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Water Resistant Ripstop Cargo Pants
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Pentagon Rogue Jeans Pants
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there’s something about the way your bodysuit rides up that makes rick lose his better judgment - and do things like pull down your pants and drag you to the bedroom.
“rick,” you breathe.
“this is how it opens, right?” he undoes the snaps between your legs.
“yes, but what abou-,”
“no one cares about the laundry right now.”
yeah, you wouldn’t, you think as he unceremoniously hikes your gray bodysuit up. the bodysuit you thought would pair well with the cargo pants you’d been wearing until the man flipping you over had stripped you of them.
stomach to the duvet, you hear footsteps on the stairs.
fuck! it better not be carl. you’re praying whoever it is walks away or rick separates himself from you for just long enough to shut the door.
“help me take off her top.” rick instructs and swift on his feet, daryl is in front of you.
“arms.”
you oblige and extend your limbs to allow him to peel the now inside out garment off of you.
“ouch!” you yelp when you feel a sudden sting on your bottom. “what-,” you turn around to see rick with a hand poised on top of your reddening flesh and a finger working towards your cunt.
rick forces another yelp out of you when the next slap lands on your pussy. this is not how you saw your tuesday afternoon going.
you crane your head enough to lock eyes with daryl. your doe eyes are all he needs to unbuckle his pants. frowning, you bring yourself upright enough to help him.
“not even a how was your day?” you jest through parted lips.
“sorry, can’t think straight when you’re just laying like this with the door open.”
“thanks for shuttin’ it,” the older man says and daryl nods.
“well, you owe me a nap after this.” you insist, breath becoming uneven again as rick curls two fingers into you.
“you want a nap, you say?” rick questions, adding his tongue into the equation.
you arch into him. “yes-, i-,” you gasp. “fuck.”
“can’t believe you got ‘er like that already.” daryl remarks, removing himself from his underwear.
you’re sure you can feel the shape of rick’s smirk beneath you as he speeds up both his fingers and tongue. it’s perfect timing because right as your mouth is opening to exhale nice and wide, daryl takes his opportunity to slot into your mouth.
rick has been building you up just to knock you down. every time his tongue drags across your core you can’t help but clamp your thighs down around him, unable to withstand the way he puckers his lips and downright teases your sopping entrance.
three fingers and a twisting tongue is what it takes to turn teasing to total annihilation as you start to fall forward on daryl. your shuddering legs keep on until rick is bracing them open.
“fuck,” you whimper with a mouth full of cock.
above you, daryl gets a front row seat to observe as rick licks your first orgasm of the day out of you. watching your eyes roll back with his dick in your mouth has to be one of the best parts of the redneck’s day so far.
“damn, baby, you needed rick to lick you stupid, huh?”
you can only nod and bob down on daryl. he’s more than happy to guide you and enjoy all the little noises rick is maneuvering out of you with his fingers on daryl’s cock in the form of mewling vibrations.
thoroughly opened up, your legs are still shaking when you feel rick behind you. so preoccupied with daryl, rick’s girth knocking into you comes as a surprise. not for either of the men above though. daryl in particular relishes in every thrust that sends you further down his length.
four blue eyes are fixed on you throughout it all. fixated on how eagerly you swallow daryl, how wet you’ve been this entire time, and the filthy wet squelch echoing.
“you can’t be comin’ already?” daryl questions incredulously when he notices your telltale signs.
hollowing your cheeks, you just try to focus on not choking on the thick cock in your mouth. it’s hard to focus at all with the older man behind you ramming into you at top speeds. not when he’s so deep that he’s brushing your cervix. the feeling of how full you are with him inside of you is enough to have slick running down your thighs again and tears welling in your eyes.
you don’t expect the jolt - the joint sensation on your bottom and inside your molten hot core as you clench around rick, seeing spots as he spears you on top of him through it.
rick maintains a hand on your ass; occasionally, lifting the other just to rain it down on your soft rear. “love seein’ you in that bodysuit, honey,” he’s panting, rocking into you while you tighten around him. “you’re so perfect. so fuckin’ tight for me. fuck.”
you feel daryl twitch inside of you first. then it’s one rough gag that has his hands in your hair while he coats your throat.
daryl is bringing a tissue to your mouth and rick is already on fetching a towel for the mess he made between your legs.
“so, you’ll take a nap with me?” you look from rick between your legs to daryl beside you, both whom seem to be crafting a rebuttal. “nope!” you shake your head, not letting them deny you this. “never mind, no room for arguing. just room for you guys, in this bed.” you plop back and pull them with you, hand in hand.
rick usually has some huffing about patrol or duties to do but instead he’s settling onto the soft mattress next to you. daryl’s on your other side, a hand in your hand and on your thigh.
“mhm, c’mere, darlin’,” rick clutches you closer to land a kiss on your temple. as he ruffles your hair, daryl is pressed against your heartbeat with a hand skirting dangerously close to your inner thighs again.
what a perfect way to spend your tuesday afternoon.
#the walking dead#rickyl#rick grimes x reader#daryl dixon x reader#rick grimes#daryl dixon#rick grimes smut#daryl dixon smut#twd imagine#twd smut#twd#rick grimes imagine#daryl dixon imagine#rickyl x reader#not beta read#threes0me#f/m/m#blowy#p in v sex#dumbificat!on#still getting the hang of writing smut#grimesgirll#aftercare#ditzy thought fr
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MISSING PERSONS ARTICLE (5/10/ NULL):
An extract from a local article published by The Weekly Hermit on the 5th of October (Year: NULL). Covered by Pixlriffs [Pen Name] –DISAPPEARING ACT, The Bachelor Who Vanished In Thin Air
[MEMORY : 1/2 ] [MEMORY : 2/2 - HERE]
>[READ ARTICLE?]
They were young and unafraid, Joel [LASTNAME] alongside friend Scar [LASTNAME] would venture on a hiking trip around the mountains only to vanish without a trace.
With the Joel engaged and set to be married to the current head of the Fairy Fort Resort ranger Lizzie [LASTNAME], accounts state that him along with best man Scar were last seen on the 22nd of September in the safety of Hiker’s Checkpoint, a popular camping destination of the Last Life woodlands.
“He said it was supposed to be an ‘act of bravery’. He wanted to prove he was strong to me.” A distraught Lizzie recounts.
“I knew Scar was acting rather off the last few weeks, but I never expected he would just.. Up and run away like this. Especially with someone as inexperienced to hiking as Joel – I didn’t think they would go this far!” witness and former roommate of Scar, Grian, relays to the press.
Further interviews with the witnesses on the day of the disappearance recount in agreeance to meet the two at the Fairy Fort Reserve, a small group had held an early-morning farewell bachelor party at the Hiker’s Checkpoint, where the two would begin their 3-day trip along the marked Mycelium Trail to the wedding venue on the 25th of October.
Joel was last seen wearing a thick brown sheepskin sweater, brown pants, and worn white-and-green running shoes - with his most noticeable feature being green, dyed highlights in his hair. Scar was last seen donning a brown aviator's jacket above a black, multi-purpose utility jacket and white plaid flannel with blue cargo pants - most noticeable feature being the green bandanna found at the checkpoint.
Prior background given by loved ones and witnesses of the party reveal that the wellbeing of Joel, a novice hiker, would still be under the guidance of friend Scar who is reported to have years of experience of hiking both within and beyond the hiking trails of the woodlands.
Reports to the authorities of their disappearance were made just 24-hours past the expected date by the Fairy Fort Reserve and the duo would be officially declared missing on the 28th of September. Several smaller search parties made within the FFR, Lizzie admits, were held prior to making the decision on contact around the reserve and the Hiker’s Checkpoint. A larger, more extensive investigation along the Mycelium Trail was held from the 28th onwards as more people volunteered and potential witnesses were questioned.
The Mycelium Trail is a relatively accessible route for both man and off-road vehicles to traverse between various locations in the Last Life woodlands. While recordings of the weather at this time of year had been colder than usual, there had been no signs of snow, rainfall or forest fires that would hinder the mens’ trip.
A total of 78 individuals have participated in the search for our runaway bachelor and avid adventure-lover with little succession as damp footprints of the missing, Scar’s green bandanna, a set of binoculars belonging to Scar, and two discarded lighters and canteens found within the bounds of the Hiker’s Checkpoint.
Suspect of foul play between the men were brought up in questioning but was avidly rejected by witnesses and investigators for lack of motive even considering Grian’s accounts on Scar’s unusual behavior. Further theories relating to mentions of exploring the nearby Magical Mt were also suspect and a smaller search party made closer to the foot of the mountain was conducted to no avail due to the frigid weather. Urgencies from Lizzie to authorities in further investigation within the mountain were set forth and ultimately rejected due to windy weather and unstable, difficult-to-cross terrain.
As of current release, the status of Joel and Scar remains unknown. For information leading to the safe return of Joel [LASTNAME] and Scar [LASTNAME] please contact [NUMBER REMOVED] at the Fairy Fort Reserve investigation team.
>[ARTICLE ENDS HERE]
#stufffsart#myart#last life apocalypse au#gtws#goodtimeswithscar#gtwscar#smallishbeans#ldshadowlady#[mentioned]#last life#last life smp#life series#life smp#trafficblr
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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 13
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Azriel x Reader Fic
Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.
Find other parts here: Master List
To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.
Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.
Word Count: 1.8k
Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.
Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.
When the sun rose and light peeked through the gaps in the curtains, you allowed yourself to rise from bed, savoring the feel of the blankets beneath your fingers as you took deep, steadying breaths. Finally, you pulled yourself up and opened the armoire to find clothes Feyre had given you throughout your stay. At the bottom of the closet, you discovered a rucksack filled with clothing for all climates, fresh skeins of water, and various dried fruits and ready-to-make meals. You dug through the bag, wondering who could have left it for you. Nesta, perhaps? You shook your head, smiling lightly as you dressed, pulling out a cable-knit sweater and layering it over a turtleneck. You opted for green cargo pants and a knit blue wool jacket, then pulled on a pair of hiking boots. You tied your hair into a braid, securing the end with the ribbon Anthea had given you, allowing your fingers to linger over the frayed ends as you looked at yourself in the mirror.
You slung the rucksack over your shoulder and walked into the hallway, knowing you would need to find someone to bring you to the ground or face the many stairs that would have you walking until nightfall. As you made your way down the hall, you heard indistinct chatter behind a closed door in the common room.
“You’re sure?” a deep male voice asked.
“Absolutely,” Rhysand responded.
“How is that possible?” the deep voice asked.
“When my father was High Lord, diplomatic affairs were very different. There weren’t strict border enforcements, and he and my father were quite close.”
A scoff from the deeper-voiced male.
“So you think it’s possible that he’s her father?” Azriel’s voice interjected.
You paused. They were talking about you.
“I would recognize that voice anywhere,” Rhysand responded.
“She was a child. Who knows what she accurately remembers,” the deep voice replied.
“Where else would she know his voice?” Rhysand countered.
There was a pause as you pressed your ear closer to the door.
“So what do we do?” Azriel asked finally. “Do we tell her?”
“What good would that do?” the deeper voice asked.
“For her safety, we can’t tell her anything,” Rhysand responded.
“So we just sit with this information?” Azriel asked, irritation lacing his voice.
Rhysand shot back, “What would you prefer, Azriel? That we tell her and risk not knowing what will happen afterward?”
“What do you think she would do?” Azriel asked.
“I don’t know,” Rhysand replied.
Azriel’s voice grew louder, “She has no other family. Is it not wrong of us to keep this from her? What if she wants to go to him?”
The deep voice responded, “You want her to go live with them? That messed up family?”
“I don’t think that’s for us to decide,” Azriel shot back.
“You know how they treat their females,” the deep voice responded.
Azriel said nothing.
The deep voice then continued, “Rhys, what do you want us to do?”
“I want you to keep this quiet for now. For all we know, he’s still looking for her.”
Azriel, hesitantly but with a touch of frustration, asked, “What about her mate?”
Your heart caught in your throat.
A pause from all of them. “That is not our concern,” Rhysand responded.
Azriel’s voice grew louder. “She’s running from him, Rhys! We can’t just do nothing. Who knows what he might do to her?”
Rhysand, his voice calm and collected, said, “Az, she doesn’t want to tell us anything about him. We can’t do anything unless she asks for help.”
Azriel, almost yelling, responded, “She’s terrified to say anything!”
The deep voice tried to calm him, “Az-”
“No!” Azriel stopped him. “Rhys, he’s in her head all the time. She screams his name every night. She’s been running from him. Who knows what he’s been doing to her?”
Rhysand replied, “Azriel, we cannot overstep boundaries. I’ve already entered her mind without her consent. If we do anything without her permission, we are causing more harm than good.”
“So we let her go? Let her keep running from him?”
Rhysand paused. “It is her choice what to do with her life.”
“She doesn’t want this!” Azriel yelled again.
“How can you be so sure what she wants?” Rhysand responded.
Your mind raced. Why did it matter who this male in your dream was? Why would they care? Your heart nearly stopped as you considered them knowing your mate existed, suddenly fearing they might call him to come and get you. You started thinking through a story to stop them, but then you heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and footsteps approaching. You stepped back, pressing your rucksack against the wall. The door flew open, and Azriel stood before you, his face hot with anger that faded slightly when he saw you.
“Y/N-” he stammered, “Hi, good morning.”
“Good morning,” you responded, taking a step forward slightly.
Azriel looked over his shoulder back into the room and then turned back to you, shifting slightly as he looked you up and down. “What—where are you going?” he asked, his face turning more concerned.
You looked down at your clothes and then back at his face. “I’m heading out. I was wondering if someone could take me down.”
Azriel’s fingers flexed around the door as he seemed to fidget more. “You’re leaving?” he stammered.
“I think it’s just time for me to move on,” you said, shifting slightly in your boots.
As you finished, Rhysand appeared in the doorway behind Azriel, who took a slight step out of his way. “You don’t have to go,” Rhysand noted. “You can stay as long as you like.”
You looked at Rhysand, smiling politely. “You’ve been so generous, but I’m just feeling an itch to move on.”
Azriel started to speak, but Rhysand cut him off. “Of course,” he said. “It’s been our pleasure to have you.”
You looked to Azriel, whose face hardened at Rhysand’s words, but he didn’t speak. From behind Rhysand, another male with Illyrian wings, a much larger frame, and shoulder-length black hair appeared.
“You’re leaving? But I just got here!” his voice boomed.
“You must be Cassian,” you said, smiling at the bright face with a beaming smile back at you.
“So you’ve heard of me? These guys don’t just spend all their time talking about themselves?” Cassian pushed between the two males, coming to stand in front of you, his hand outstretched.
You reached to him, shaking it lightly, his calloused grip hard. “Well, mostly Nesta.”
Cassian smirked. “So you’ve only heard the bad things.”
You chuckled, readjusting the pack on your back. “Just that she missed you.”
“Not that I’m the biggest pain in her ass and that she wishes I’d fly into the side of a mountain?” Cassian smirked back.
“No, nothing like that,” you replied, “just a little.”
Cassian chuckled slightly. “Well, it brings me too much joy to terrorize her day to stop now.”
Rhysand broke back in, “I can take you down. I have to get back home anyway.”
You nodded slightly, noticing how Azriel’s face tightened to the point where you thought his skin might snap.
Cassian gave you a kind smile. “It’s been nice to meet you, even if you’re so rudely leaving.”
You rolled your eyes. “Not my fault you’ve been avoiding me.”
Cassian turned, walking down the hall towards Nesta’s room. “Someone has to work around here,” he threw his hands up and continued through the doors at the end of the hall, calling over his shoulder, “Good luck out there, kid!”
Azriel’s fingers loosened and gripped the doorframe again. Rhysand reached out his hand to yours. “Shall we?”
You looked between Azriel and Rhys before taking a few steps forward and wrapping your arms around Azriel’s neck. “Thank you,” you whispered to him.
Azriel seemed stunned momentarily before he wrapped his own arms around you, resting his chin on your head, one arm coming around your shoulders, pressing his fingers into your shoulder, the other coming around your waist.
“Of course,” he whispered back.
You took in his scent, mist and cedar, breathing him in deeply as you clenched your eyes shut. You couldn’t figure out why, but you felt a deepening sadness when you pulled away. Azriel seemed reluctant to let go. You pushed onto your tiptoes, pressing a kiss onto Azriel’s cheek. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Take care, Azriel,” you said to him.
“You do the same,” he responded, opening his eyes, and letting one hand take your own. He rubbed his scarred thumb over the back of your hand as you stepped back, taking Rhysand’s hand in yours.
When you let go of Azriel’s grip, the world spun in black and gray, and you felt a single tear slip down your cheek.
When you landed, you found yourself standing in the middle of a busy cobblestone street near the large gates to the entrance of Velaris. Fighting off the nausea, you leaned forward, and Rhysand placed a comforting hand on your back.
“Does that ever get less disorienting?” you panted.
“I’ve been doing it for about 400 years. I don’t think I’m the right person to ask,” he laughed.
You took a few more gasping breaths, trying to steady yourself. As you did, the familiar scents of your childhood city filled your senses—the sweet smell of baking bread and the yeasty delight wafting from the baker's square. You stood upright, peering around at the gray stone buildings with the banners of the Night Court flying high above their spires. Your heart felt suddenly full as you envisioned yourself walking through the streets with your mother, seeing the world from so much closer to the ground. You tried not to let your mouth fall open in awe.
Rhysand gave you a light smile. “You recognize this?”
“I spent a few years here in my early childhood.”
“It’s a pretty magical place to grow up,” Rhysand remarked, looking around.
You nodded slightly.
Rhysand’s gaze landed on you. “You don’t have to leave, you know? You can stay here. We can find you a place to live.”
You shook your head, smiling politely while looking at your feet. “It’s alright. Somewhere else is calling me. I just need to find it.”
Rhysand nodded. “I understand. Sometimes we have to carve our own paths.”
You nodded again.
“If anything happens, or you need anything, you will always have a home here,” Rhysand assured you.
You tried to push down the tears and the lump forming in your throat as you smiled at him. He gestured to the gates. “This is the closest I can get you to the exit without putting you outside.”
“It’s perfect,” you replied.
“You have everything you need?” he asked.
“More than enough,” you responded.
Rhysand nodded lightly, reaching out his hand to shake yours, but instead, you took a step forward and wrapped him in a hug. He hugged you back. “Thank you,” you said.
“Of course,” he responded as you pulled back, turning and walking toward the shining steel gates.
“Be safe,” Rhysand called.
“I will,” you called back, before stepping outside the gates of Velaris and into the wilderness, immediately feeling a hole forming in your stomach as you walked farther and farther from that wondrous, shining place.
To my readers, much love. Be prepared for what's to come, we're getting serious out here. @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra
#azriel x reader fic#azriel x reader#azriel x you#acotar#acotar abuse#acotar fanfic#acotar azriel#azriel#azriel fanfiction#azriel fanfic#azriel imagine#azriel fic#azriel angst#azriel x y/n#acotar fanfiction#acotar reader fic#acotar fandom#Keep Moving Forwards Fic#acotar slow burn#azriel slow burn#acotar fic#azriel x OC#azriel x original character#azriel romance#you and azriel#ACOTAR reader insert#Hurt/Comfort#Fluff#acotar fluff
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hi jen i was wondering if this is a common butch experience? do you ever feel that words such as 'girl' or 'lady' don't apply to you / you are uncomfortable being referred to as such? yet you are still a woman?
When I was younger the answer would have been a resounding "YES". I didn't want to be my mom (lady) or the other girls who seemed boy crazy and seemed happy to dumb themselves down to get the attention of adults and boys.
Mom was always saying "try to act more like a lady when you go to school" or "girls don't do that" or "girls aren't loud". Looking back I know she didn't mind her little Tomboy but was trying to protect my social standing among my peers. She, like a good mom, didn't want me to be outcast or picked on.
I was called "young lady" but my Uncles and Aunt and older neighbors and hearing that made my skin crawl. I didn't think of why, I just felt like it was almost an insult.
In retrospect, now that I am older, I realize that I was letting the stigma I had attached to those words affect my feelings about them. Lady was some frumpy old woman in a house dress with curlers or a nicely dressed woman who had on make up and heels to look good for the gentlemen. Girls were petty and prissy, worried about their clothes and hair and were overtly about what boys or adults thought of their appearance. I was exactly NONE Of these things and had zero desire to attempt them. I didn't have a word for butch so I landed on "I am not like other girls".
Now I think so what if some ladies like to be fancy in nice dresses and perfume and some girls like boys and realize that being pleasant can get them attention that is more positive than if they don't care or are stubborn?
I realize that I can be a woman (or a girl when I was younger) and wear cargo pants and hiking boot with horse shit on them. I know that when some young kid says "hi lady, how are you" they might not have any negative ideas in mind. They simply see an older woman and therefore, a lady. And girl was simply what I was before I was old enough to be a woman.
I was allowing my own understanding of how women (girls and older women) were supposed to act to be controlled by the ways I saw society (mostly men but also women) treated women in my life.
Once I was older I took charge of that and treated other women as humans and started to really respect their (our) unique experiences in this world. I wanted to control the narrative of my own life and to not judge other woman and girls by the the treatment of others but on their own merits.
The truth is I understand the negative reaction to those words and I think your emotions towards them are common and ok to have. The more you become confident and have interactions with women of all varieties you will find that you share more in common than the world wants you to believe.
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Rewatching one of my favorite childhood movies, Tremors, a b horror movie starring Kevin Bacon and Fred Ward about underground monsters that hunt by sound, and I want to talk about a specific character.
Specifically the main female lead and love interest to Kevin Bacon’s Valentine- Rhonda Lebeck. For a movie made in 1990, Rhonda is a surprisingly feminist portrayal of a female lead (like Laura Dern’s Ellie in Jurassic Park).
Rhonda is a student studying seismic activity in the isolated town of Perfection, Nevada and is constantly acknowledged, by every character int he movie including (and especially) the men, as the smartest person in town. They constantly ask her opinion and respect her intelligence and never question the fact that a woman is smarter than they are. Any time she has an idea it is never question because she is a woman and she never has to do that not-really-feminist-a-woman-must-prove-herself thing movies to this day still do.
There is one scene about halfway through the movie where Rhonda gets tangled up in barbed wire and must take off her pants in order to escape the monster dragging her into it’s mouth using said barbed wire. The scene is in no way played as sexual, or a gratification scene for the men watching the movie. any close up of Rhonda is shot from the waist up and we only see her bare legs in wider shots meant to showcase the monster, not her half-nakedness. the only time we see a closeup of her bare legs is when her wounds are being tended to, it only lasts a few moments, and you can see that she has hair on her legs. Which took me a few re-watches to notice but I feel added to the non-sexual take on her bare legs, as even to this day women in movies and tv are always shaved as smooth as dolphins.
She also dresses appropriately for the situation she’s in- hiking boots, cargo pants, long sleeved shirt. Earlier in the movie she wears shorts that aren’t halfway up her ass. She dresses for doing fieldwork in the middle of the desert and the filmmakers didn’t take it as an opportunity to have her parading around in short shorts and a bikini top like some movies have done to female characters in horror movies.
I just like how Rhonda is treated like a character, not just a two dimensional love interest. The relationship between her and Valentine is also really sweet and it’s revealed in later movies, that neither character appear in, that they get married and have a daughter together (although it is implied in later movies the two have gotten divorced).
Just a solid character and one of my favorite female characters in a movie.
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For Ursa's Benefit
Characters: Adam Price x OC Callisto
Lyn's Writing Event 2024 - Day 10 Week 2
May 10th: Week 2: Ursa Major (great bear) “Callisto” constellation
Characters: Adam Price x OC Callisto (Fem werebear)
Fandom: Richard Armitage – Adam Price - The Stranger
The character of Adam Price was created by Harlan Coben, and adapted for television by Danny Brocklehurst
OC Created by Kayla B Crowe – copyright protected
Location: A dense woods in the North of England (Bleaklow – Peak District – West of Sheffield)
Warnings: werebear x known character, grief, romance, potential smut, survival tests, bisexual,
After his wife’s tragic death, Adam Price’s friends and family suggest he go on a personal retreat trip to renew himself. Both the boys were off to college, and he had mourned for 3 years now. It was time to get a life back, one where he could feel joy again. Adam packed up for the 3 days hike that the brochure had suggested. Parked in the designated parking area, and started off on the intended trail, following the geo tags his phone gave him. It felt like checkpoints in a game, and he shuddered to be thinking like his kids, then warmly to be thinking about the men they are becoming. About an hour into the hike; he heard some wood being chopped very aggressively, and smoke rose from a small wood cabin about 50 feet ahead of him on a ridge. He smiled, desperately needing some company, and a break.
As Adam got closer he saw the lone figure chopping some wood. She, which surprised him a bit was burly, tall, maybe 5’11", light brown hair, shorter, cut in a stylized mohawk across her crown, and landing in a braid down her back, that curved across her muscular shoulder. Her skin was a bit dirty, warmed by the sun, but olive and it glowed in the cascading sunlight that broke through the trees. She had some ink on her upper right arm, in scrolling lettering it read, “Stay strong”. Her tank top of grey jersey knit stretched against her pert bosom, and her thick thighs hugged the legs of her navy green cargo pants. The pockets gaping open on the sides, from use. She heaved the axe over her head and swung down again, splitting the large log in three pieces, some shavings skittering as her roar of triumph rung through the forest.
Adam’s mouth gaped a second, then he swallowed and walked a bit closer to her, before he spoke. She saw him right away, and swung the axes down again, after repositioning the larger chunk of the three, “Yeah? What can I do for you?” her voice was feminine but throaty, a mixture of high altitude and wood dust inhalation. As Adam answered, she swung down again grunting.
“Hi, I’m Adam”, paused with a smile, “I am on this hiking expedition, (he moved to show her his phone) and I was wondering if you knew about the summit part of this trail, also do you have a bathroom?”
She stopped and wiped her brow, sort of squinting at his phone, “Yeah sure, come on in, I think I know that trail your talking about”. She started to trudge toward the house and Adam diligently followed, marking his first few steps with a “thank you”.
She shouldered her way into the cabin door, leaving it ajar as Adam entered behind her. He Set his rucksack down on the porch and walked in, feeling grateful to have a moment with the bag off. She washed off her hands, and turned as he stopped just inside the door, having to duck a bit to clear it. “The bathroom is over there” she said pointing towards an inward door. Adam nodded and went straight to it. In the shadowed light of the cabin, he could see her eyes, and smell her scent, a heady mixture of pine, grass and earth. It was in a word, intoxicating.
Adam used the facilities, and washed his hands, drying them on a towel hanging near the toilet. Everything seemed to have a place, and it was “homey” but not, hmm.. Adam thought. There was something, different about this place, he just couldn’t figure it out, yet.
Adam came back out of the bathroom, shutting off the light. She looked up from her glass of ale, and visibly sniffed at him, “So how long is the hike?” She asked.
“oh, sorry, sorry. I meant to ask, what is your name?” Adam put his hand out in introduction again,
She readjusted her position on the bench seat of the kitchen table, and went to shake his hand, “I’m Callisto”, she said, taking a tug on the bottle of ale, she tipped one to him, “You want one?”
Adam shook his head, “No, thanks I’m fine. So, you live up here? Year round?”
Callisto looked at him, amused, “Yeah. I do. What of it?”
Adam was captivated, she was gritty and gorgeous and peculiar, “Oh, no reason, jus curiosity I guess, thanks for the use of your, um, bathroom. So as I was saying there is this trail, (he pulled out his phone again)”.
Callisto looked at the screen and grinned, her bare teeth has an eerie glow of white against her tattooed neck and dark eyes, “Yeah, that’s the Peak trail to Bleaklow, I mean, if your interested I could take you up myself”. Her voice warmed a bit, looking at him now.
Adam, looked at his phone to reset his mind, “Um, sure, if its not too much trouble. A guide would be great. I have to tent up here, (he pointed at a checkpoint on his map) by tonight, so any help would be appreciated”.
Callisto nodded, “Yeah I can get you there before night fall. Its nearing a new moon tonight, so you’ll have a chance to see the stars”. She winked at him, and Adam nearly blushed.
He nervously laughed, “Great. Well, um, I should go check my gear again, when did you want to start out?”
Callisto looked at an army style multi watch on her right wrist, “We should head out in about 20 minutes”. Adam looked at his own watch, “Ok, sure. I’ll have snack then and rehydrate too”. Callisto finished her ale and set it down, “You do that” she chuckled mildly and stood up from the bench, moving her thighs across the bench and sweeping a leg up to cross back to the bins by the stove. A clatter of glass on glass rung through the cabin. Adam stood up and walked out the front door, still agape from their entering.
Callisto wiped her face and back of her neck off with the tap water cold. She ran her fingers through the top of her mohawk and sighed. He was a nice piece, she thought. Tall, and handsome, and, she laughed, fit. He looked like he could take her on, if she let him. A wry smile crossed her lips, “or maybe I’ll take him on”, she mused to herself. Callisto moved to the back room where her bed and wardrobe trunk were and gathered a small rucksack, throwing in some rope, a trail knife, some water bottles, and a first aid kit. She grabbed a hoodie over the footboard of her wood frame bed and shoved it into the rucksack as well.
Callisto returned to the main room of the cabin and grabbed a stick of salmon jerky off the counter, tearing into it with vigor, her large fangs exposed as she masticated the dried meat and scales. Adam was grumbling on the porch, she could hear him. Callisto walked to the entrance and stood in the doorway watching him repack his own rucksack.
“Trouble, dear?” her endearment playful and surreptitious.
Adam looked up, and smiled immediately, seeing her from this angle, at his knees, “No, I just swear I packed this other set of spikes, but I guess I didn’t. I’ll just have to hope the trail doesn’t get too loose footed higher up” he chuckled.
“It won’t. I know these trails pretty well. I’ll take you up to where you need to make camp”.
Adam, “And what about you? You get back to the cabin before dark?” his look of genuine concern was gentlemanly, Callisto noted that.
She scoffed, “I live here, remember, I can get back home by scent alone”, she snorted and tipped her nose up to him, crossing her arms against her chest.
Adam stood then, showing his true height and Callisto actually watched him this time as he rose. Adam turned and put the sack onto his back, “Well we’d best be off then, ya?”
Callisto put her sack on her own back, and shut her door, “yeah let’s get started”.
---
(dear readers I have much more I want to post for these two, but alas I had a double today and could not finish the last act of chapter 1. So more parts to come, hopefully after the weekend).
Lyn's Writing Event 2024
Tag list:
Please PM me if you want to be tagged for the remainder of the challenge this month.
@legolasbadass @scariusaquarius
@middleearthpixie @evenstaredits @sweetestgbye @lathalea
@riepu10
#romance#richard armitage x oc#fanfiction#richard armitage#smut#werebear#bisexual femme#lyns writing event 2024#monster x human#bears#hiking#uk
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11
The morning after she arrived at the castle, Amaya awakened slowly. Her mind was still hazy as to all of what happened in the forest. She was still in the medical ward of the Palace, so the room she was in was nowhere near as elegant as one of the suites where guests and residents alike were housed. It was, however, rather homey and not stark like a hospital on Earth would be. The walls were painted in a deep emerald green, the drapes a golden color that complimented the walls, and her bed was carved wood of some kind that was a few shades darker than the drapes. To Amaya, it reminded her of something from the Victorian or Edwardian period. All of the furnishings and fabrics were soft and warm colors, and appeared very expensive.
Sitting up in the bed, she noticed that at some point, she had been redressed. Gone were her hiking boots, cargo pants, and flannel, and she was now in a soft, pastel gown in fabric she wasn’t sure what it was. She hoped that it had been a female who redressed her and not Dartan. Heaven forbid! As she sat contemplating that, there were two little chirps next to her in the bed. Turning her head, she saw the little chinchilla type creatures from the night before that had been on the strange men’s heads. They were looking up at her with big open eyes and…smiles? Oh…and they had such white…teeth. How nice…
When Amaya didn’t move or respond the little beings jumped up and down and chirped again. Her head tipped, she had no clue what they were wanting. Then one came over and bumped her hand, and she understood - they wanted petted. Seeing the size of their teeth, she was a little cautious, but still reached her hand out and petted the one closest anyway. Something akin to a high pitched trill type of purr came from the small being and the other one bounced in what seemed to be excitement, chirping and looking at her.
“So you two are friendly? I get it.” In a way she figured they were, they had been “riding” on the heads of two of the men last night who had been helping her, but those teeth! Amaya was glad they liked her. She wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of those bites! Guard furry softballs, that was something new.
“I see you have met your guardians,” a deep male voice from across the room had her head jerking up and her yanking the covers up almost to her chin; which hid the two small beings that were now on her lap chirping happily. He held up a hand and gave a soft chuckle. “I’m sorry Amaya, I did not mean to scare you.” He then gave a short bow. “I’m Ollandrius, but most just call me Olly.” He gave her a warm smile, which she thought made him look like some kind fo Disney prince. Were men supposed to be that handsome in real life?
Brief flashes of the night before went through Amaya’s mind, and his face was in them. He was kind, warm, and she had a recollection of protection from him. She relaxed and lowered the covers some, nodding and returning his smile. “Sorry, I guess I’m just a little on edge. The last couple of days have been a little weird and…” she shut her mouth and her brows drew together as she tried to figure out how to even put it into words.
“Eventful?” Olly offered as he stepped into the room, drawing out a light chuckle from her this time and a nod. “We kind of got that idea when Dartan summoned a couple of demons when he lost you in the forest. Although, your little friends there, and their friends, did keep you safe until we found you.” His smile had not faltered, and it made Amaya feel more relaxed. He wasn’t a small man, but she could almost feel goodness radiating off of him, safety. For Olly’s part, he was studying her, trying to see if there were any lingering effects of the mushrooms or being out in the forest exposed to the elements.
“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry that I caused you or your friends any trouble. I goofed up a spell.” Her face fell and she looked at her lap where the little beings were snuggling against her and ran her hand through their fur. They even felt as soft as chinchillas. “This is all my fault, everything is is my fault.”
“Or, you were given a bad one by someone that should not have been trusted. We’re looking into all the possibilities now. No more apologies, and no more sadness. You are a guest of the King and Queen, and there is no reason for it. When you are doing better a whole suite is being prepared for you. You’ll be taken care of here.” The poor human. She probably wouldn’t get to stay one. Like Delilah, existing in a world that she knew was full of monsters and demons would be too dangerous if she stayed one. If they couldn’t teleport her, staying in Imperium would most definitely be too dangerous, and it had nothing to do with the inhabitants. The mushrooms had proved that. Olly was worried about her.
“Uh…what about Dartan?” Were they going to make her live with him? He hated her. He blamed her for everything, and after she got lost out in the forest, he probably hated her more. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck living with him. Maybe they could just kill her and let her go wherever it was that her soul was supposed to go? Or because she was bound to Dartan, would she just end up back here?
Olly took a deep breath, this was going to be slightly awkward. “You won’t have to see him anymore.” He saw the confusion on her face, so he continued. “You’re bound, so it’s not like he can go far, but it was the belief of the Queen that you would be happier if he were not in your immediate vicinity, and that there were others here in the Palace who could help you get acclimated to everything much easier. She was quite insistent.” He had to chuckle, he was putting it mildly. He was pretty sure if she’d been confident his head would not have regrown she would have removed it from his shoulders the previous night.
“Oh.” Amaya said simply. She didn’t know how to feel about that. Truthfully she wasn’t sure that she knew how to feel about any of it. How was one supposed to feel in a situation like she was in? Had anyone ever been in her situation? She doubted it.
“Are you ok?” Olly was worried about her. “I know it will take some getting used to here, but you won’t be alone. Arch, he’s a mage that helped heal you last night, and I are going to help you. Arch can help you with your magic. He’s kinda good at it.” He gave her a teasing wink that made her smile.
“I just feel kind of lost. The whole bonded or married or whatever…” she kind of waved her hands around a bit as her lips pursed, “was a huge shock, and I know he hates me for it. I can’t blame him. I brought him here and now he’s stuck with me. I’m sure he’s glad that he’s free of me, at least we get to live in a castle.” She smiled a little again and shrugged. She really did feel so very lost.
“He was worried about you. Dartan’s always been an asshole from what I can gather, but he was worried. So, he doesn’t hate you. Hate the situation, that is a possibility, but that’s not the same as hating you.” He tried to reassure her, but he could tell she was still upset. Lost might be the best description for it. She really didn’t know where she was, that was going to come as an even bigger shock to her, and wait till she met some of the residents. Maybe they’d take things VERY slowly.
Deciding that making her feel somewhat at home might be a good start, Olly decided to start with breakfast. Since the kitchens could prepare anything that was made on Earth, the sky was the limit for whatever she wanted. Once he had her order, he promised to be back shortly with food and the all-important coffee. He also let her know that some fae that were the size of six year olds would be in shortly to take her measurements and talk to her about clothing. What she had on was a gift from the Queen, but she would need more than one nightgown for her stay there.
With that, he ducked out, and Amaya was alone in the room with the two little fur balls again. Laying back, she let them cuddle up next to her and stroked their little bodies, and she thought about everything Olly had said and tried to pull details from her memories of the previous night. They came in bits and pieces, just fragments, but she at least knew she felt safe with Olly, and since she was apparently now living in Hell, that was a start.
#the imperium chronicles#writeblr#my writing#my ocs#dark fantasy#fantasy#fiction#new chapter#original story#witchcraft#magic#spell goes wrong#spell gone wrong#spellcasting#mage#Horseman of Conquest#Olly#Amaya#Dartan#Arch#Olly x Amaya#Amaya x Dartan#witch#spectre#original characters#original character#original fiction#original writing#original fantasy#original content
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My Interesting Gender Situation
Hi, I'm an AFAB nonbinary person who's questioning if they're maybe trans or want to physically/aesthetically transition within being nonbinary. I'm only very recently out to myself and partner about that. Even now, I have doubts. See here's the thing.
I feel I truly enjoy being a women in certain regards. I am proud and feel euphoric to call myself a feminist, a girls' girl, to speak against the patriarchy, etc. It's actually a core part of who I am. Some of you trans men may be triggered by this (sorry in advance, it's not you as much) but I do hate and mistrust men. In my book, I find most men repulsive both aesthetically and sexually. And socially? NAH. Most of the time I can only befriend twinky guys, gay guys, trans men, etc. Men who are either in touch their femininity or used to be women so they understand. I'm not so close minded that I will directly bully a guy and refuse to get to know any of them- it's just that they are guilty until proven innocent and I'm very gaurded. And to any of you feminists of any gender, you understand why. I won't debate or explain.
More superficially, I enjoy elaborate makeup looks a few times a month, doing nails/nailcare, skincare, dresses, skirts (though I'm picky about practicality), having feminine curves, etc. I like to look cute/sexy/hot. I wear sparkles, jewelry, and like to explore with my expression in a very nonbinary and gay way- not dressing for the male gaze.
However- and this is a good part of why I identify as nonbinary currently- there are some things that I feel or think that don't align with cis womenhood, both psychologically and physiologically.
Physically, I have many traits that I think some trans men may be envious of. I am naturally hairy and even grow dark hair in places that are usually light on women- hairy pits, hairy arms, hairy legs, the whole private sector, nipples, happy trail, generally my belly, lower back, a sprinkle on my chest, upperlip, sparse but long and strong growth on my chin and sideburns, thicker inner thigh hair, knuckle hair, and toes hair. Despite being basically inactive and also overweight, I build and keep a lot of muscle and strength really well. I have beaten probably 8/10 arm wrestling matches I've been in, and I've been in many. I have a sturdy (but curvy) build with a large ribcage, chest, and fairly wide shoulders. My calves aren't sculpted, but they are SOLID and big and don't jiggle. I have some kind of hormone issue that is still a mystery, but it's caused my breasts to grow different sizes (one is an A, the other a C) and I go years without having a period. I don't know if it works this way, but I feel like my body itself is telling me something's off, I'm not meant to be a women, or that I'm somewhere in between.
And look, this is isn't just insecurity/body hate, though I'm concerned that's part of it because I'm from a conservative southern area and grew up in a patriarchy. I feel that proud euphoric feeling about some of my masculine things as well. I love hiking, and bodybuilding (when I used to do it) and feeling my strength. I take probably too much pride in helping people move or volunteering when someone says they need a big strong boy to carry/hold/pickup/move something. I feel competitive and want to show off a tad. I enjoy showing up other men. Growing up, I hung out with my brother instead of 3 sisters, played football with him and his friends, smoked pot with them, played Pokémon with him, and stole his clothes constantly. I felt something when I wore his pothead hoodie, or his big boots, or baggy shirt. The same thing I feel now when I wear those stupid cargo pant short things, baggy tees, flannel, hiking boots, etc. I think it's ugly on a lot of guys. But it feels different on me. I love surprising my girlfriend and showing off by picking her up, moving her, pinning her, etc. I used to think I was a bottom or switch but I've been exploring and am finding I really like being dominant in the bedroom- and I'm good at it too.
There's a lot of things I don't like about my body, that trigger me, that make me feel ugly. But I'm realizing… I think those things don't really make me feel ugly- they make me feel wrong and unhappy as a girl/women. My breasts are very different, and I hate that, but I think either getting one filled to match, binding, or removal would make me happy. I'm hairy- when I'm presenting femininely I hate it- but love it when masculine. I wouldn't mind my facial hair if it grew less patchy, or if it was gone entirely.
Recently, mortality and the passage of time was on my mind. I was talking to my partner and mentioned in passing that almost none of my clothes are mine- as in, I didn't choose them. I started tearing up and realized just how much that bothered me- how suppressed I felt. Especially because most came from when I lived in the conservative south. Gifts, donations when I was in salvation army, pass me downs… not my choice/style. I just did my best to express myself within the confines of these clothes. I couldn't afford anything else. She insisted we go thrifting, and I felt drawn yet again to male section. The section I tried to shop in as a young tomboy and was shamed for and not allowed to. I got some cool outift pieces, and now I feel different. A kind of healing calm feeling, part peace, part comfort, part excitement, part anxiety. And I have to wonder:
Am I maybe a trans guy? Or still nonbinary, just opening up more to masculinity?
Do not worry about triggering me or sounding transphobic. Short of just denying trans and nonbinary people exist I really want to know what y'all think. I'm so conflicted.
#afab problems#afab nonbinary#transgender#lgbtq#nonbinary#gender stuff#gender discussion#opinions welcome
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LAST LINE TAG/HEADS UP-7 UP
I am behind on my tag games, so I am combining two tags. Life has been...it's been..but it's easing up so I'm getting back to normal :)
I was tagged for last line by: @toribookworm22
I was tagged for Heads Up-7 Up by: @late-to-the-fandom
I'm going to leave it OPEN TAG for anyone who wants to do either one since I'm still working through my tags. ;)
Sitting up in the bed, she noticed that at some point she had been redressed. Gone were her hiking boots, cargo pants, and flannel, and she was now in a soft, pastel gown in fabric she wasn’t sure what it was. She hoped that it had been a female who redressed her and not Dartan. Heaven forbid! As she sat contemplating that, there were two little chirps next to her in the bed. Turning her head, she saw the little chinchilla type creatures from the night before that had been on the strange men’s heads. They were looking up at her with big open eyes and…smiles? Oh…and they had such white…teeth. How nice…
When Amaya didn’t move or respond the little beings jumped up and down and chirped again.
IMPERIUM CHRONICLES TAG (so you can get the sneak peak) - @writingpotato07, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @kjscottwrites, @careful-pyromancer, @saltysupercomputer, @autumnalwalker, @perasperaadastrawriting, @fearofahumanplanet, @jessica-writes22
~author note~ Dartan and Amaya have reached the point in posted stories where they join the main story, so I need to get that caught up to where they join. So...that is why they haven't been posted again
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Me, a cis-woman when I want something with pockets or thermal winter underwear for working outdoors that is thick and effective. Let me tell you, Women's Long Johns, sold in Women's sections of stores are bullshit. They barely do the job they are supposed to do: Keeping you warm under your clothes, so shoveling snow in them... eh... You are much better off going to the Men's section and getting a nice, thick-woven set and just ignoring that little pouch/hole in the front. If you can't find the things there, go to the Sporting section because they are a staple of hunters. If you want cargo pants or cargo shorts to carry little treats in, or to carry your mini-tackle box in while fishing or to have pockets for cool rocks when you're out hiking and suchlike? Or you even want something in Khaki or camoflage? You pretty much go to the Men's section. I am neither trans or nonbinary, I'm just sick of men getting all the good clothes. I am not fond of dresses and things without pockets.
literally everything is unisex if u stop giving a fuck
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