spiral further, there’s suddenly a flicker of light and like a magnet, Jungkook’s eyes lock in to their target, seeing you walking into your room with a small towel draped over your shoulder, sports bra and tiny workout shorts showing him how your body was glistening in sweat.
Pushing off his desk, his chair rolls and squeaks along his floor so he could get a better view, completely invested in seeing the way you get comfortable after your trip to the gym. Call it creepy or call it attentive but Jungkook had grown to know your schedule, you were his neighbor who enjoyed giving him peep shows so it was sort of hard for him not to realize the usual routine you had. However, this was the first time he had seen you come back from the gym this late.
Jungkook groans now at his realization, palm coming to rub down his face as he hears his own thoughts, behaving like a man who had a notebook where he jotted down your schedule.
He didn’t, but still, he felt like a creep. A dirty fucking creep.
With his eyes screwed shut he shuffles the chair back to its rightful spot like a child in time out, angling his body to prevent his wandering eyes from looking through his window once more, the shame once again eating away at him like it did every time.
Did you really do this on purpose?
Of course you did, you weren’t stupid.
The second Jungkook moved into your neighborhood he became the talk of the street, suburban house moms, young teenage girls, even your elderly neighbor had begun to wonder who the cute boy who went jogging down the street was. He oozed sex appeal, not even realizing how swooned he had everyone with his morning workout, he just thought everyone waved and smiled at him out of pure friendliness.
Although he had no idea how hot he looked, you were blessed with the gift of vision and common sense. It only took you one glance of him exiting his house, long hair partially tied back, running shorts hugging his thighs so beautifully and you were sold.
The minute you realized he was your next door neighbor it was like a lightbulb went off above your head, it was a blessing in disguise and you were not about to pass up the opportunity to have this go in your favor. Giving him a front row seat to you and everything you had to offer was the cards you chose to play and so far it had been going well.
That is until you exit the shower, excitement coursing through you, already wondering how you’re going to tease him tonight. With your towel loosely hanging around your chest, you’re ready for the small show, but as you get into your usual position you notice that his blinds are now tightly closed, no gap between the shutters to allow him a peak of you.
It’s a sudden and very unexpected chain of events. With a small huff of disappointment you perch yourself onto the end of your bed, directly facing your window as you sit in thought, your saucy plans for the night being ruined.
Wondering just what could have made Jungkook flip a switch like that kept you up at night so when you see him coming in from his run the following morning as you leave for work you don’t think twice about speaking up.
Your neighbor flinches when you greet him in good morning, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him but he could thank your connected driveways for that.
“Oh, good morning.” he smiles politely, pulling out his airpod and pausing his music entirely to give you his full attention. The small nerves of being called out bubble up inside of him, only having talked to you once prior he wasn’t really sure where this conversation would go, were you about to call him a disgusting pervert?
“Did you call it a night really early last night?” You bite instantly, soft smile not giving away your true intentions but he knows, the way his eyes widen slightly make it obvious.
“Yeah,” he sputters out, wiping his sweaty palms on his black shorts, nerves already making his heart skip. You knew, there was absolutely no way you didn’t and this solidified it. He had assumed you did, his guilty conscience making him believe what you did was intentional in order for him not to feel like the peeping Tom he very clearly was, but hearing you sneakily admit to knowing he hadn’t watched you last night made him feel like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him.
“Haven’t been getting much sleep lately so..”
You simply nod along as he trails off in a lie, lips spreading out into a smirk as your eyes very obviously give him a once over, focusing on the deep cuts of his sleeves that expose his sides and art filled arm, how the shorts he wears hit above his knee and leave his glorious thighs out for you to see. He was truly blind to his good looks.
“Sorry I haven’t really given you a proper neighborly welcome, can I have your number?” Already fishing your phone out of your pocket because you knew he wouldn’t say no, still you tack on a helpful lie to make your flirting a little more subtle. “The neighbors have a group chat, I’ll add you to it so you can get all the hot gossip.”
If he knows you're lying he doesn’t show it, instead he looks a tiny bit disappointed that you wanted his number to add him to a neighborhood group chat. Regardless he recites his number with a smile, his phone instantly vibrating in his palm with a text from you, a friendly ‘hi neighbor’ with a waving emoji at the end.
As he starts to save your contact you open up your car door, grabbing his attention once more. “I’ll text you if I ever need sugar...or other neighborly things.”
The suggestive teasing in your tone isn’t lost on him now, his cheeks flushing at the implications behind your words. “Yeah, whatever you need.”
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He’s admittedly even more disappointed when your message thread runs dry, not even being added to the gossip group chat that he was sort of curious about. You hadn’t even given him a show since the night he shut his blinds but it was all part of your plan, expertly crafted to go in your favor.
While you’re at work you get the email that sets everything in motion, a notification of your package being out for delivery. A very cute baby pink wand would be placed at your door step in discreet packaging and if things went the way you anticipated it would be making its proper debut tonight, hopefully with an audience of one.
Jungkook is pulled away from his computer screen when his phone vibrates against his desk, your name illuminated on his homescreen. He pauses for a moment, wondering if this was simply a text initiating him into that damn group chat that he had no idea didn’t actually exist, but when he unlocks it and opens up the thread he sees it's just you.
Y/N 3:48pm : hi jungkook, sorry to do this but im getting a suuuper important package delivered today could you please keep it safe until i get home later tonight? 🥺🖤
You wanted him to guard a package, just neighborly things, exactly what you said you would text him for.
Jungkook 3:49pm : sure, what is it?
He feels stupid immediately after hitting send, fingers curling together into fists as his eyes glare at his screen. Why the hell would he ask what the package was? Being a peeping Tom was clearly not enough, no he had to know about your online purchases.
Y/N 3:52pm : just something for sore muscles 😅
Just like a typical horny boy would, his mind wanders to what exactly could be in the box, quickly texting you an ‘okay!👍🏻’ before locking his phone altogether. He was going to lose his mind.
All according to plan.
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Jungkook guards that package with his life, placed delicately on his kitchen counter, exactly where he left it the minute he saw the postman drop it off. He’s been glued to his couch since then, regularly looking over his shoulder to ensure the brown box wouldn’t spontaneously disappear.
Just as he feels himself getting antsy the gentle knocking from his front door has him springing up from his couch, pausing a few feet away from the door as he eyes the knob before looking back at the package. Should he greet you with it in his hands, or would that seem like he was trying to rush you away?
When you knock a second time he opts for just opening the door, seeing you standing there with that friendly smile, a small tweed skirt and matching top showing him you had just got off work, his eyes focusing on your exposed legs for a moment too long until your voice snaps him out of it.
“Hi Jungkook,” you greet him with that honey sweet voice, the tiny glimmer in your eyes betraying you but he doesn’t spot it. “Did you get my package?”
“Hey, yeah I did.” Leaving the door ajar, he steps further into his home, quickly retrieving the light box and bringing it to you, still patiently waiting with that polite smile as if you didn’t know what was packaged inside that box.
“You’re a lifesaver!” you cheer, holding it close to your chest with a small sigh, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if this got stolen.”
Jungkook can feel his face warm up, not able to stop his mouth from running on autopilot, unintentionally outing himself as an extremely observant neighbor. “You must be really sore from going to the gym all the time huh?”
There's a silence that falls over you both as you eye him curiously, gaze flickering with the same mischief from earlier, something he can easily spot now and he desperately wants to shrink into himself.
“Definitely,” you agree with a laugh, “thanks again, have a good night!”
And just like that you’re gone, leaving him with his forehead pressed against his front door as he feels like an idiot. “Really, you must be sore?” He mocks his own voice, rolling his eyes before standing up straight and retreating back into his room to finish the work he had neglected in favor of protecting your package.
The same package that you were currently clutching onto as you bolted up your stairs with a pair of scissors in the opposite hand, debatably not the safest choice but it had to be done. You feel like a crazed woman as you stab into the clear tape to break the seal, peeling back the flaps and letting out a giddy laugh when you spot the sleek white box, a photo of the device printed on the front.
With steady hands you pull out the prized toy, carelessly tossing the empty boxes to the side, hearing them land with a light thud. The soft silicone against your thumb fills you with anticipation, a silent click against the first button dulls down the excitement when it refuses to turn on.
“Stupid fucking chargers.” you grunt, setting the device down and making your way back to the discarded boxes, pulling out the tiny white cable to plug it in.
The provided pamphlet states a full charge in one hour, plenty of time for you to get a grip on yourself, the last thing you needed was to rip open your blinds and come face to face with your hot neighbor with the crazy eyes you’re sure you were sporting earlier, you really didn’t need to scare him off before the main event.
Jungkook is none the wiser as he mindlessly scrolls through the endless data in front of him, eyes floating through the numbers in a dazed manner, his mind far too occupied with that stupid package. He knew exactly what it was, proudly deciphering the code of something for sore muscles to spell out vibrator for him in giant neon letters.
Were you using it now, in your bedroom a good feet away from his own, laid out on your bed directly in his line of sight?
His mind continues to play out salacious scenarios as you finish applying your favorite lotion after the small body shower you took, the silk robe hanging off your shoulder as you bend forward. Your pink toy lays on your bed, the buttons now blinking to indicate a full charge, your plan was now back in motion.
As you step back into your room and slowly crack open your blinds you realize Jungkook’s are still tightly shut. Looking up into the slowly darkening sky you notice the clouds beginning to loom overhead, a smile spreading on your lips as you think of a way to get Jungkook to open up his blinds for the show.
Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a text a few seconds later, eyes widening slightly when he realizes it’s from you.
Y/N 7:02pm : lol does it look like its gonna rain to you?
His head tilts in confusion at your question, nonetheless he stands from his desk, fully sliding up his blinds to stare up at the sky. When he notices the grey clouds he looks down at his phone to start to type, the small flash of movement from across the way making him freeze, looking directly through your window once more and seeing you innocently sitting on your bed, staring right at him with a smile.
Jungkook can feel how wide his eyes get as he stares at you, leg crossed over the other as you rest back onto your palms, head tilted as you wave at him in greeting. Right where you want him.
His hand raises up to wave back at you, the voice in his head screaming every obscenity he could think of as he attempts to smile, the grimace in his face making it hard for you not to laugh.
You start slow, wanting to give him enough time to shut his blinds if he really wants no part in this, your hand coming up to begin pushing the robe off your shoulder further, the first sliver of skin being exposed to his eyes. Jungkook wants to scream, bang his head into the glass as he sees the way your skin glimmers, already knowing you had lathered on that damn lotion of yours.
When he doesn’t move you let the other sleeve fall down, the swell of your breasts holding up the soft material, shielding them from his sight for another moment. Your eyes never leave his face, needing to see his reaction when you sit up straight and let the material pool around your hips, tits fully exposed for him to see.��
His reaction is well worth it, jaw dropping slightly as he spots the way your nipples harden in the exposed air, forehead nearly ramming into the window when you bring your hand up to pinch and twist at the pebbled buds. He feels his cock stirring in his pants when your head drops back, lips opening up to let out what he knows is the prettiest moan, head leveling out as you bite your lip and stare at him once more.
Jungkook doesn’t know what to do as he watches you, champagne colored robe still hooked around your elbows as you reach behind your bed and pick up the pink toy you had bought today. The metallic capped bottom shines in the light and he feels like he’s caught in a trance as you showcase it.
For a moment your attention drops down, landing on your phone as you quickly type out a message before setting it aside once more. His phone comes to life in his hand, nearly scaring him with its vibrations.
Y/N 7:18pm : touch yourself please
He swears he’s gonna bust his load then and there, typing out a quick ‘okay’, a message you ignore entirely in favor of turning on your toy. The excited look in your eyes is clear as day when the device buzzes in your hand, Jungkook’s eager fingers unbuttoning his jeans as you start to trail the vibrating head along your body, passing over your nipples and gasping at the ticklish feeling.
Looking across the way once more you see Jungkook’s gaze locked onto you, his body fully illuminated by his bedroom light, allowing you to see his hands start to push his pants down, taking his black briefs with them. Your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip as he raises his palm up to messily spit into it before coming back down to fist his slowly hardening cock. His covered chest rises and falls as he huffs out a breath, slowly squeezing his shaft as he glides up towards his head, coating his palm in the stray beads of precum that drip out of it.
This further solidified that Jungkook was a pervert, at least in his own mind, who else would be so eager to jack off to the sight of their neighbor this easily. You didn’t think so though, knowing every one of your actions had a purpose, Jungkook wasn’t a pervert for being a predictable boy, he was doing exactly what you wanted him to do.
As the head of your toy trails down your chest you take your time, circling your navel before reaching your hips, sliding down your thighs as you lean further back and begin to spread them apart. In a slow movement that Jungkook can’t look away from, you finally reveal yourself to him, folds glistening with your arousal, coating your inner thighs, allowing the toy to glide with ease.
Jungkook groans loudly as you pass the buzzing toy over your clit, a featherlike touch that makes you twitch and moan, his hand tightening around his cock as he twists on the way up. You were absolutely sin personified, giving him a show as you tease yourself, mouth dropped open as you finally press the toy against your clit, fingers slipping into your entrance and pumping inside of you. He can only imagine the way you sound as you stretch yourself open, hips rolling up into your hand as the pleasure jolts through you.
Fuck, what he would do to be able to touch you, hear your moans, be the one to hold that toy against you until you were writhing around.
You can see it in his eyes, the want clouding them as he watches you, his hand steadily pumping his length, quickening up each time your body twitches. When you pull the toy away his brows furrow, releasing his cock as he places his sticky palm against the window, wondering just what you were planning now as you reach for your phone once more.
It only takes you a few seconds to type out the message and hit send, looking up at him with that same predatory gaze you’ve been wearing all night. As he unlocks his phone again you stand up, letting the robe fully slide off your body, pooling around your feet as you step closer to your window, arms crossed under your chest to push your tits out further as you watch him.
Y/N 7:32pm : come over
He rereads the message three times, cock still out for you to see as he contemplates his options, finally looking back up and nearly choking when he sees the way you’re almost pressed against your own window, a sweet smile on your lips as you wave him over. That helps him make his decision, locking his phone and groaning as he slips his cock back into his briefs and shimmies his pants back on.
Your eyes gleam as he turns to exit his room, the light dimming off as he bolts down his stairs towards his front door. When he steps out onto his porch he sees the ground is damp, small droplets now falling from the sky, the chill creeping through his thin layers as he navigates across your connected driveways with his palms covering his extremely prominent bulge.
“Please be unlocked,” he whispers under his breath when he gets to your door, turning the knob and sighing in relief when it unlocks. Jungkook doesn’t care about manners as he steps in, locking the door behind him and instantly climbing the stairs two at a time, already knowing where your room was since your house was a mirror copy of his own.
When he finally pushes his door open he finds you perched on your bed, fully naked and waiting for him with that same toy trailing up and down your torso. The need for introductions are thrown out the window as he crosses the room, immediately settling beside you, his large hand cupping your cheek to pull you in for a kiss.
It catches you by surprise, the normally shy neighbor who got nervous whenever you caught him staring, never expecting him to be the type to go after what he wanted like this but the way he takes control makes you lean into his touch. His lips are tender against yours, hand guiding your face closer as he slowly licks his way into your mouth, a moan of approval leaving you as his warm tongue tickles yours.
You’d often fantasized about kissing him, wondering if he was the type to tease, to pull back and leave you wanting more but the desperation guides his movements, stops him from not fulfilling his own desires. Jungkook kisses you with passion, hunger leading him until he’s pushing you flat on your back, hands dropping down to gently hold onto your neck.
The toy is cast to the side, your own hands sliding through his long hair as you sigh into his mouth, the wet smacks of each kiss filling your ears.
“Take it off,” you mumble against his lips, trailing your hands down his back and tugging his shirt up, determined to rip it off of him to finally see the glorious body you know he has. Jungkook presses a quick kiss against you before kneeling up and pulling his shirt off by his neckline, each inch of exposed skin making your mouth water.
The way his muscles rippled, pulled taut as he stretches out and tosses the black long sleeve aside, bulging out when he finally relaxes, you can’t help but let your fingers trace each ridge on his stomach. Jungkook lets you take him in, not opposed to the lust swirling in your eyes, your tongue licking over your lips as you admire him, following the lines of each tattoo up his arm until you reach his face.
“Like what you see?” he murmurs, looking down at you with lidded eyes, letting them roam along your body, the swell of your tits that rise with each breath, how your hips can’t keep still, searching for any bit of friction you could find.
“You’re fucking unreal.”
He holds his breath when you begin undoing his pants, in a hurry to see his cock without the distance between you. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?” he realizes, the completely unphased look on your face, the perfectly executed texts and package delivery, just knowing that he had done everything you wanted him to do.
“It was fun though wasn’t it Jungkook, tell me–“ he helps you tug his jeans down, his briefs going with them and joining his shirt on the floor, “What did you like more, seeing me do everyday things or watching me play with myself?”
A choked groan slips past his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock, slowly sliding up his length as you question him, enjoying the way he struggles to respond. “God you’re filthy,” he grunts, jaw slack as you sit up, face now level with his cock as he rests on his knees.
The sly smirk you give him shows that you know this, know exactly how filthy you are, using it to your advantage to get what you wanted. With bated breath he watches the way you inch forward, tongue sticking out to gently lick the swollen head of his cock, the salty bead of precum picked up by your tongue.
“Can’t help it.” You sink onto him as the words leave your mouth, lips wrapping around him and he sighs at the warmth that envelops him, the wetness of your tongue circling his tip making his stomach tense up, muscles flexing to keep himself from thrusting into your throat.
The small moan you let out as he fills your mouth makes his body rattle, the feeling of his dick heavy on your tongue as you slide further down, wrapping your hand around the base to steady yourself. This was much more satisfying than seeing him play with himself a few feet away, the sighs of appreciation that float in the air each time you pull back make you keep going, wanting to see him fall apart.
Jungkook doesn’t know when his hands tangle themselves in your hair, taking it upon himself to guide you up and down his length, starting a filthy rhythm that lit his body up. He urges you down more, hands coaxing you, pushing you further onto him until you’re choking as he fills your throat. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier, eyes full of tears, nose pressed against his stomach as you hum around his cock.
He pulls you off of him a few seconds later, the wet gasp you let out ripping through the air as you catch your breath but that sly smile remains on your face, eyeing his messy length, bobbing slightly as he moves around.
Leaning over you once more his hands cup your face, thumb rubbing under your eyes where he spots the unshed tears threatening to spill over, collecting against your lower lashes. “Fuck, I bet you’re pretty when you cry.”
The rasp in his voice makes your stomach flip, more wetness coating your thighs and further ruining your sheets. “Make me,” you whisper, smiling when his eyebrows raise in question. “Make me cry Jungkook.”
His cock throbs at your response, wanting nothing more than to do what you want, turn you into a crying mess as you beg for him like he often thought about. “You sure?”
With a small nod you’re crawling backwards, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees, arching your back for him as he eyes your exposed cunt, sodden folds shining when you wiggle your hips. “I’m sure.”
Jungkook fists his cock as he approaches you, slotting his knees between your thighs, inching forward until he’s circling your entrance in a teasing motion. Flashes of the way you had spread yourself open minutes prior play in his mind as he slowly breaches your entrance, the first feeling of you taking his breath away, eyes falling shut as you let out the first moan.
Your hands fist the sheets as he stretches you open, his size filling you up so deliciously, inch by inch splitting you open. He can’t look away from it, mesmerized with the way you take him in, molding around him like he was meant to be there.
A whimper leaves you as he presses his palms onto your ass, holding you still once he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against you, walls fluttering around him as he gives you time to adjust to his size.
“This is–“ you groan when he slides back a little, “this is just how I pictured it.” The laughter laced in your voice piques his interest, leaning over your body to see you with your face pressed against your sheets, a teasing smile on your face.
“Yeah?” Jungkook questions, tightening his grip on your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, no doubt marking them for you to see later. “You pictured getting fucked from behind by your neighbor?”
“Mhm,” you squeal out, giggling when he starts to fuck into you, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, the small smack of your skin mixing in with your laughter and moans.
“I knew it,” he grunts, trailing his hand up your spine, around your neck until his palm was pressing your face into the mattress, holding you down as he ravished you, stretched you apart and turned your impure thoughts into mush. “Knew you did it on purpose, fuck, do you know how guilty I felt?”
Your walls tighten around him and he moans out at the feeling, the warmth sucking him back in each time he pulled out, the wet squelch of you soaking his cock getting louder each time.
“S-sorry.” It's quiet, but he knows you don’t mean it, knows the words are lace with trouble as you start to rut back onto him, the playful smile felt against his palm spelling it out for him.
“Oh you’re sorry?” Jungkook picks up his merciless pace, knowing he found the right rhythm when you let out a cry of surprise, arching further for him and keening as he nudges against your sweet spot, the first sparks of your orgasm flashing within you. The fact that you were getting what you want sending you closer to the edge faster than expected.
“No, I’m not,” you admit, shamelessly moaning with each thrust. There was no way in hell you were sorry, if this was the outcome you’d do it all again the same exact way. Jungkook wouldn’t argue with that, the earlier guilt he felt long gone, replaced with pure hunger, only increasing when your moans start to get breathier, the panting felt against his hand, hot and heavy as you whimpered.
“I know you’re not, you love putting on a show for me huh, knowing I was watching you from my window while you fucked with me.”
His words make your mind spin, the intoxicating roll of his hips dragging you under into the same state of desperation he was in, weeks of mindless torture fueling the both of you with more than enough sexual frustration.
“I loved it,” you whine when he pushes your face harder into the sheets, the roughness he’s displaying making your stomach flip, thighs spreading out further for him and you let out a trembling moan when he sinks deeper into you.
You were going to cum, he recognized the way your body tightened up, walls clamping around him, making him curse as he continues to rut into you. Jungkook smiles as you cry out, chest pushing into your mattress, hands pulling at your sheets in desperation until suddenly, you’re cumming with a shout of his name, the feeling taking you completely by surprise. “F-fuck, Jungkook.”
He gasps as you gush around him, dripping down your thighs, creaming his cock until it's slick with your arousal. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time pulling out of you, needing to see your face as he sank back into you, now on your back with a dazed out smile.
A soft groan drips off your tongue, thick and needy when he bottoms out once more, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he starts to rock into you, forehead sweaty with his long hair falling around his face. It frames him perfectly, a simple curtain letting you see every expression he gives you, a private show just for you to witness.
“Wanna make you cry,” he confesses, bending down and kissing your chest, his right hand mindlessly swatting at the bed until he finds exactly what he’s looking for, that damn vibrator he had guarded with his life earlier.
The second the small vibrations meet your ears, your eyes go wide, catching the evil smirk on his lips as he holds the toy between you, fidgeting with the settings until it’s low enough to start. “Wait Jungkook, I’m sensitive.”
He leans back enough to trail the head down your stomach, taunting you as he circles your hips and reaches your mound. “You told me to make you cry though didn’t you baby?”
The excitement rushes through you once more, letting out shaky gasp as he just barely touches your sensitive clit, your body jolting and squeezing around his cock. Jungkook shuts his eyes at the feeling, bringing it back to rest against the tiny pearl, the low settings making a hum course through you, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Ah, Jungkook,” you cry, chest heaving as he starts to fuck you again, hips swirling around, unsure if you want to retreat from the toy or press against it harder, the slight sting of pain morphing into pleasure the longer he keeps it up.
“What?” he mocks, raising the settings until you’re shouting, a delirious laugh following suit as your thighs tighten around his waist in reflex. Jungkook knows you love this, your teeth biting down onto your bottom lip as you stare at him with glassy eyes full of tears, urging him to fuck you harder, begging him for more.
He does what you ask, pistoning his hips into you with enough force to jostle your body, the head of his cock just shy of hitting your cervix, waves of pleasure mixing in with the vibrations against your clit. Jungkook can feel his own orgasm creeping up on him, crawling up his spine, goosebumps flaring out on his skin, each wet thrust and cry from you only pushing him closer.
Jungkook watches you carefully, lost in his own pleasure but focused enough to see the way your eyes well up further, the needy sobs you release as he fucks you just right wrapping around him and urging him on, not wanting to hold back when this is what you’ve been wanting.
The small inkling to be mean and actually see the tears fall spurs something inside of him. With a few more clicks the vibrator hits the highest setting, buzzing intensely against your clit and you nearly thrash at the sudden feeling, back arching up as you gasp.
Jungkook chuckles, the low timbre making you whimper as he presses the head of the toy harder against you. “You gonna cum again, make a big mess around my cock?”
“Jungkook,” it’s a choked cry of his name, your arms seeking purchase around his frame, needing something to ground you as you start to float off.
“C’mon, wanna see you cry.” He watches in awe as your body tenses of for a moment, the pleasure catching just right to push you over.
“Fuck, fuck–“ you chant, words slurring together as a second orgasm is pulled out of you, eyes rolling back when the euphoric feeling crashes over you, tears finally spilling over and body turning limp as he continues to fuck you through it just like the last one. He feels like he won as the wetness pools under your eyes, brows furrowing together as you mewl at the feeling of your orgasm cresting, heartbeat slowing in your chest as you come down.
“So good,” he mumbles at the high vibrations felt against his cock, the flutters from your velvety walls keeping him from turning it off, sliding it down a bit closer to your entrance until he’s gasping as well.
“Too much,” you plead, eyes misty as you stare at him, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan when he ruts against you in search of his own release. His free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen against your skin.
“I knew you’d look pretty when you cry.” He sighs, shutting his eyes when you pulse around his length. “I’m almost there, you okay?”
His concern makes you smile, nodding as you place your hand over his own on your face, dealing with the oversensitivity for him to get his own release. “Yeah, cum inside me please.”
Jungkook groans in response, sliding the vibrator further down until it rests against the base of his cock, gliding along his length with each of his thrusts, the buzzing making his body tingle.
“Shit,” he grunts out, hips fucking you with more urgency, rutting against you sloppily, eyes opening up to stare directly at you and the lustfilled look you give him is what pushes him over. A choked groan dies in his throat when he sinks into you as deep as he can, spurts of his cum filling you up as his face twists in pleasure, mouth dropped open to release a soft moan that you swallow with a sweet kiss.
You hum against his lips when he thrusts shallowly a few more times until finally coming to a halt, turning off the toy and chucking it aside with no care before collapsing on top of you in pure dramatics. Jungkook has no qualms about how much he weighs, making himself right at home as he nuzzles into your chest, sighing in content when you rake your fingers through his hair.
“I feel sweaty, and I know I made a mess on your sheets.” Jungkook mumbles out, cheek pressed against your tits, eyes slipped shut with his slowly softening cock still inside of you. No doubt would your sheets be damp with an unholy mixture of the night's debauchery, something you would surely deal with later.
“It’s okay, I like the mess.” Your words are meant to be joking but the way his cock twitches inside you shows he takes everything you say seriously, simply rolling your eyes with a smile as you tease him further. “You’re a pervert.”
Jungkook scoffs at this now, taking full offense as he pulls out of you with an accusatory glare, eyes zeroing in on your evil smile as you prop yourself up against your headboard. “I’m the pervert?” When you nod he laughs loudly, finger pointing at you in a less than threatening manner, “Says the one who gave me free shows every night!”
“It’s not my fault you’re easy to rope in, you were hooked the second you saw me have that dance party in here huh?”
He nods instantly, knowing exactly what night you were talking about, it was the night he had moved in, before you had even realized he was your neighbor, having a full on dance party to some top 40’s from the 2000’s playlist you found. That was the first night he ever saw you and ever since then he had left his blinds cracked just to see a glimpse of you, not knowing what lewd ideas you had planned.
“Was it the facemask that did it for you?” You laugh, playfully nudging his side with your foot as he glares, the small smile on his face showing you he wasn’t taking this seriously.
“No, it was those sexy ass boyshorts you had on, I think they were grey. They made your ass look nice.”
He laughs with you as you squeal, knowing exactly what pair of underwear you had on, the oversized shirt doing nothing to hide them as you danced around like a lunatic.
“Is this gonna be a thing?” he wonders, taking it upon himself to enter your bathroom to grab a towel, the least he could do was clean up the mess he had caused between your thighs.
“What?”
“Should I text you about the weather tomorrow, call you over to mine this time? I’ll let you choke me if you’re into that.” He says it so casually it catches you by surprise, a cackle leaving you as he finishes cleaning you up, handing you your robe to cover up as he slips back into his underwear.
“Are you into that?”
“I could be,” he winks, flopping onto your bed beside you, letting his hand trail up your thigh until it reaches the hem of your robe, tracing the goosebumps that flare up because of it.
That was definitely something you could work with, mind already planning out the next time you’d torture your neighbor, wondering just how your hands would look like wrapped around his thick neck. Maybe you could see if he looked pretty when he cried.
He spots the mischief in your face instantly but before he could indulge you further, there was one thing absolutely eating away at his mind. “By the way, you never added me to that gossip group chat.”
Your lips purse into a tight smile as your fingers return to his hair, twirling each strand as you hold back a laugh, knowing it absolutely did not exist. You weren’t in the mood to crush his spirit, knowing he desperately wanted to know the ins of the neighborhood gossip so you simply shrug in faux apology, telling yet another white lie. “My bad, I’ll add you tomorrow.”
It’s good enough for Jungkook pressing a kiss against your thigh as he thinks of what the following night will bring, his mind also picturing just how cute your hands would look around his neck.
#ficswithluv#btswritingcafe#btsghostie#goldenclosetnet#heartsforbts#jungkook smut#jeongguk smut#jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts smut#new
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What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?
If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.
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1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.
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2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.
Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.
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3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.
However, here are the rules you must follow:
-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.
-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.
-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)
-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.
... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.
That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...
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4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.
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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.
Here’s how I cheat that:
Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.
Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.
Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.
Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.
And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.
You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...
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6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.
“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”
You won’t.
Write it down.
Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.
And then, once you have it written down somewhere...
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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.
Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.
Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.
(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)
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8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.
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9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.
But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.
Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”
Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.
Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”
This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.
If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.
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10) You don’t have to write in order.
Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.
But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.
Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.
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11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.
If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.
If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.
When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.
This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery.
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12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.
Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.
Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.
Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.
Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.
They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.
Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.
Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.
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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.
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14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.
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15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.
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16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.
I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”
And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.
Here are the things you must know about your character:
a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?
And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.
b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?
Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story.
It also informs character behavior and personality.
Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.
Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.
These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.
Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.
In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.
Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.
Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.
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I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.
Best of luck!
Edit: I forgot an important one:
17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.
What do I mean by that?
If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”
Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.
Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.
#asks#anon#writing advice#writing tips#writing#fanfic writing#fanfiction#character creation#plot development#character development#my advice#original writing
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As You Are (Bucky Barnes x fem!reader)
Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+
Word Count: 6.4k
Warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence and injuries, light choking, brief thigh riding/grinding, vaginal fingering with them metal fingies, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (dont be a dick, wrap that stick), fucking on sam’s couch
a/n: ok hi this fic is very self indulgent bUT YKNOW WHAT WHO CARES EKJHEJHKEJH this is my first fic for marvel and AH I hope I did Bucky justice. ENJOY YALL
This had been a terrible idea.
Right from the minute you tailed after he and Sam to the Baron’s extensive vintage car storage. Bucky had explicitly withheld any and all information regarding this little excursion to protect you but of course you’d shown up—none too jazzed about the little stunt Bucky pulled regarding the Baron. Fair.
You were right—Bucky should have called but that overwhelming guilt of dragging you into another one of his problems stopped him from pressing that little call button. He never wanted to be the reason you ended up back on the run again. Though judging by the way things were going, it was more than likely you’d be in prison by the end of the week.
Luck had your back in that sort of regard—too bad it could never rescue you from your own stubbornness and grief regarding that damn shield.
You’d taken a devastatingly hard hit from Walker—a fractured orbital, a split lip and a dislocated shoulder. All preventable—if only Bucky kept better track of you before you showed up in that warehouse alone. Left to fight the shadow of what was once a symbol of hope for some—another man playing dress-up in something that will never belong to him.
It was just their luck Bucky and Sam arrived in time—preventing you from becoming another red stain of violence splattered over that shield.
James Buchanan Barnes is not afraid of much—but fuck. Seeing you crumpled over the concrete floor, all bloodied and struggling to raise a hand to protect your face… It was the same feeling as injecting his veins with a pure shot of adrenaline and anger shrouded in fear. He promised Steve he’d look after you…
And as Sam carried you out of that warehouse you had the gall to tenderly tell them that you were just fine—as if your mouth weren’t full of blood and a face blooming with patchy bruises. The jealousy that sparked through Bucky’s chest when you clung to Sam’s chest did nothing to help that dark festering pit inside his ribcage he’s attempting to suture back together.
Bucky clenches his jaw. At least you’re asleep now. Curled up against the window, holding your injured arm in a way that limited the turbulence from jostling it. It’s the first time Bucky would describe you as fragile. He know’s you’re anything but that—stubborn mostly—yet most of all brave. It’s what Steve admired most about you—what Bucky loves most about you too. That vibrant spark flowing through your blood and how you’re not afraid to shout along to your favorite songs despite the odd looks you get. Bucky envies how self-assured you are, how you’ll never lose yourself because you know just where you’re headed. He wishes he still had that sort of drive instead of all this uncertainty and guilt clouding each muscle and fibre in his body.
Bucky doesn’t realize the jet has landed until Sam stands and and places a large hand over your shoulder. Your face scrunches as you whine and curl further into your seat. “C’mon, kiddo.” You grumble something inaudible. “You want me to carry you?”
The delicate plates of vibranium clink together as Bucky’s hand tightens into a fist, jealousy flaring hot and bright. He quickly stands, too fast to be considering anything less than awkward. Sam’s brow quirks. “I can do it.”
“It’s cool, man,” Sam says as he scoops one arm under your legs and the other around your back. “I got her.”
Bucky bristles. Whatever.
It’s not like you and him have anything together. A one sided plague of affection that you’ll never know about—he wants to tell you. Fuck, the words burn through his tongue and collect like ashes between his teeth and yet they are never voiced from self sabotage. There’s no possible way to voice how you’ve haunted his thoughts and his dream since the moment his eyes met yours. How he’s memorized the lines of your smile and the sweet sound of your laugh, the sweep of your lashes and the rhythm of your steps. Bucky would know you deaf, blind, numb, in this world or any other twisted reality.
He had said that he wasn’t afraid of much, but that’s not entirely true. Eternity, oblivion, crowded rooms, being alone too long. And you. You terrify him. You have the power to pluck at the very strings of his soul and unravel him completely until he’s no more—and you don’t even know it. Bucky Barnes is less afraid of dying than he is of loosing you but that fear never once provides him the courage to tell you. You may not be a scribbled name in his book, but he still hopes that one day he’ll earn the chance to strike his cowardice and put to rest the wretched ache in his heart that he feels for you.
He wishes he told you in Wakanda, after the Blip, Riga, and right this instant. He watches Sam carry you out of the jet—what’s a little more time?
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The sun is beginning to melt into the horizon, turning the expanse of water into molten gold and shimmering blues. The hazy humidity from the late afternoon heat collects at the back of Bucky’s neck and the light breeze does nothing to cool. Bucky sighs and swipes at the bead of sweat creeping down his forehead with the back of his hand—he glances up.
A ghost of a smile creeps across his lips. You’re exactly where he and Sam left you three hours ago. Surprising to be quite honest—you never did like to stay in one place for longer than ten minutes. You’re a pain in his ass, simply said.
But now—now you’re haphazardly splayed out on the lawn chair you were forced into, a juice box loosely held in your good hand while the other still remains in the sling. He can’t tell if you’re asleep—Steve’s sunglasses do an excellent job of hiding your eyes. Yet as Bucky wanders closer, your head rolls to your right in greeting.
“It’s rude to stare, y’know,” you grumble, lifting the juice box to your mouth. Your lips purse around the plastic straw. “And before you ask—yes, I have a very important job I’m currently overseeing.”
Bucky quirks a brow. “What—hogging the lawn chair?”
“No—“ You huff. You gesture with your juice box at the large cooler your sandaled feet are propped up on. “I’m the booze master. God of the ale, destroyer of sobriety—“
“Alright, Booze Master,” Bucky interrupts with a snort. “Why don’t you bestow upon me a beer, your majesty.”
You tap your index finger over your chin as a lazy smile fixes itself over your lips. “Granted.”
You slide your legs off the cooler and with a pained grunt you shift forward. Bucky shoots his arm out and steadies you back against the chair by your shoulder before you get any further. Your face pulls into a grimace.
“I got it, kid. Relax.”
Bucky pops open the cooler and fishes out a beer and pops the cap off between his left index finger and thumb. You watch with a frown, “I could’ve done that for you.”
Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes and takes a seat on the cooler. The bitter fizz floods his tastebuds as he takes a sip of his drink, a tangible silence blanketing the space between you. He gets it—people like he and you can never settle for complacency. As if the rest isn’t deserved despite the bloody knuckles and the shattered glass that slices through skin—the bruises and the broken bones. None of it is enough—not worthwhile to preserve yourself when other’s so desperately need your help.
Or maybe it’s penance.
Bucky sure as shit finds himself swallowed by the black maw of guilt each and every day. Battling the never ending shadow of doubt that clings to his soul like glitter to a an old carpet. Bucky believes it’s safe to say that you’re the same—every good deed you do added to the imaginary scale weighing against the bad despite it feeling hollow and insurmountable. Paying in blood to equate the amount you’ve spilled. A hopeless battle you both insist on fighting.
Bucky sighs through his nose, bends at the waist and collects both your ankles in his left hand. You let him lift them both and settle your legs over his knees. You shiver, an eruption of goosebumps rushing up your skin at the cold metallic shock of Bucky’s vibranium thumb scrapinh over your bare flesh.
Bucky’s lips tilt down ever so slightly. “Did I hurt you?”
“Never,” you rush to say before he has the chance to flee. “S’just cold.”
His hum reverberates low in his chest as those cerulean blue eyes fall to his hands. You clench your jaw until your teeth ache as his left thumb continues to stroke over the delicate skin covering the joint of your ankle. This is…new…
You’d been close with Steve and Sam, and by proxy Bucky—in some weird adjunct way. Compared to Sam’s teasing bumps of the shoulder and that infectious laugh far more addicting than the golden liquor of the sun, Bucky is frigid. Still attempting to shake off the whole Winter Soldier thing that’s molded onto his bones like stubborn permafrost. Touch had always been tricky with him—even a friendly pat over the back or a simple tap to the harm had him tensing under the touch—muscle and steel bunching to prepare for a harsh blow that would never arrive. Never from you.
Bucky rarely sought out your physical comfort—you were always the one to initiate those friendly touches even if he was the type to just sit and ignore you like a grouchy old cat barely clinging onto that ninth life. The first time he breached that fragile barrier was in Wakanda—something in Bucky cracked and split into a cavernous ravine of nebulosity. Stitches shred apart then stapled back together as he grabbed your arm and wrestled you into a bone-crushing hug. You didn’t need to ask to realize he cried the entire time, gripping your shirt like a lifeline while he shuddered and sobbed into the crook of your neck. To him everything from the rain to silk sheets felt like shrapnel and the stars tasted like old blood and the past of things long gone—yet you were familiar.
A comfort for the much needed healing of the scattered pieces of a man. You don’t mind helping him pick up the tidbits and reattach them with veins of silver. It’s the least you can do.
The second time occurred after the loss of Steve. Some part of you had been wrenched out with his departure and he never bothered to return it. It doesn’t matter anymore—the hollow ache had been soothed with the Winter Soldier clutching you to his chest until you drifted off into a fitful sleep. A tether to a new reality you both partake in.
Which brings you to now. There’s no cathartic reasoning behind his touch…it’s simple…a risky leap of faith into unknown territory. Bucky’s eyes lift to meet yours—curiosity swimming in those icy irises. You don’t mind—in fact you quite like the calloused warmth of his hand and the opposing chilly metal one tentatively exploring your exposed skin.
“You have a scar here,” Bucky murmurs, skimming the thumb made up of flesh and sinew over the mottled skin occupying the crease of where the top of your foot meets your ankle.
You bite the inside of your cheek. “I fell on barbed wire.”
“Clumsy,” he chides, quirking a dark brow.
Your shoulders bounce with a huff. “I was like—twelve when it happened, James.”
His mouth quirks in a half smile, quite liking the validation of his name in the way your mouth speaks it. He wonders if you know the weight of granting you that leeway of calling him that. Shit—he doesn’t care what you call him, everything sounds lovely when you say it.
There’s another silence—holding your breath until something splits and shatters into a million pieces. You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want anything more than just friendship with Bucky but fear of rejection is a tricky thing. You take the easy way out and offer him the chance of something more on a silver platter.
“Bucky?”
His fingers whisper up your shin as he inclines his head.
“I’m tired. Drive me back to Sam’s?”
“Sure thing, doll.”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Bucky holds the door open for you as you stumble in, escaping the hazy southern heat. He disappears into the kitchen as you make a beeline straight for the couch, sighing loudly once the plush cushions meet your back. You lazily lift your head once you hear his familiar footfalls nearing.
With him he brings two Otterpops, one blue raspberry and the other cherry. Once he hands it to you he takes a seat on your left, close enough that his thigh and shoulder bumps against yours. “Don’t tell Sarah’s kids that these were the last ones.”
You roll your eyes and promptly stick the Otterpop into you mouth. “‘M ain’t no snitch.”
His low chuckle reverberates through his chest. The silence that follows isn’t an awkward one as you enjoy the cold treat—it’s filled with the humming cicada bugs outside and the breeze through the wind chimes. Comfortable with the normalcy—just a couple of regular old people enjoying life for a suspended amount of seconds.
Once you finish the Otter Pop, you crumple the plastic up and rest it on the coffee table. He does the same—hints of the blue syrup sticking to the cracks of his plush lips. You force yourself to avert your eyes. You cheeks heat with a flush as you rush to occupy your mind with anything but wild fantasies of Bucky’s mouth. You lean forward again, pointedly ignoring the way Bucky’s eyes track your movements as you shuck off your sling, the prickle of unused muscles and bruised ligaments rushing through the limb. You wince as you slowly roll your shoulder.
The muscles in Bucky’s jaw clenches. You sigh—he’s still blaming himself for your injuries. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not everyone has freaky healing powers, Buck,” you snort. You rush to appease him when he frowns. “It’s getting better though. Still can’t sleep on it—but eh.”
“I’m sorry.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. No matter how many times you tell him he’ll never believe you. That’s something only he can fix. Doesn’t stop you from telling him anyway. “Stop blaming yourself for my idiocy. I made my choice and paid the price for it.”
Bucky’s eyes drop to his hands. “Can’t help it, sweetheart. Steve told me to look after you.”
Your heart constricts within your chest like a fist. You inhale and reach out to rest your hand over his wrist. “Funny—he told me the same thing about you.”
It surprises him—his dark brows furrow as his mouth parts, but nothing comes forth. Grappling with the right words that fit with what he feels. He’s still learning how to give his soul a name that fits. Learning how to take the dark, twisted bramble of his heart and make it into something that doesn’t ache each time it beats. He’s still learning how to look himself in the eyes, point to himself and say that there’s nothing frightening in there. Not anymore. No more.
You suck in a breath and muster up the embers of courage. Here goes nothing—
You cup Bucky’s cheek, the scrape of stubble welcome against your warm palm as you gently turn his face to look at you. His eyes drift to yours when the mumbled syllables of his name tumble from your lips. His eyes are framed with dark circles of wildflower bruises, his small smile a moonbeam stark against battered skin. You’ve dreamt so many times of swallowing it whole and pressing him close enough that your heartstrings become entangled with no hope of separation. But that’s something for him to decide.
You drop your hand cradling Bucky’s jaw, but before your hand completely falls Bucky surges forward. His large hands rush to cup your face, swallowing your noise of surprise as his plush lips fall onto yours. The syrupy flavor of a Blue Raspberry Otter Pop he stole from Sarah’s freezer lingers on Bucky’s mouth, mixed in with the smell of old leather and cracked cardamom. Bucky nips at your bottom lip, tugging once and then rolling it between the blunt enamel of his teeth. Despite all the bad jokes regarding his age and senior citizen status—fuck he’s a damn good kisser. Compared to him you feel clumsy, sloppy, but no matter how hard you search for his distaste he doesn't seem to care in the slightest—if anything he’s pulling you closer.
Bucky’s kisses may taste like the middle of June and a first love, but desperation lines every action like a wound with jagged edges. It’s a slow process learning to be free, but one day he’ll transform into starlight—and instead of a kiss like fire, it’ll be like touching your lips to a constellation’s aureate mouth.
When Bucky pulls away, sucking in air and resting his forehead on yours, you catch a whiff of his hair. Freshly washed and smelling a bit like Sam’s shampoo. Your lips quirk. You’ll make sure to keep that a secret from Sam.
You pull back just enough to meet his eye, resting your palm over his vibranium hand that still cups your cheek. “Am I the first person you’ve kissed since the stone ages?”
His lips pull into a cheeky smile. “Maybe.”
You laugh and roll your eyes, skating your palm down the front of his shirt, the heat of his skin near searing through the fabric. “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do, huh?”
Bucky’s lips smother your small moan as he drags you into another kiss. You can feel his smile as he murmurs his agreement between desperate kisses and the enticing warmth of his tongue skimming along yours. The next time you part for air, Bucky drops his strong hands from your face to instead wrap them around the curve of your hips. He tugs you over his right thigh with ease and breathes a gentle sigh of your name, beginning to pepper kisses over you cheek and down the slope of your jaw.
Bucky reaches your ear and carefully nibbles the cartilage, his voice a warm scrape in your ear. “I want you.”
It’s such a simple phrase…and yet…it tears through you and pools like a heavy weight right to your center. “Then take me.”
Quick as a strike of a match, you’re tipped backwards, cradled right between the arm of the couch and the back of it. Heat rushes through each limb and gathers in your cheeks as Bucky’s vibranium fingers skate up your chest and curl around the column of your throat—that hardened soldier he’s tried to bury bleeding through the cracks of his resolve. You don’t care. You gasp into his mouth as he squeezes ever so slightly while he pushes a firm thigh between your legs. Shit—this is how you’re gonna die—grinding on Bucky’s muscled leg while he’s got a hand around your throat.
What a way to go.
With his other hand he grips the meat of your thigh and pulls you higher, grinding the rough material of his jeans covering his crotch into yours. You whine and arch into him. You need more.
You both stay here for a good while up until it feels like you’re ready to burst at the seems if you don’t have him now. Bucky is no better—cheeks flushed as he fumbles with the zipper to relieve the noticeable bulge straining against it. Impatient and needy, you shoo away his hands and do it yourself, easily sliding your warm hand down his navel and over his boxers to palm at his cock. Bucky’s hand twitches around your neck, a sweet groan filling the air when you softly squeeze him through the elastic.
“Fuck, you’re gonna…” Bucky trails off and buries his nose into the crook of your neck. “Gonna make me cum in my pants if you don’t—don’t stop.”
While the thought is tempting, you want this to last just a little bit longer. Rush after the glorious high of just being near him, his kisses, everything about him. Bucky grunts at the loss of your hand and mouths a wet trail of sloppy kisses up your neck and returns to your lips. When you part he sweeps a stray strand of hair and tucks it behind your ear. He smiles softly.
“Can I try something?” He breaths. Before he can even tell you what his idea is, you’re happily nodding along. “Wanna taste you. Been thinking about it ever since Wakanda.”
Oof. His words shoot straight your center. “Bucky—why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
His mouth quirks. “You make me nervous.”
Rolling your eyes you plant a kiss on his forehead and grant him his simple desire. Bucky sits and slides to the floor, close enough that he’s still able to hover over you. You lift your hips as Bucky tugs your shorts and underwear down and off your legs. Besides the general anxieties of being half naked in front of an incredibly attractive man and performing something so sinful on a friend’s couch—there’s a strange stroke of pride that alights through each of your vertebrae. A powerful man willingly dropping to his knees to please you.
Bucky shoots you a smile and slides his hands around your ribcage, bends forward slightly and captures you mouth in a deep kiss. He parts and nips down your jaw and over your throat, sliding his tongue over the marks he leaves with his teeth as if to soothe the slight sting. You whine and arch into him as he slides lower, leaving an obvious trail of bruises and teeth marks in his wake until he reaches the collar of your shirt. Bucky moves his palms under the fabric to grab at your breasts, the flats of his fingertips rolling over your nipples that peak through your bra. You suck in a shaky breath when Bucky catches the pebbled bud between his forefinger and thumb, the hard vibranium of his fingers scraping over it. A low hum rumbles through his chest as he leans forward to playfully nip at your collarbone.
“I wanna see you naked.” Bucky admits as he slips his hands out of your shirt. You shiver as those chilly metal fingers gently come to rest on the outside of your bare thighs.
“Not here, Buck,” you sigh. “T-they—fuck—they can come back any minute.”
Bucky quirks a brow, eyes dropping between your legs, then back up with a smirk. His plush lips part, yet before he can disprove your silly point—that your bare ass is already out and taking off the shirt would barely make a difference—you interject.
“Shut up.”
His shoulders bounce with a chuckle. “You have such a way with words, y’know that?”
You make a noise low in your throat and reach out to sharply tug his ear. He easily bats your hand aside, hooks his hands under your ass and hauls until you’re all but hanging over the edge of the cushions. You squirm, unable close your legs or to relieve some of that burning tension collecting in your core as Bucky lowers himself and wedges his shoulder between your thighs. He slides his hand over your calfs and wrestles them over his broad shoulders—earning a perfect view of your pussy. You’re already wet—worked up and running on borrowed time. You roll your head back onto the back of the couch and clench your jaw. You don’t want to rush him but Christ—you really don’t want Sam or Sarah to find you like this.
It feels like ages before Bucky’s lips touch your belly and then your navel with his warm tongue. With a grunt he shoves your shirt up to your breasts and circles your bellybutton with the tip of his tongue—his enhanced strength easily pinning you down as you jerk and giggle.
Bucky picks up his head and grins. “Try and hold still, doll.”
No sharp retort comes to mind. Fuck—he’s already got you so expertly wrapped around his finger.
Bucky hums, satisfied with your weak nod and continues on.
Bucky’s bare fingers trace minuscule patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, coaxing out a shiver that rushes through your body. They tickle towards the apex of your thighs and settle close enough to reach your aching center. He pauses for a moment and while you know he’s there, you curse when you feel his thumbs softly part the lips of your soaking cunt. They gently work up and down, smearing your wetness around but never enough to give you any friction as your body adjusts to the feel of flash and vibranium. You bite back a groan as your hips unconsciously twitch.
Unsatisfied with simply touching you, Bucky shifts his weight to better reach your core. “Fuck—you’re so pretty.”
There's a moment just before Bucky swoops down, face hovering close enough that you can feel his sticky, warm breath fan across you inner thighs. Anticipation grips your heart with an iron hold, and then— Bucky licks a broad stripe from the base of your cunt all the way up to your swollen clit. His mouth is molten, tongue like liquid velvet as you shudder and grab at his hair. Bucky grunts against you as you drag him closer by the short strands—greedy for any and all touch he gifts you. Bucky’s mouth slips around your clit, sucking and tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as a quiet moan wrenches free from your vocal cords.
He trails lower, sucks on your labia, and makes his way down to your soaking entrance. The wet heat of his tongue circles your cunt, skips over it completely to catch the wetness before it leaks over the couch. Bucky opens his mouth wide and groans in appreciation, devouring your pussy like he’s been denied this his entire life. Desperation lingers on his tongue and all you are is the honey sweet taste of salvation.
“Shit—Bucky,” you cry, throwing your hips forward in search of more friction.
It's perfect. So fucking delicious.
You tense as the vibranium tips of his fingers, two of them, press at your entrance, teasing the clenching ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The chilly digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle and when he draws them back, they're slick with your wetness. With a self-satisfied grin, Bucky thrusts them back in, then out—setting a steady pace that makes everything ache with desire. It leaves you just hovering over the sharp edge of ecstasy, the catch of his knuckles and imperceptible metal plating dragging along your walls pure torture. Fuck—he’s going to be the death of you—
Bucky’s mouth dips down a second time and sucks on your clit and with a few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls, your body seizes up tight. You're flying off that edge, faster than a fucking freight train. You cum onto his tongue and fingers with a strangled cry of his name, sparks of blurry white lining the edges of your vision as your back arches. Bucky continues to lick you through your orgasm, even as you buck and squirm in his iron hold. Supernovas implode behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire and jet fuel spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're shaking, lucid enough to hear Bucky murmur his praise—feeling the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue.
Your brain swims in hazy bliss as you float back to reality. He's still curling his fingers into your pussy and it damn near hurts. You're too sensitive. Nerves rubbed raw and still throbbing—but you're too fucked out and still riding the waves of your orgasm to push him away. Bucky is all too happy to remain between your legs—takes this opportunity to tilt his fingers into your cunt faster, suckle and lave his hot tongue over your clit that burns from overstimulation—somehow you're back at the very edge again.
It's sharper than a vibranium razor against bare flesh. Your thighs shake around him as he twists his fingers inside you and bumps agains that tiny, little patch of nerves. You cry out as an orgasm floods through you veins, rupturing each cell in your being with molten pleasure. Your core pulses around Bucky’s fingers, fucking you through it until those burning waves of release eventually cease to a fading throb. You whine and push at his forehead because he's still going. You panic a bit—fucking hell, he’s gonna make you cry—but he pulls away, his mouth and chin wet with your slick.
“Feel good?” Bucky purrs, resting his cheek on your thigh.
If judging by the way you thighs still quiver and your chest heaves—then yeah—it felt good.
Cheeky bastard.
“Get up here—“
You grapple with his shirt, fisting the thin fabric, but he’s heavy and your entire body feels like jello. Your grip strength is all but laughable at the moment as Bucky clambers back onto the couch and grabs both of your legs, slotting his narrow hips between them. One leg is stuck against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, foot skimming the hardwood floor to accommodate Bucky. Not the most comfortable but fuck it—who cares.
Bucky grunts when you lift your hands and hook your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, tugging them halfway down his legs with a sharp yank. Already a dark patch of wetness stains the fabric of his boxers, the impressive bulge straining against the elastic and begging to be released. Your eyes meet his icy blue ones as you slowly pull his boxers over his cock. It bounces up towards his navel, thick and beautiful just like the rest of him.
Impatient, Bucky’s fingers curl around your wrist and presses your open palm against his cock. He’s thick and heavy in your hand—perfect. The bead of precum that pools at his flushed tip smears against the inside of your palm as you experimentally roll your wrist, fascinated with the feel of his foreskin rolling over the steel heard flesh with each stroke.You give his a cock a rougher squeeze, a bolt of liquid heat settling in the pit of your stomach as a stifled moan reaches your ears.
A sharp hiss of hair passes through his clenched teeth as you lightly tug on his cock. From the base up you pull, fixed upon the throbbing flesh, flushed and pulsing and all for you. His cock bobs when you let go—he huffs out a disappointed noise. “I need you, Buck—please.”
Your previous two orgasms did seemingly nothing to soothe the growing ache for him. It prickles up your spine and singes through every nerve and bone—you whine and arch your hips, trying to touch your slick cunt to his cock. Bucky growls your name and pins your hips to the couch with ease.
With his left hand, Bucky firmly grips your jaw, his stare folding into something serious. “You sure?”
Your tongue runs over your bottom lip. You grin. “Do your worst.”
Bucky curses and readjusts your calf slung over his hip and grips the base of his cock. You shudder as he runs the blunt head through your folds, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the flesh of his forearm as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and arch. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s certainly not small in any way shape or form. You’ll feel him for days afterwards as your cunt swallows inch after inch.
You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw clenched tight as sweat beads at his hairline. Shit—he’s gorgeous—struggling not to loose control the moment he’s buried inside of you. You allow yourself to adjust for a moment but your own impatience rakes down your spine with claws of scorching arousal. You rock your hips in curiosity and squeeze around him.
“Fuck—“ A ragged moans severs his words as your gentle rocking tilts into abrasive jolts. At this angle it’s difficult to fuck yourself onto his cock, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. His left hand shoots to your throat, the chilly metal a stark contrast to your flushed skin. You dip your head back, exposing more of your supple skin—all his for the taking.
You dig the heel of your foot into the small of his back and grab at his shoulders—tempting him into fucking you already. You’ve waited long enough. Bucky snarls your name, hooks one hand under your ass and pulls his cock nearly all the way, out only to slam back in with devastating force. There’s no time to adjust or gather your obliterated thoughts before Bucky sets a pace, desperate and feral. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what seems like a millennia—and maybe it has been. Bucky shifts, widening his knees as much as he can to sink lower onto your body—his soft hair tickles your cheek as his choppy exhales burn hot over your skin.
Bucky turns his head to steal a kiss, open mouthed and catastrophic. No words are exchanged as he fucks into you with brutal strength aided by that damn super-soldier serum—there’s no need for them, not now anyway. You complete each other without the spoken utterances—still both a work in progress. Though most things are you suppose—constantly remaking yourselves, but instead of smashing the haphazard pieces back together alone—you have one another. You bury your hand in his hair and cry his name.
You choke out another groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter and damn—you really hope nothing gets on this stupid couch. You don’t want to explain that Sam.
Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, blazing through each and every vein with the brilliance of a wildfire escaping the edges of the forest. This is gonna ruin you. Bucky’s hand reaches between your bodies and rubs tight, controlled circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a calamitous surge of warmth that sweeps your very soul off its feet. Your nails dig into Bucky's back as you shake and fumble for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor.
You have no time to recover because he’s still going. Thrusting into your pussy with violent slaps that echo through the room and will more than likely leave bruises against your ass. Through the pressure of his hand over your windpipe—threatening to cut your air off completely—you garble out his name. Bucky drops his head to his chin, the weight of his gaze landing between your legs, watching the way his entire length disappears inside of you. When he raises his head he molds his mouth to yours. The soft, wet kisses rapidly morph into pricks of his teeth, his gravelly moans so pleasing to hear.
You arch and tilt your head back as he presses you harder into the couch. The vibranium hand latched onto your jaw, works it open and slides a thumb past your plush lips. You lave your tongue over the digit—the metallic tang flooding your tastebuds. “Good girl—m’close. A little longer.”
Bucky’s panting breaths mingle with yours as his pace turns vicious. Chasing his high that he so desperately needs. Overstimulation bites at your nerves, but with a gentle tug to the soft strands of hair on the back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, Bucky bursts. His moan jumps up an octave, eyes slamming shut as he buries his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he cums. He’s shuddering in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides. You whine and tilt your hips up to prevent it from spilling onto the couch.
Finally he slows to a stop, ragged breathing filling the air as the heat and weight of his body becomes a welcome comfort. Eventually that warmth grows stifling. He lazily pulls away, observing gaze drinking in each inch of bare skin exposed—the marks and the light sheen of sweat. You hiss as he curiously drags his thumb over the bite mark lingering just above your collarbone.
He parts his plush lips but before he can apologize, you interject. “Don’t—I like the reminder.”
Bucky shakes his head and drops down to tempt your lips into a lazy dance. “You’re a weirdo.”
You smile and cup his cheek. “I’m not the one with a staring problem. You know that you can’t kill people by glaring, right?”
Bucky kisses your cheek, your jaw, and then the dip of your throat. “You don’t ever shut up, do you?”
You shudder as his softening cock twitches inside of you, another coal of desire flaring in the pit of your stomach. You flash him a coquettish grin. “Maybe if you give my mouth something to do, you’ll finally get some peace and quiet.”
Something dark and dangerous flickers within those eyes. You shiver as one hand returns to your throat while the other draws teasing patterns over the outside of your thigh. He draws in close, nips at the shell of your ear and chuckles darkly. “You’re on.”
#weLL here we are in a marvel hole kwejrkwejhr#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x fem!reader#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#marvel#the falcon and the winter solider spoilers#tfatws#the avengers x reader#my writing
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patience is a virtue
summary: college!au. all aged up. eren and reader continue with their sexual escapades. find part one here! warnings: 18+ minors dni. dirty text messages, dirty talk. dom!eren and bratty reader (i suppose?). throat fucking and semi-public sex. (no p in v tho) word count: around 3.5k A/N: i have a love/hate relationship with this eren ahaha, he's been ruling my brainrot ever since the last part so i hope you enjoy! there will be a part three eventually, so be on the lookout for that! enjoy your read and feedback is greatly appreciated! xx
you awake to your phone vibrating somewhere next to you. the hope of it only being a one-time occurrence quickly proven to be false as it just wouldn't stop. brr-brr. a second of silence. brr-brr. pause. brr-brr.
taking a mental note to never go to sleep again without turning off your phone, you roll over to your other side and try to ignore it. you could simply answer the texts, but that meant you'd have to open your eyes. and that whoever was texting you would win this weird battle you've just come up with in your head.
"if you don't pick up your goddamn phone, i'll smack you over the head with it," sasha groans from the other side of your shared dorm, words coming slurry with her tiredness.
brr-brr.
"i could also stick it up your ass, your decision," a pillow comes flying to your head, serving as enough of a warning for you to sit up in your bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
"quit moaning, i'll turn it off now," you yawn, feeling around your bed for your phone, "you never hear me complaining about the shit you do in the middle of the night."
"that's because my shit is funny and not fucking annoying," she scoffs, followed by a muted thump as she is sinking back down into her pillows. sasha's way of ending the conversation.
you find your phone half-tucked underneath your pillow, the display already lighting up again. someone is desperate for attention, you think to yourself and unlock your phone with an annoyed sigh. the messages were coming from an unknown number.
thinking about your wet pussy. this is eren, btw. historia gave me your number. i told her you wouldn't mind you don't mind, do you?
in a matter of seconds, your heart is beating in your throat once more, just like this afternoon in that godforsaken computer lab. ears growing hot at his words, you could almost imagine the sound of him laughing at you again. with trembling fingers, you scroll down further.
anyway, let's do it again sometime i told you. i'll never let you forget about how you moaned my name i'm also not forgetting about how badly i want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours, so it's a win-win see ya, then
staring down at your phone, you don't know if you should answer him. and even if you would answer his texts, what the hell should you say? "fucking bastard," the words escaping your mouth before even realizing that you'd better keep quiet. the only thing that could make this situation any worse was if sasha were to wake up again.
scratch that, you think as you see eren's new messages.
how badly do you want to suck my cock? you looked really hot today, covered in my cum what, you're shy again?
there are two ways this could go: either you stand up, put on some clothes, and then go to eren's dorm to let hell rain upon him - or simply mute your phone and ignore him. deciding to go with the latter, you lie back down and save his number as "fuckhead", a small grin forming on your face. if he wants to be childish, then you can be, too.
the display still lighting up at a steady pace, you have to fight the urge to open his other messages. to physically prevent yourself from grabbing your phone again, you put your hands between your thighs and sigh. what the hell have i gotten myself into?
"so, who am i gonna have to teach some manners today?", sasha asks in the morning, "because there are only two valid reasons for sending that many texts in the middle of the night," she sits up in her bed and bends over to reach for her phone, "either someone's dead or there's a food sale."
cringing at the thought of having to read the countless other messages eren has sent throughout the night, you try to laugh at her comment, "of course, when there's food involved, you're all for it."
"girl's gotta eat," she claims, thankfully being too distracted by something on her phone to notice your strange behavior, "i'm gonna be back later than usual today, connie wants me to be his wingman again."
starting to go off on a tangent about how connie should just get a dating app already, sasha's words become more of background noise to you. you want to know what he wrote. what he has in store for you. at the same time, you curse yourself out. you're turning into a headless chicken and all of it because of eren fucking yeager?
you nod here and there, offering her a "yes" at what you believe to be fitting moments, desperately hoping she doesn't catch up on your restlessness. all the while the two of you are getting ready for the day. this goes on for a few more minutes and you have no clue what she's talking about now, so you decide to grab your phone and stand up.
"i'm gonna go for a run around campus, you want coffee?" you blurt out, interrupting her monologue. the device in your hand feels as if it's burning through your skin. slipping into your trainers, you're already halfway out the room, her perplexed "uh- yes, please," being muffled by the door closing behind you.
it's still warm outside - not as hot as yesterday, but warm enough for you to be glad to have forgotten your cardigan earlier. you let out a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. even though you told sasha you'd be out for a run, you walk at a slow pace.
some people are already wandering around campus, most of them on their way to a lecture. at this time in the morning, everyone has their heads full with their own worries so no one notices you slowly making your way off-campus.
arriving at a little park surrounded by trees, you sit down on the bench farest off. you notice your heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird when pulling the phone out of your back pocket. fuck him, you think once again while typing in your code. fuck him for making me feel this way.
12 unread messages.
didn't seem all too shy when i had my hand wrapped around your throat no need to play hard to get when i already had you if that makes sense? haven't fucked you yet doesn't mean i won't get to fuck you
all you want is to feel appalled by these messages. to screenshot them and send them to the dean. maybe even to his mother. sickened with yourself though, you already feel the familiar warmth creeping up your body, curling up in your abdomen.
i know you want it, too how fucking needy you were for me getting yourself off in public to the thought of me maybe you can tell me what exactly you were thinking of? gonna make sure to let your dreams come true, princess
pet names? you clench your fist at the thought of eren leaning over you, breathing the word princess into your ear. you have an inkling that he'd say it mockingly; spitting it out whilst gathering your hair in a ponytail, arching your back forcefully, and slamming his length into you without mercy.
no. you hate pet names. at least, you've always hated them.
i'm gonna find out if you're ignoring me right now remember, you're not the best actress. fucking suck at it, actually wouldn't want to be punished now, would we?
his last message echoed in your head. still coming to terms with the fact of what happened yesterday, now you have to deal with a whole new revelation: eren yeager being a cocky motherfucker pushing all the right buttons for you. even though you want to blast his ass for this, the mere thought of him being near you again is too sweet of an imagination.
you want to play this game, too. for whatever reason keep on riding this high, and you just know that no one could do it quite as well as eren can. somehow you can only imagine taking him on this ride with you, no one else.
so, in that manner you decide to ignore his messages. if he's desperate enough to keep on sending them in the middle of the night, you're sure it won't be long until he sends another text. and it would give him enough reason to try and punish you, whatever that might entail – you're excited to find out. fucking nervous, too. but then again, who wouldn't be?
you stand up and put your phone in your back pocket, a sense of excitement surrounding your steps as you turn left to make your way to the nearest coffee shop.
"something tells me you're ignoring me," of course, the moment eren's voice comes up behind you, you fucking flinch like a little bird that's been scared away, "mostly because i've seen you reading the messages, but what do i know?"
you turn to see him clutching his heart dramatically, "don't play with my feelings like this," he swoons, bringing one hand to his forehead. he's laughing again, all white teeth and bright smiles – you realize this is the kind of eren you rarely get to see. not the cocky bastard he normally portrays; right now, he seems to be a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, just enjoying himself. still, you want to show him that you can play just as well as he can.
crossing your arms in front of your chest, you slightly raise a brow, trying your hardest to not look as nervous as you feel. it's a lost cause though because you can already feel the tips of your ears glowing with heat again. can't things go my way for once? just once? you think and chew the inside of your cheek. you felt so sure of yourself just moments ago. how the hell can he have this sort of effect on you?
suddenly, his whole demeanor changes. before, he seemed laid-back, entertained by the game he played with you. now he leans forward, hands in the pockets of his jacket and an almost cruel smile forming on his lips, "don't try to challenge me in this. you'll lose."
you know that you should feel frightened. terrified, even. he's looking like a lion preparing to jump the antelope, a sense of alarming calmness around him that's causing the small hairs on your neck to stand up. but alas, the way he's looking at you seems to have the same effect on you his scent has.
"i told you not to ignore me," eren says and takes a few steps closer to you, "yet here you are, doing it again." the chuckle leaving his lips a stark contrast to his stern gaze, still trained on you. somehow, you feel awfully small again - still not frightened, though. you stare right back at him, tilting your head slightly as if you wanted to say "so what?"
"are you seriously that desperate to be punished?"
better now than never, you think and once again place a courtly smile on your lips, "seems like it."
for a split second, you see eren's smug look turn into a genuine smile. realizing that you're up for his game, he lets out a smooth whistle, "you do surprise me."
"if you wouldn't always be so full of yourself, i'm sure you'd have recognized this sooner," you can feel the confidence growing in yourself again. clinging on to it, you take a step toward him, "i'm full of surprises."
"oh, yeah? i bet you are," from the corner of your eye, you can see him lifting his hand. before thinking twice about it, you bat it away, "i'm not one for public displays of affection."
oh, it is on– eren's smirk turns into a full-fledged grin as he takes a grip of your wrist, "you sure about that?" lifting your hand to his face, for a short moment you think he's going to suck on your fingers again. but all he does is place a faint kiss on the back of your hand, "didn't seem like it yesterday."
"you weren't supposed to see."
"but i'm so glad i did," he leans forward, the two of you standing so close you can feel his breath on your face, "or else we wouldn't have this kind of fun right now."
still having a hold of your hand, he lifts his other to your jaw, gently tracing his thumb across your lower lip, "you looked so pretty in your skirt yesterday."
taking a leap of faith, you grab his hand, holding it in place and letting your tongue run across the tip of his thumb before biting down playfully. there's a hiss and then eren pulls away and grabs your arm, "come with me."
finally, you think and let him guide you to wherever he wants, let's have some fun, then.
on your way out of the park, you pass jean and marco. even though they stand to greet eren, he just raises his hand whilst not breaking his pace, "gotta go, have an assignment to work on."
"never seen you that determined, but go off," jean laughs.
before you know it, you're inside one of the countless maintenance sheds. pushing you against the wall, eren's movements seem to become more and more erratic by the second. pinning your arms over your head, he's looking down at you, breathing heavily. "you have no idea what you just got yourself into," licking his lips, he chuckles.
"oh, but i think i actually do," you smile innocently, fucking glad to have found your normal self again. admittedly, eren threw you off your game since yesterday – but it's just going to play into your hands now. he won't see it coming until it's hitting him straight in the face; that you're just as messed up as he seems to be.
"then prove it," he breathes against your ear, "tell me how badly you want it."
the stuffy air inside the dimly lit shed doesn't help with keeping eren's scent away from you. being so close to him, looking up into his shadowed face and right into his dilated eyes; you're like putty in his hands. you try to move forward, to touch him in some way because you just know that he'll feel so good under your skin.
"now now, princess," he moves even closer, wedging you between himself and the wall, "how about we learn some patience, first?"
you nod, but then grind up against his thigh, hissing through your teeth, "i worry i'll be a real handful." you know you could very well move your hands, too – eren seems to still be testing the waters as to how far he can go with you. but with him actually letting you grind on him; you decide to play into his hands.
your breaths grow quicker as you keep on, pace becoming erratic. all you want is to get rid of your track pants – come to think of it, what you actually want is eren under you whilst you continuously bounce on his cock. you want to hear him call you princess and immediately after call you his little whore because that's exactly what you are.
eren has a little smile on his lips and you know you should ask yourself why – because you're doing exactly what he has forbidden you to do – but you're too far gone. the heat growing, you feel your knees buckle but he's holding you up; one hand now resting on your waist for support. you're so close –
and then he pulls away from you, nearly causing you to topple over. chest heaving, you place your hands on your knees for balance, "what the fuck was – "
"patience is a virtue," interrupting you with a laugh, but his voice heavy with lust, "thought i might give you a lesson you're ought to remember."
you look up to see eren palming his erection through his pants, standing about an arm's length away from you, "but i have to admit, hearing you getting yourself off is fucking hot."
biting your teeth together, you straighten up and take a step toward him – only for him to click his tongue in disapproval, "you're gonna stay right there," tugging at his pants he raises his eyebrow, "i told you what i want, get on your knees for me."
"the fuck i will," you spit out and make a move again, grasping for his waistband. but eren is quick to take a hold of your hand and pushes you back to the wall, "come on, now, princess," he chuckles but his eyes are concentrated at you, "you want this, don't you?". he's asking for permission, the thought feeling very comforting to you. and also, very excited for what's about to come.
"of course, i do," you answer him earnestly, resting the back of your head against the wall, "or else i wouldn't be here."
"fantastic," he breathes, a little smile playing in the corners of his mouth, "then get down on your knees," placing his hands on your shoulders, weighing you down, "i won't ask again."
the change of tone in his voice has you nodding, slowly sinking onto your knees, you're bursting in anticipation. one hand finally pulling down his pants, he runs his other through your hair, then down your jaw until it comes to rest on your chin.
thumbing at your lower lip, he groans "do i have to be careful?"
you just shake your head no. then you break away from his gaze, fixing your eyes on the bobbing cock in front of you. it's tip leaking with precum already, you remember how badly you wanted to lick it away yesterday.
taking his cock at its base, you bend forward and slide your tongue around its head. the salty taste sending shudders down your spine, you make sure to lift your eyes again once you prepare to take it all down your throat. your other hand snakes up to his balls, slightly tugging them which earns you a moan from eren, and fuck, you're so wet at the sound alone, you let go of his cock and slide one hand down to your own center.
he gathers your hair in one hand, taking the base of his throbbing cock in the other, "bet this is what you thought of yesterday," he slowly but surely pulls your head in closer, "of how i fuck the words right out of you."
bucking your hips into your own hand, you can do nothing but whimper at his words. because yes, this is exactly what you imagined. he's only halfway in and you're already struggling to breathe, but not wanting him to stop you hold your breath and push down even further; trying desperately not to moan.
the tears in your eyes causing your vision to be blurry, you attempt to blink them away.
"shit – ", he's pumping into you now, rubbing the tears from your cheeks and then placing both his hands on your head, "you're doing so well – "
getting lost in his words, the fear of being caught is so far away; you finally moan around his cock. saliva soaking the hem of his shirt, you can't seem to take his whole length, no matter how hard you try. you're a fucking mess under him and the thought alone is nearly sending you over the edge.
he's trying to pull away now and you know he's close, so you snake your hand around his hip, hoping this is enough of a sign to him that if he dared to cum anywhere else than down your throat, you'd bite him.
"you really – " his voice is hoarse, "fuck – this is fucking perfect," he moans as he comes to the realization. leaning his arm against the wall behind you, he's fucking himself into your mouth, his panting and the sound of your choking filling the room.
you close your eyes to blink the tears away again, but eren pulls on your hair, "no – look at me."
with this the knot in your belly explodes, leaving you holding on to eren's hip as you ride the waves of electricity that are running through your body like lava.
"such a good little whore – " he's gone as well, holding your head in place as he's pumping his load down your throat, leaving you no other option than to swallow – which you eagerly do. you feel his legs shaking under your hands.
once again, eren hands you his shirt to clean your face. this time, you take it with a smile, noting that, "i still have your other one."
"don't worry, i'll come get it sometime when sasha's away," the two of you know exactly what this means – neither of you are planning on this to be over anytime soon.
"i'll let you know, then," you nod and stand up, hoping you don't look as well-fucked as you feel, and make your way to the door, "she's gone most of the time."
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#eren yeager smut#eren x you#eren jaeger smut#eren x reader#aot smut#aot x you#snk smut#snk x you#aot fic#eren fic#college au#tw: semi public sex#nsfr#weepinglevi writes
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Hello hello! I've seen your Kazuha, Ayaka and Yoimiya with a really unlucky s/o and i liked it a lot! Can i maybe request the same thing but this time reader is very lucky?
Kazuha, Ayaka, and Yoimiya With A Very Lucky S/o
Notes: Yay! My first ask! Hopefully you like it! Y/n is enby. Also sorry it took so long to answer, school suddenly happened and didn't have that much time to write
Word count: 700 words
Kazuha
You’re his good luck charm now
Everywhere he goes, you come with, as long as you’re okay with it
Kazuha doesn’t want to force you to go anywhere you don’t want to go!
Once, Kazuha mentioned how he likes nature and so you set up a picnic in a flower field
And apparently not even Kazuha knew this flower field existed!
“This is quite a beautiful flower field my love, but not a single flower here comes close to your beauty. I would like to know how you found this place, if you are willing to tell me.”
Kazuha finds some comfort if the fact that you are very lucky because then he doesn’t need to worry so much for you
Though he would like to be your knight in shining armor however your luck prevents him from doing that
It seems that that idea will be something that will stay in his poems
If you’re the kind of lucky that always has something bad happen to the before something lucky *cough cough* Nagito *cough* then Kazuha is there to help you through whatever happened
If you’re worried that your luck will harm Kazuha then he will tell you that there is no danger that can cause him harm
“Beloved, you look sad, what’s wrong? You’re worried that your luck will cause harm to me… Love, I am a trained warrior and a wandering samurai, there is nothing that can harm me and nothing I can’t protect you from. Now then, let me dry your tears, they don’t suit such a pretty face”
Ayaka
Your luck puts her more at ease, though she does still prefer to have you under the protection of someone even if she knows you’ll be fine
Ayaka just can’t help but be worried for you no matter if you have good luck or bad luck
When you learned that Ayaka liked poetry and tea, you decided to try your hand at making some tea and poetry and according to Ayaka, it was the greatest tea she’s ever had and the most beautiful poetry she’s ever read
“Y/n, where did you get this tea? It’s absolutely delightful! And this poetry is quite good as well….You made this? Well you did a wonderful job, you should be proud!”
Good luck or bad, Ayaka will worry about you no matter what
It’s not that she thinks that you can’t defend yourself is something bad happens, it’s just that she doesn’t want to lose you
If you trust your luck a lot and tend to do reckless things then Ayaka will try to stop from hurting yourself
Though you always get away without a scratch from your actions, Ayaka is still going to lecture you for your recklessness, unharmed or not
“Y/n! Don’t ever do that again! You almost gave me a heart attack! It would look good if you accidentally killed the Shirisagi Himegimi herself, now would it?”
Yoimiya
Much like Kazuha, she uses you like a good luck charm
Every time Yoimiya has to set up some fireworks for an event, she always brings you with her (If you want of course) just to make sure that nothing goes wrong
She doesn’t worry that much about you doing something dangerous because she knows that you’ll be fine after
If you do get hurt then she’ll tell you to be a little more careful and put a bandaid over the wound
Even if the wound is small Yoimiya still doesn’t want her s/o to get hurt!
“Hey y/n! I’m gonna go set up some fireworks for the children to watch, wanna come with? Perfect, you’re free, now I’ve got the perfect place to watch, follow me!”
If you tend to do reckless acts because you know you’ll be fine them Yoimiya is going to be your hype woman
You’re about to fight a camp of hilicurls? Those hilichurls won’t know what hit them! She’ll support you no matter what you do, unless it harms people, that’s a no go for her
Yoimiya just wants to make sure you’re having fun and if doing potentially dangerous acts is fun for you, then she’s not gonna stop you
When writing this I googled “Non binary terms for partner” and one option was lovebug and Yoimiya would definitely call her s/o lovebug, you can’t change my mind -Dragon Queen
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#kazuha x reader#genshin kazuha#kazuha fluff#kamisato ayaka#genshin ayaka#ayaka x reader#yoimiya#genshin yoimiya#yoimiya x reader#Dragon Queen Writes
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Your so great at writing omg- so could you do a part two of the yandere techno and philza?
And other idea for a different request!
Maybe ghostbur? 👀 With florist reader? And someone burned down there shop so they are very upset so ghostbur comforts them and helps build then a new one?
Again please take as long as you need.
- Your beloved Moosh ( platonically! :3)
Moosh, darling! Hello! How are you doing today? Part two of the yandere Tech and Phil chapter is up! Thank you for your requests, your ideas are just chefs kiss!
This is a tad bit short. I really really have to get out of the habit of writing 10k+ stories, because then I have no energy to write the other requests that have been waiting for a while <3
Also. This turned out to be angstier than I had hoped...
TW: Depression, emotion repression, large mentions of past Wilbur x Reader
Dead Blue Flowers (C!Ghostbur x GN!Depressed!Reader)
How...? How did this happen?
You tried so hard to remain neutral in this war, even going as far as to avoid telling people your opinions on things. Wasn't raising your tax weekly back when Schlatt was in control enough?
You just gave people flowers, for god's sake! Why did they have to burn the shop to nothing but cinders?!
Standing in front of the charred frame of your shop that had once been your prized possession. Every dollar you had raised, every smile that appeared on the faces of people you gave flowers to... You remembered the genuine smile on Wilbur's face when he gave you this plot of land to build whatever store you wanted...
Now it was all ashes that slipped through the cracks between your fingers...
"(Y/n)?" An echoing and airy voice echoed through your ears and you glanced up slightly to see a pair of shoes levitating a few inches off the ground, "What happened to your shop- Oh, you're crying, here. Take some blue. Calm yourself."
Crying?
While the levitating figure dug around, trying to find this so-called blue, you rose your hands up and touched your cheeks to find them slightly damp. When you pulled your hands away, a small cold pouch of blue dye was carefully placed in your hands, causing a small shiver to crawl down your spine, "Thanks, Bur..." You whispered softly, trying to smile to calm him down, but you just found your eyes welling up with more tears, so you put your head down in an attempt to hide them from your ghost friend.
"Did it not work? Perhaps that blue was broken..." Ghostbur reached into his small bag with his dye-stained fingers, digging around for a pouch of dye that wasn't 'broken'. You could feel a faint bit of panic in his voice as he mumbled about how blue always worked for him, so he didn't know why it wasn't working for you.
"No, Bur... It's just... I don't know what to do. My shop is gone. It was my pride and joy. Now I don't have anything left..." You murmured, holding the, now two, dye-filled packages in your cupped hands, "Even the cornflower seeds I used to make the blue flowers I gave you... They're nothing now... His mem- I'm nothing now..."
Ghostbur was panicking and the blue clutched in his hands was evident of that, "No, no! Don't say things like that! Come, come-" He gave a few coughs, his negative emotions seeming to affect him physically as well as emotionally.
You slowly pushed yourself up into a standing position, rubbing your eyes with your sleeves as your fingertips were tainted with dye. While you didn't feel much happier, despite Ghostbur's best efforts, you knew that emotionally he couldn't handle your sadness, "Thanks, Bur. I do feel much happier thanks to your blue. I'm gonna head home now." You gave him your best smile, watching as the sweater-wearing spirit studied your eyes to see if you were lying.
"Oh, okay!" The ghost perked up slightly, but his smile looked a tad bit hollow in your eyes. Guess you were in no place to judge, you did just give your best friend a smile to get him to stop panicking... Was this emotion suppression? Probably. Yeah. Ah well... As long as he's happy now. "I'm gonna go see Phil now, maybe you should come to visit sometime soon. He makes really good tea and biscuits."
"Yeah... I'll hop by his place sometime soon." You gave him the empty promise, knowing very well you didn't want anything to do with social interactions for quite a while until you found something else to put your time towards.
Over the next few days, Ghostbur would wait outside your house for you to come out and walk with you to your flower shop, but he then began to realize that you had nothing to walk to. Hell, you didn't have a reason to leave your house anymore... There was no point in coming outside. After standing under the awning above your front door for a few moments, he got an idea in his head, so he set off towards the house of Alivebur's father.
"Phiiiiiil?" He called softly, opening the front door to see the injured avian sitting in his chair in front of the fireplace, "Ah, Philza! Just the man I wanted to see!"
"Hey mate," The blond greeted softly, setting his cup of tea down on the table before getting up to properly interact with the ghost of his son, "What do ya' need from me?"
For a few seconds, hesitance filled Ghostbur's veins. He hadn't completely thought through this idea and didn't even know how you or Phil would react to it, "My ange- best friend, (Y/n)... Well, they were very very important to Alivebur, and I still have many happy memories of them... But they aren't happy now because someone burnt down their flower shop... They haven't left their house in a few days, and I'm getting a really bad feeling, Phil!" Despite the fact that a pouch of blue was tightly grasped in his hands, the ghost didn't seem to be feeling any calmer, ultimately chalking it up to the flowers he had made the dye out of must've been from a bad place.
Philza grabbed onto the ghost of his son, giving a faint hiss of pain at the icy buzz that attacked his palms, but ignored it and kept his hands on his son's shoulders. Or what was left of the son he killed, "Wil- Ghostbur. Calm down. I want you to go visit them and make sure they're still okay-"
"But I think they'll only be okay if their shop is built! I want to rebuild it for them!" Ghostbur whined softly, not exactly understanding why he felt so strongly towards you, "Alivebur really really cared about them, which means I care about them. And they're sad, even with the blue I gave them..."
Phil pursed his lips together, trying to keep quiet about exactly why Wilbur cared about you so much, "Okay, okay... I want you to go visit them and find the blueprints of their shop... If-If you can't, then I'm sure we can build something similar... Just please, make sure they're alive, eating and taking care of themselves..."
"Alive? Of course they're alive- right? right, Phil?" Ghostbur hiccuped slightly, bringing up his dye-stained fingers to his mouth in shock when the avian hesitated, "Phil?"
"Just, go check on them Wil... Please."
Without another word, the ghost hurried out the door and looked up at the rapidly darkening sky, as he floated towards the person his alive self adored so greatly. "(Y/n)... Why did Alivebur care for you so much? Why did he want you in his life so bad?" When the transparent male arrived at your door, he hurriedly pounded his fists on the door before pressing himself against it to hide under the awning as rain began to sprinkle down from the sky, "(Y/n)! Please, it's raining!" He cried, not wanting to melt.
There was a few seconds of silence before there was a rushing sound of footsteps coming from the inside of the house. Before the ghost could react, the door flew open, causing him to tumble onto the floor inside the house, "Bur! You should've checked the weather!"
He looked up at his saviour... And gave the softest smile he's ever worn. Even it had only been a few days, he began to realize just how much you meant to him as well, not just Alivebur. You were a guardian angel... A saviour from reality...
"Y-yeah, I know..." You murmured, trying to flatten down your unbrushed hair before shrinking away from your friend's gaze and into your oversized sweater that had once been Wilbur's, "I haven't really bothered to... Uhm... manage my appearance..."
"No worries, angel..." He blurted out, causing you to flinch as you stared at him. He didn't even know why he called you that to be completely honest, but he pushed himself off of your floor and dusted himself free of invisible dust, "Why haven't you been coming outside? I've been waiting outside for you every day... Phil was also worried about you losing a life in here alone!"
Pursing your lips together, you couldn't help but avoid the gaze of the ghost as you shut the door, "Sorry Bur, I've just been really tired..." You gave him a tired smile, but this time it didn't work on the poor ghost.
"I- I uhm... I know I'm forgetful, I know I'm an amnesiac, but I still feel this... I still feel things, and I try my best to make sure no one else feels it... But it's not working for helping you." He nervously grabbed onto a pouch of blue in his messenger bag, gritting his teeth together for a moment, "I figured out why that shop means so much to you... It's because it was a gift from Alivebur... Your lover... And now you feel like you have nothing left to hold his memory."
He watched as your eyes went wide and beginning to fill with tears before he went to his bag, going to grab some blue for you, but he paused upon seeing something else. A cornflower, one that never got turned into a dye, but it was withered and dead from being in the bag for so long, "Wil-Gho... Bur..." You hiccuped, trying to form words to create an apology, but your throat felt like it was tied in knots.
"That's also why you call me Bur... Because you don't want to accept that Aliv-... Wilbur... Is now a ghost..." He walked closer to you and put his hand on your arms, thankfully you were wearing a sweater to prevent frostbite from attacking your skin, "And that's okay! It's okay, (Y/n), you loved him... And he loved you, which means I love you... but I know you need time to cope with Al- Wilbur's... Death..." He carefully reached up and took your wrist, bringing your hand up into view so he could press the dead cold cornflower into your palm, "Until then, I'll stay by your side as your best friend..."
You slowly reached up and put your hand against his cheek, even though the contact burned your fingertips and he hardly felt solid... He was there... "Thank you... Ghostbur." You lowered your hand and smiled down at the dead flower in your palm.
"Now, come on, let's get you cleaned up! Me and Phil will help you rebuild your flower shop... When the rain lets up of course!"
#dream smp#ghostbur#ghostbur x reader#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur soot#wilbur dream smp#dsmp wilbur#mcyt x reader#c!wilbur#dsmp ghostbur#ghostbur dream smp#mcyt fanfiction#mcyt imagine#mcyt oneshots#dream smp x reader#wilbur x reader
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Confronting Past Life Pick a Pile
What wounds do you carry from a past life and how can you begin to mend your soul?
Please remember that this is a general reading and some things may not apply to you. Don't force it to fit. I offer paid readings on my page if you would like a personal reading. Prices are listed there. Please message me or email me if you are interested!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/aa39adb4892e23f4a3edaa0d06bf566b/a5005637d5afde78-f7/s540x810/cb58115c70321ca38c4cecfb2edd70b04b9e7bcb.jpg)
Pile One (Sodalite):
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4809fd30dc475a8c2f387c4e3341442b/a5005637d5afde78-7d/s540x810/d3ec11a99e7322f66576003e54fb1eff97e164a9.jpg)
Who were you in a relevant past life?
Queen of Pentacles:
You were a very sensual and loving person in a past life. Over the course of your life, you were an extremely hard worker and accumulated great success. Having enough money enabled you to surround yourself with the things you loved, including nature and animals. The people in your life knew they could count on you to help them when they needed it, especially when it came to financial support.
What is something unresolved from that life?
Three of Pentacles:
In this lifetime you may have been a celebrity, and as a result of your success, you were the subject of jealousy from many people. These people tried spreading lies about the way you earned your success. Since they wanted what you had and saw how humble you were, they hated you for it, so they made up rumors about you as a result. You really tried to spread love rather than hate, especially when it came to these people. You thought you could teach people to be nice and not to be hateful. You tried to achieve this with all your might, but it was not possible, unfortunately.
You may have been an earth sign, Virgo, Taurus, or Capricorn, in your past life or in this life.
You could also have an Aquarius North Node.
How does it affect you in this life?
Five of Pentacles:
You really struggle in this lifetime to accumulate success and wealth. Despite your efforts, you still struggle to make enough money to support yourself and those you love. Success does not come as easily to you in this lifetime.
Why do you need to complete that unresolved issue?
Strength:
With your current struggles, you also have trouble having the strength to deal with the issues. You are capable of getting through the difficulties you are facing, but you lack the confidence in yourself to do so. This issue of a lack of confidence must be resolved so that you can channel your inner strength to begin accumulating more wealth and success.
How can you complete that unresolved issue?
Justice:
For some, you may feel you need to cheat the system to get what you desire. The appearance of this card alerts you to the fact that you shouldn't go forward with that. To resolve the issues you are facing, you need to be fair. In addition, you should not second-guess your success. To me, it feels as though all the negativity you couldn't overcome in the past life is affecting you now, making you feel unworthy of success, or incapable of being successful. Do not fall into the trap of not believing in yourself. It is essential that you let go of your fears if you are to overcome these challenges.
What is an important lesson you need to fully understand?
King of Wands:
The lack of confidence prevents you from pursuing your desires, and as a consequence, you lack the drive and passion to do so. The lesson you need to learn is that you need passion and drive to succeed. Your success in your past life was easy and you didn't have to work hard for it, but in this lifetime you must learn to work hard for what you want.
What is an energy/characteristic that you should channel from that life?
The Devil:
In your current life, you need to tap into the strong-willed nature you had in your past life. You never let anything bring you down in the past and you struggle to do this in this current life. Your strong-willed nature will help you overcome your struggles of accumulating success and allow you to become confident in yourself.
Channeled Messages from Guides:
“You are our answered prayer.”
“Magic exists in the form of energy. What is your energy creating today? How does it make you feel?”
Letters:
R
X
I
E
Q
Blank - whatever you feel fits.
Pile Two (Green Aventurine Moon):
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7d9626df9d917b9a80433055d3a57d31/a5005637d5afde78-fa/s540x810/5b41bc900a4276a30b61bd77cfd3d4509fd85246.jpg)
Who were you in a relevant past life?
Seven of Wands:
You were very altruistic in this past life. Fighting against oppression. You stood your ground and were an ally to people who needed someone on their side. You were very courageous and determined in your convictions. It seems to me that you took part in many protests. Perhaps you formed groups that fought for people who were being mistreated.
What is something unresolved from that life?
Ten of Wands:
In your past life, you worked very hard to achieve your goal, but it seems like you never succeeded. Your hard work did not pay off in that lifetime. Many of you may have given up when nothing seemed to be happening and your work was ineffective.
How does it affect you in this life?
King of Wands:
There was so much passion in that past life, but all your hard work didn't pay off. Therefore, in this lifetime, you carry that sadness of not achieving what you set your heart on. Since your soul still hasn't healed from your past wounds, you lack the passion to pursue your desires. This wound also leaves you lacking confidence in pursuing your goals.
It's possible that you were a Fire sign in that life or this life, Aries, Leo, or Sagittarius.
Why do you need to complete that unresolved issue?
Ten of Swords:
This soul wound is causing a great deal of destruction in your life. You lack the confidence and passion to pursue your desires, and this affects all areas of your life, including romance, career, school, and health. It seems that every time you try to follow your dreams, you self-sabotage, and things crumble around you, leaving you wondering why you did that. This is your soul wound that still needs to be healed.
How can you complete that unresolved issue?
Knight of Wands:
Find your passion and enthusiasm in this life. Seek out activities that bring out your more enthusiastic side. Bring passion back into your life by discovering new things.
Six of Cups:
Additionally, you could try doing things you were passionate about in your past life. Maybe you should join a group that works to combat oppression. Make your voice heard and stand up for what you believe in.
What is an important lesson you need to fully understand?
The Magician:
Willpower is the key to The Magician's success. They set their intentions and then follow through on them. This is your lesson for this lifetime. You need to start setting and achieving goals. Do not give up like you did in the past.
What is an energy/characteristic that you should channel from that life?
King of Pentacles:
It is the King of Pentacles who pursues their goals until the very end. They do not worry about losing out on anything, as they are very confident and secure within themselves. This is how you were in the past, and this is what you need to channel in this life in order to heal.
Channeled Messages from Guides:
“Take charge of your schedule during this busy time and honestly assess your underlying reasons for being busy.”
“Times of heightened emotions and sensitivity call for extra self-care and gentleness.”
Letters:
I
I
A
K
V
E
Pile Three (Rose Quartz):
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f91e0af0f323348c402fba9d6a2b80d4/a5005637d5afde78-8d/s540x810/f36b786a00cc75580178fc4fa04a2757dfef4687.jpg)
Who were you in a relevant past life?
The Devil (reversed):
In a past life, you struggled with addictions, and most of your life was devoted to freeing yourself from those addictions. For most of your life, you were becoming self-aware, understanding your purpose and how you can be healthy.
The Moon (reversed):
You felt pretty unhappy in your past life too, feeling very anxious. It was this that pushed you to break free from addictions and fears, along with your negativity.
What is something unresolved from that life?
The World (reversed):
In your pursuit to be free of these things, it seems that you didn't fully succeed. Though you were successful in letting go of those addictions and fears, you still struggled to feel complete and happy. The whole focus of your life seemed to be on becoming healthy, and once you reached your goal, you didn't know what to do with your life. You had no clue what your passions were, and what made you happy.
How does it affect you in this life?
Eight of Pentacles:
The drive and passion you need to excel at your career or hobbies are lacking in this lifetime. You really struggle to maintain a job or hobby long enough to become good at it. Because of your soul wounds, you have difficulty sticking with one thing for a long period of time.
Why do you need to complete that unresolved issue?
The Lovers:
You are really struggling to fall in love not only with others and things but also with yourself because of this wound. Due to your fear of commitment, you struggle to maintain one thing in your life, so you don't really know what makes you happy. You don't know how to love yourself. You need to heal from this wound in order to begin to love yourself and others.
How can you complete that unresolved issue?
Four of Swords:
You need to slow down and rest. Stop jumping from one thing to another. Put an end to not letting yourself get comfortable. It is okay to devote a lot of time and energy to one passion. It doesn't mean you're missing out on life, as long as it makes you happy. You need rest to heal.
What is an important lesson you need to fully understand?
The Empress:
In this lifetime you need to understand that by not staying in place for a long period of time you are running from your growth. Also, what you're running from is your abundant future. If you genuinely want to feel happy and secure in your life, you must learn to stick with one thing and stick with it until the very end. Your life will be filled with abundance if you do this.
What is an energy/characteristic that you should channel from that life?
Queen of Pentacles:
The Queen of Pentacles is very loving and warm. Their hard work has made them very successful in life. In your past life, you stuck with your journey of being healthy and free from negativity. You need to channel that hard work and warmth in this lifetime. This is what will help you.
Channeled Messages from Guides:
“Are you ready? Are you sure? There is no turning back now.”
“Unlock the magick within.”
Letters:
H
E
T
O
E
O
Pile Four (Goldstone Star):
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/faed65808d0eaa0a5027f7632f588427/a5005637d5afde78-41/s540x810/b49aab13570a77d9bfe1acb5eeda7324d11e2857.jpg)
Who were you in a relevant past life?
Knight of Swords:
You were very socially adept in your past life. It was your quick wit and charm that really attracted others to you. Your lack of humility was made worse by your inflated sense of self-importance, which also gave you the ability to lead well. Despite your lack of patience, your aggressive side made you successful.
What is something unresolved from that life?
Ten of Wands:
Your life's goal was to be in a position of power because you knew you would be a great leader. However, you never reached your goal. Although you came close to achieving your end goal, you fell short. Some of you may have been in politics.
How does it affect you in this life?
The Hanged Man:
Every time you feel as though you are doing well, it seems as though you have to make some sacrifices to keep that success, and these sacrifices are either too difficult to make or they never work. Therefore, you are unable to achieve success.
Ten of Swords:
It seems impossible for you to achieve success as well as a leadership position in this lifetime. It seems that nothing you do pays off and life constantly throws disaster after disaster your way. It seems that everything comes tumbling down whenever you start feeling good about your situation.
Why do you need to complete that unresolved issue?
Knight of Cups:
You struggle to remain optimistic in life as a result of all the negative experiences you have had. Romance and charm don't seem like a part of your nature, you don't have the time or energy for them. You have dealt with disaster after disaster and have no energy or desire to be a romantic, optimistic person.
How can you complete that unresolved issue?
Two of Cups:
Allow yourself to be romanced. You've been running away from this part of yourself for a long time now because you don't want to get your hopes up. You can heal yourself by being romantic with yourself and allowing others to romance you. You need to fall in love and experience true love in order to heal the wounds from your past life.
What is an important lesson you need to fully understand?
Five of Swords:
You have felt defeated almost all of your life in this lifetime and do not understand why you are being treated unfairly. As part of your lessons for this lifetime, you are to feel defeated and let that defeat direct you towards success because you never allowed that to happen in your past life. In the past, you gave up when faced with defeat, but in this lifetime you must persevere.
Ace of Cups:
Because you considered pure love to be beneath you in your previous life, you never experienced it. Your pursuit of success drove you. This life lesson is about learning to love innocently and purely. Do not run away from those emotions, but rather let them wash over you.
What is an energy/characteristic that you should channel from that life?
Queen of Swords:
Naturally, the Queen of Swords is a quick thinker and pretty smart. Every situation they encounter is viewed lucidly by them. In the past, you were like this, and this is how you should be now. Your success in this life will be further enhanced if you channel this energy.
Channeled Messages from Guides:
“Abundance, love, and wealth are coming your way.”
“The worse is now behind you and you are surmounting any previous challenges.”
Letters:
L
E
R
U
N
I
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