#now that i can quote unquote pass if i want to

[chimcharstar]

.

[featherandferns]

daylight - five

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 5 of the daylight series | read part 4 here

content warnings: sexual content (f receiving); alcohol

word count: 3k.

blurb: after avoiding JJ for a week, the two of you end up trapped together in the Chateau during a storm.

Whilst Mimsy’s advice was golden, you promptly ignored it. Avoided JJ like the plague. Bailed on nearly every Pogue meeting: met with the group one-on-one instead. He’d texted you a few times, checking if you were okay, asking if you were sick, offering to come around, apologising for the other night. You rarely replied, and if you did they were simple answers that left no room for further questions. I’m fine. Not sick, don’t worry. Just been busy. It's all good, I forgot all about it! 

But you hadn’t. 

That one fleeting touch of JJ’s hand on your chest had replayed in your mind like you were some budding virgin who had never been touched by another human before in your life. It was truly pathetic. The porn that got your body burning was the thing that a nun would gloss over without pause. You loathe yourself. 

It’s stupid, really. You’d decided that maybe Mimsy was right. Maybe it was time to stop punishing yourself for Tyler, for the damage he inflicted. Maybe it was time to remember that all people are different people, and the acts of one careless man doesn’t equal the acts of another. But then you thought about it, really thought about it, and the thought of being so open like that with another person terrified you. Made you sick. Love was bad but heartbreak was worse, and you had a habit of falling hard and fast. If JJ wanted casual, you couldn’t do that. You felt too much for him already. Sleeping with him would only make it worse. But if JJ wanted serious, you couldn’t do that either. And so, you were at a stalemate. 

“Can’t I just give you it tomorrow?” you ask Kiara over the phone. 

“No! Cause you’ll quote-unquote ‘forget’ and go another week with it!” 

“It’s a good camera!”

“Yes, that’s why I want it back,” Kiara laughs. 

Sighing, you smile. “Fine. I’ll drop it at the Chateau, though. That hurricane’s getting close and I don’t wanna get caught out near Figure Eight.”

“Alright, that works for me,” Kie agrees. “You talk to JJ yet?”

“Sure,” you lie. 

She sighs. “What is going on with you two? I know he can be a dumbass; did he yell at you or something?”

After knowing JJ for close to two months, you had seen his temper. It was short and explosive, and at times, scary. But he came down regretful for the things he did and said, and you’d learnt just like the others to understand it. 

“No, he didn’t yell. It’s nothing. We’re fine, really,” you tell her. 

Kie hums and you know she isn’t convinced. Grabbing your shoes, you say, “look, I’ll head to the Chateau now before the storm hits and leave your camera for you.”

“Icon. Thank you!”

“Talk soon,” you say before hanging up.

With Kie’s camera in your trademark backpack, you head downstairs. Leaving a note on the kitchen for your parents and pulling a thin raincoat over your sweats and crop-tee, you penny board to the Chateau. The journey is familiar now, the same way heading to and from the local store in Vancouver was less than a year ago. As you walk up, you find the Twinkie missing. 

“John B? You home?” you call as you pass through the door. Nobody answers.

You head to the table and place Kiara’s camera down, then send a photo to her as proof. Before you make the journey back home, errand now complete, you use the bathroom and raid the cupboard for a snack. As you pull back the wrapper on a month-out-of-date clif bar, the sky grumbles menacingly. You stare up at the ceiling when it does as if it might be to blame. Suddenly, everything is dark. Grey clouds loom overhead and cast the world in gloom. More thunder follows, and the distant flash that you catch through the window hints of lightning. You hadn’t managed to skip the storm.

“Shit.”

Through the tantrum of nature, the high-pitched humming of a motor passes through. You venture to the front door of the Chateau, wondering whether John B has come back. When JJ rounds the corner, your stomach drops like a black bear has wandered into sight. The rain has started now, pelting hard and heavy pellets, and JJ cusses as he rushes up the steps. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he finally looks up, now in the Chateau.  

“Jesus Christ!”

“Sorry.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he repeats, perhaps a little dramatic. 

You roll your eyes and tug your raincoat off over your head. It’s not like you’re going anywhere anytime soon: mother nature had decided so. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Where the fuck have you been?” JJ asks, frowning at you. 

You shrug. “At home.”

“Oh. Yeah, duh, how dumb of me,” JJ sarcastically mumbles. You head into the kitchen for a soda and JJ is hot on your trail. “I’ve been hitting you up for like a week and you’ve been ignoring me.”

“I replied to you.”

“Yeah with like two word responses. I’ve heard dogs talk more,” JJ fires back.

Once your hand is safely removed from the fridge, JJ slams it shut. It catches your attention; forces you to look up at his face. “It’s about what happened in the van, isn’t it?”

“JJ, grow up,” you say. 

“That’s not a no.”

“Because it’s a stupid question,” you reply. “I’m not twelve years old, JJ.”

“Don’t need to tell me that,” he mumbles. You pass him by, heading for the sofa whilst JJ stands in the kitchen and stares at you. “So that’s that?”

“I guess,” you say with a shrug, sipping your soda. 

He stares some more and then scoffs. You know he’s annoyed. His jaw clenches and he glances off to the hallway of the cabin. You take his distraction to remind yourself of his body. Of how fucking gorgeous he is. 

“What? What’s wrong?” you can’t help but ask. 

JJ shakes his head. He purses his lips, calms himself, and looks to you. “You hurt my feelings.”

On the surface, it sounds like an immature statement. The sort of thing a child would say to another on the playing field, after shunning them out of an imaginary game. But not now, not here. You knew more than most how much hurt feelings can wound. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologise, and you hope it sounds as genuine as it is. 

JJ contemplates before nodding. He heads over to you and sits beside you on the sofa. Kicks his feet up on a dining chair as he reclines into the sofa. 

“Do you forgive me?”

“I will if you give me a sip of your drink,” he mumbles. You hand him the can and watch him begin to drink. Your face contorts with horror as JJ backwashes into the can, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“JJ! Ew!” 

He splutters a laugh as you snatch your drink back. It’s spoiled now. You glare at him and ditch it on the floor. Smack his shoulder jovially.

“Dumbass.”

The storm reigns on and for a while the two of you sit side by side listening to its petrifying symphony. Lightning flashes through the windows and illuminates the cabin for a fraction of a second, time and time again. It feels nice being in JJ’s company again. He calms you somehow, even in silence. Maybe it’s his smell, but if you admit that, you may sound a little insane or creepy. But the calm is only momentary. Soon you’re losing yourself to your thoughts, given too much freedom with the quiet. Thoughts of him. Thoughts which turn to glances, which turn to longing and yearning and…

“Wanna play a board game?” you blurt out. 

JJ quirks a brow at you, hitting his vape. “Sure. What game?”

You get up and head to the rickety wooden shelves, inspecting the games John B has. Most look thrifted. Jenga, Twister, Monopoly…

“Trivial Pursuit?”

JJ sniggers. “I don’t think either of us are smart enough for Trivial Pursuit.”

A hand slowly rises to your chest in mock offence. “Ouch.”

You slide the game out as JJ gets up and transforms the sofa into a pullout. The power is holding up good enough so far, in the summer storm turned hurricane. Taking a blanket, you cosy up on the couch and set up the game. JJ takes the time to retrieve a beer. You each take a game piece and fall into the game. It only takes about five rounds for JJ to be proven right: trivia was neither of your strong suits. 

You grab a card from the pile, reading out the trivia question. “What distance is the earth to the sun?”

JJ’s face contorts in bewilderment. “What kind of dumbass question is that?”

“A trivia one,” you say, watching him with a smile.

“I don’t fucking know. A hundred?”

“A hundred what?”

“Miles?”

You blink at him. “A hundred miles? From our planet to a huge ball of gas?”

“Who’s actually measured it, that’s what I want to know,” JJ says.

“Scientists.”

“But like how?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh, leaning back on the sofa. “With science, I guess. Answer the question.”

“‘With science’. ‘With science’?”

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t know I was in the presence of a genius,” JJ announces.

You roll your eyes and prod him with your toe through your blanket, careful not to knock over the pile of trivia cards. “Answer!”

“This game is dumb. Why couldn’t we just play strip poker?”

“Jesus Christ – answer the question!”

“I did! One-hundred miles!”

“That’s such a dumb guess!” you laugh, placing the card at the bottom of the pile.

“Was it right?”

“No!”

By now you’re in hysterics, shaking your head. JJ’s watching you, sniggering away. He takes another swig of his beer and offers the bottle to you. You have a sip. JJ’s still watching you. Swallowing, you quirk a brow. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what is it? Is there something on my face?”

“No, no,” JJ says, stopping your wiping of your cheeks. “You’re just really fucking pretty.”

Your body chills like a winter breeze hit. Smiling bashfully, you glance down. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Course,” JJ replies. He takes the bottle back gently and has another sip. Clearing his throat, he grabs another trivia card. “Alright, uh, what we got here? Who wrote the novel ‘Pride and Prejudice’?”

“Jane Austen,” you reply. 

“Yep,” he says, returning the card to the pile.

And just like that, the moment has passed, and you’re only slightly surprised to realise how much you wished it hadn’t. 

You wordlessly take another ‘cheese piece’ for your counter. JJ takes the dice and rolls and as you wait for them to land, everything suddenly goes pitch black. You let out a screech as it does. 

“Oh shit,” you hear JJ say. 

“What happened?” you ask, though the answer is obvious. 

“Power went out,” JJ says. “Shit.”

You feel the pull out move and you flail a hand out, grabbing his t-shirt with your fist. “Don’t go.”

“I’m just gonna try and find some candles or a flashlight or something.”

“Wait, can you just…Can you stay until my eyes adjust, at least?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, course.”

JJ settles back into his spot. There’s the clink of his beer bottle carefully finding place on the floor. His hand gently pats around before landing on your leg. 

“You’re shaking.”

“I don’t like the dark,” you tell him. You’re waiting for him to laugh but he doesn’t. Instead, he coaxes you closer to him. 

“Come here.”

You comply. Shuffle until you can feel JJ’s body pressed against yours. You slowly, nervously lower your head onto his upper chest. The sensation of his chest rising and falling evenly calms your panic. You’d never grown out of your fear of the dark. It was stupid, something Tyler used to tease you for, but you couldn’t help it. Even still, you slept with some form of nightlight. JJ’s fingers begin to stroke the back of your hand. And just as his accidentally grope of your tit had, his barely-there touch turns you on. 

But this time you don’t flinch away. Don’t panic and startle and spiral. 

Maybe it’s the black out serving as some sort of safety net, or the storm making you feel disconnected from the world, or maybe just the effect of JJ in general, but you find yourself moving to face him. At least, what you assume is him. Eyes slowly adjusting, you can make out the vague silhouette of his face. Lord knows you’ve stared at him enough times to make good guess work of where his lips are. You lean forward so slow, you can convince yourself you’re not at all.

Your lips press against his lower lip tentatively. Testing the waters.

This close, you can hear when JJ’s breath catches in his throat.

You wait for JJ's next move.

JJ’s hand lands on the back of your head, returning your lips to his frantically. It’s messy and sloppy as the two of you kiss. Teeth and lips and hands, which caress down your body, grabbing greedily at your skin, landing on your ass to lift you into his lap. He’s getting harder and harder with each kiss, each brush of your tongues. You gasp a moan against his lips. Leaning back for air, swishing your hair from off your face and shoulders, you finally get to see how it feels to have your hands around his neck. Plant your fingers there, one by one,. JJ’s panting, his hands restlessly tracing your body. Reconnecting your lips with his, he mumbles against them. One word.

“Yes.”

His grip is tenderly mean in your hair as he pries you away to only plant kisses down your neck. Maybe he has a fascination with yours just as you do with his…JJ’s cold hands thrill your body as they slip under your shirt. Blunt finger nails rake soothingly against your back, juxtaposing the assault on your throat that has you whining and gasping. Fuck, you forgot how good this is. How good it feels to have another person pressed up against you. Touching you. You instinctively rock against his crotch. JJ groans, head dropping onto your shoulder. His fingernails press harder and it makes you grin. Leaning down to his earlobe, you kitten lick the skin just below. You feel him shudder under you. You tease your teeth against the lobe before gently catching it between your teeth. JJ lets out a moan. 

“You like that?” you whisper into his ear. 

“Yes,” he mumbles. You let out a gasp when he tugs at your hair once more, pulling you to face him. Now you can make out his eyes. They’re hooded. Crinkled like they do when he smiles. “You like being in control or something?”

“Or something…” you reply, finding your own smile. 

“Just like I said,” JJ says, eyes flitting down to your lips. “Exactly my type.”

His hands slide down from your ass to the back of your quads, and he practically tosses you onto your back. You land just shy of the game board. Can hear the cards and game pieces scatter. JJ unconcernedly brushes it away, making the two of you laugh, breathless. Then his lips are back on yours, figure looming over you, and you let your hands venture up along his body. His gaping t-shirt grants you expanse of his skin. It’s soft under your touch, ripples from it, rises and falls with his breathes. JJ pushes your shirt up and kisses down your sternum, down your chest, towards your crotch. And now, without him desperately close, despite his attention to your body, you feel lost. In the pitch black, you can confuse JJ with someone else. 

Tyler. 

No, no, it’s not. It’s JJ. You can smell his cologne. Feel the cool metal of his rings against your burning skin. Yes, JJ. 

“JayJ?” you mumble, fingers tethering into his hair. 

“Mmm,” he hums against your skin. Yes, it’s JJ. His fingers hook into the band of your sweats and he lowers them down your legs. Presses wet, open mouthed kisses to the newly revealed skin that you’d caught him staring at too many times to count. 

And you should be enjoying it. Should be turned on beyond belief, desperate for his touch or his mouth or something on your aching cunt. But instead you’re just trying to stay present. Drilling it into your head that it is him, that it is JJ, that this is different. It makes no sense. Tyler never abused you. Never too advantage of you. Or did he? Did he–

No, not Tyler. JJ. The same JJ who’s mumbling things against your thigh, dragging your panties down your legs. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy…”

But when he teases a finger to your folds, you’re dry. JJ pauses. 

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum. Now your brain is busy with panic. He’s been turning you on like crazy so why the fuck is your body not doing what it’s supposed to do? Embarrassment stings your eyes. This has never happened before. Never. JJ continues to ease his finger up and down but to no avail. He shifts up your body, kissing delicately at your neck.  

“Are you…not into this or?” JJ tentatively asks. 

“No, I am, I just–” You cut yourself off with an exasperated sigh. Gently pushing JJ off you, you shift to sit up, hiding your burning face in your hands despite the black out. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why.”

“It’s alright. Hey, no, it’s alright, don’t worry,” JJ reassures.

As you tug your shirt down, JJ climbs off the pull-out. You hear his footsteps depart. You busy yourself with pulling your sweatpants back up. A flashlight guides JJ’s return. You squint when he shines it directly in your face. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, flicking it back down to the floor. He steps over the mess of the board game and joins you on the sofa. Passes you his half drunk bottle of beer and the alcohol helps wash away the initial sting of embarrassment. In the shadow of his flashlight, you still see his boner through his sweatpants and you instantly feel guilty for accidentally blue-balling him. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. 

“Don’t apologise,” JJ chuckles. He takes the beer back when you offer it to him. Has a swig. 

“S’just embarrassing,” you mumble. 

“Nah. Guess it’s just like ED for a guy,” JJ thinks aloud. 

“Oh, and ED isn’t embarrassing?” you half-heartedly joke. 

JJ chuckles. “Alright, fair point. But you don’t gotta be embarrassed with me. It’s cool.”

You nod. The two of you sit there in the pitch-black as the storm billows on outside. You look out the window. The wind throws twigs and sticks and leaves around; you can see it through the porch netting. 

“Did I ever tell you about when I lost my virginity?” JJ asks. 

You snort and look to him. “Yeah, funny enough, that never came up in any of our conversations.”

JJ smiles, amused. “Fair point.”

He relaxes against the back of the sofa and you decide to join him, settling your head against his chest. One of his hands loops around your body, fingers stroking your thigh over your sweatpants soothingly. 

“I was fourteen.”

“Fourteen?”

“I was an early bloomer, I guess,” JJ replies, making you chuckle quietly. “There was this smokin’ Toron visiting the island. I mean, not as hot as you, but a close second - I’m not gonna lie. Way better than what my thirteen-year-old wet dreams cooked up.”

“Gross,” you cringe, scrunching up your nose. 

“So, I started talking to her and she asked if I had...and I hadn’t, and neither had she and…Yeah. And then, when it came down to it, and we were macking and stuff, I couldn’t get it up.”

You shift to look up to him, lips apart. “Wait, really?”

“I’m dead serious,” JJ chuckles. “I was flippin’ out cause I’d never had a problem with it before.”

“What happened? Did you guys end up calling it off or…”

“Well,” JJ says, scratching the back of his neck, “the problem seemed to go away after she showed me her tits but–”

“Ah. That makes sense,” you snigger. 

“But the point is, it happens to all of us,” JJ tells you. “So, you don’t gotta be embarrassed.”

“Well, thanks,” you hum. Snuggling your head against his shirt, your eyes slip shut. The madness of the storm was strangely soothing. “I’m sorry for disappearing, JayJ.”

“It’s alright,” JJ says quietly. “I do it too, sometimes. When I need to think or it gets too much.”

The two of you understand one another. Guarded behind self-built walls of which only the other seemed to have the sledgehammer for. It's something you want to talk about more but with your eyes closed, in the comfort of JJ’s hold, you find yourself drifting away into sleep.  

read part six here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200

[ririsasy]

Sit on my lap [part 2]🔞✋

Part 1

Varadha wasn't really actually in a gang, it was just his group of friends. They ditched Varadha with Deva the other night because they're too scared of Deva to even ask for their friend back from the clutch of a wolf like him. They have heard about Deva's reputation and know that Deva is a gang leader and he's ruthless! He breaks people's bones left and right if they dared to cross him.

They thought that was the end of Varadha after he throw up on Deva! What was he thinking doing something so unthinkable like that.

Varadha quickly left Deva's house in a taxi after he get dressed in hurry with his own washed clothes. He went straight to Rinda's house to curse at him for being such an unreliable friend leaving him with a stranger like that. Rinda explained to him that Deva wasn't an ordinary stranger and from now on they should be avoiding that club with all costs if they wanted to stay alive.

But then a week after the event Deva and Varadha met again accidentally, this time Varadha's group yet again got into a fight but with other people and Deva happened to pass by. Deva didn't even think about getting involved in the first place but the attackers suddenly pulling out knives, so Deva had to step up before anyone got badly injure. It was just like another monday for Deva, he easily can avoid the attack going his way and broke the attacker' arms to make them drop the knives, true to his reputation as bone snappers, they scattered away after that holding their broken hands.

Varadha's friends look at Deva in fear but also thankful of his intervention, but they didn't dare to say anything to Deva, so they push Varadha as their humble sacrifice to go talk to the wolf.

"...Thank you for helping us." Varadha said reluctantly.

"..why you guys always got into a fight you can not win?" Deva asked while fixing his leather jacket that got ruined from the fight.

"We didn't search for trouble but when it came to us we didn't back down!" Varadha quickly shout back trying to defend his group.

"Whatever, next time pick someone your size or you will be bleeding on the street." Deva said while looking at Varadha from head to toe, appreciating the see through white shirt that leave little to imagination.

"Yeah yeah we will make sure we never have to bother you or show our faces in front of you to cause you an inconvenience. What should I do to repay for the trouble?" Varadha asked while rolling his eyes because this man is so high on himself.

"Still the same thing I told you when you were in my place, get on my lap and give me a kiss." Deva teased him again patting his own inner thigh, delighted at the fast spreading blush on Varadha's cheeks.

"You pervert old man!!" Varadha shouted at his face and then run toward his friends and pulled them away from Deva who couldn't stop laughing at Varadha's adorable reaction.

Varadha's friends only nod at Deva's direction and making a thankful gesture with their hands as Varadha keep dragging them far away from Deva.

.

.

"So, you and Deva huh?" Rinda, one of Varadha's friends started teasing him as they order their drink at a nearby cafe after they run away from Deva.

"No such thing!" Varadha dismissed the accusation quickly, he shivered just by the thought alone that there was something between him and the insufferable man.

"But he said there was something happening at his place? "Same thing I told you when you were in my place" quote unquote that was what he said. Wasn't it?" Rinda still didn't want to let it go.

"As you heard! It was just his wish, nothing happening, no way I will like such an arrogant bastard so full of himself like that. But aren't we all trying to stay away from him for the past few days now? Why are you showing interest at him now?" Varadha squinted his eyes at Rinda's direction in suspicion.

"Nothing like that. It's just he helped us just a moment ago! So he wasn't actually that bad? Imagine if we are on his good side we don't need to be worried anymore about people pushing us around. " Rinda trying to give reason to Varadha.

"So what now? You want to join his gang or something? Go a head! I don't want to do anything with him. Enough talking about him, my headache can't handle it anymore. Tonight we still go to that new place that you found right? I really need to unwind. Especially after what happened today." Varadha said with a sour mood.

"Yeah yeah, same time as plan, you, Bilal will join us or not?"

"Hard pass. I rather sleep after I got the most of the beating before your knight in shining armor came to our rescue. Good rest will do wonderful thing to my bones." Bilal said waving his hand in front of his friends, he sometimes feel like he is too old for all of this escapades.

"Your lost! We're going disco tonight, gonna wear all the obnoxious outfits we have right varadha? Bring out that slutty red jeans with red flower shirts you have to seduce some prey."

"Totally, gonna make sure I got laid tonight no matter what." Varadha said with conviction, Bilal could only shake his head at his friends' terrible, somehow he feels like something unexpected is bound to happen.

.

.

Bilal is perhaps a psychic because here comes the trouble.

Varadha was asking for his third drink to the bartender after he was exhausted from dancing on the dance floor not caring about anything in the world, his chest peaking from his barely buttoned silky red shirst glints with sweats from his previous activity, his hair sticky just the same, but he didn't care he at least could free himself from Deva's images that's been occupying his mind.

He was looking at Rinda who still dance on the floor with girls glued to him from all side, Varadha chuckled at his carefree dance that didn't even match with the rhythm of the music. He looked back again at the bartender thinking he had served him his drink only for the bartender to gesture him at the faraway table at the corner of the room, it's luminous with yellow light, even half drunk Varadha could easily spot the tall figure sitting there.

Shit, it's Deva.

"That's the owner of this club, he said, your drink is free, he would appreciate if you can thank him in person." The bartender pushed the drink toward Varadha with the tip of his fingers.

Varadha is not flattered, he's indeed furious, why is this man couldn't leave him alone at all, why he is everywhere, and why the hell this club belong to him? Varadha was just enjoying his time and actually like the atmosphere of this club and the drink actually taste good here and not like piss, he was just about to put this on the list of the club he would like to revisit and now he didn't know anymore.

He gulped down the drink in one shot, wiped his mouth haphazardly with the back his hand and stomped his feet toward Deva's place.

Looking at Varadha's arrival, Deva dismissed his companions, most of them just sexy girls who pour drink for him and light his cigarette, Varadha step aside as the last girl who sit on Deva's lap stand up and make her exit as well brushing the side of his shoulder. Varadha tried to ignore the increasing hot feeling in the pit of his stomach, he didn't know where it came from, he refused to admit that he was jealous from what he just saw, there's nothing going on between him and Deva at all, why did he need to be angry?

"What do you want now? I didn't know this is your club, I will leave." Varadha finally said, after it's just the two of them left. Deva only look at him curiously, like he is inspecting a product, puffing his cigarette and then holding it between his two long fingers. He rest his clasped hands under his chin.

"It was you who decided to not meet me again but fate said otherwise, you came to my den perfectly on you own accord, here you are standing in front of me, looking like that, like an offering, can you just quench my curiosity and be done with it." Deva asked like he was bargaining something he could pay, Varadha is so frustrated by a man with no manner like this and yet he feel intrigued and saw it like a challenge.

"What's your curiosity? What can I do so fate would tear us a part so we don't have to meet again?" Varadha asked with fire in his eyes.

"Same thing, come here, sit on my lap and give me a kiss." Deva took another drag from his cigarette, adjusting his sitting position, spreading his legs wider and pat his lap, looking at Varadha with blatant want.

Varadha wanted to jump at him, not because he like this man not at all but because he just want to slap that confidence off of his handsome face.

"What with you and your childish game?" Varadha asked Deva from between his gritted teeth, he was so furious that he couldn't control himself and grabbed Deva's collar ready to throw a punch.

Deva didn't even flinch, he just looked at Varadha with his piercing eyes up close, inspecting him some more, puffing the smoke on his face, Varadha close his eyes immediately, trying not to cough at the smoke onslaught to his sense.

"It's not a game to me, just sit here, after all, you already scared my companions for the night because of the fury in your eyes, but up close, I can see how long those eyelashes are, it would be even prettier if there's something else in your eyes rather than anger when you look at me."

"You are drunk and you don't even know what you're saying" Varadha whispered the words now they're too close to each other. He didn't let go of Deva's collar, still pulling it tight in his grip.

Deva slowly put his hand on Varadha's waist, soothing it with his thumb when he felt Varadha jump from the touch and hold him steadily as he slowly guide Varadha to really sit on his lap. Varadha was too stunned to react.

How did he really end up on this man's lap? This wasn't how he envisioned his night would go.

"There. It wasn't hard, was it?" Deva asked without remorse. From this up close, it would be so easy to choke Deva but Varadha just couldn't do it, this man and his confidence will be the death of him, he instead settled his hand on Deva's shoulder for balance.

"I won't even touch you, you can just sit on my lap as I finish my cigarette how about that?" Deva asked the question like Varadha has other choice, he actually has, but there's something at the back of his head who whispered to him that he should play this game.

"Is this some kind of kink to you? Asking any random man to be on your lap?" Varadha questioned him accusingly.

Deva only chuckled, puffing out yet again another smoke but this time to other direction that didn't bother Varadha.

"The only man, can you believe? Usually there are girls. The first man I saw that I want to be on my lap." Deva told him truthfully, his eyes are wild, he couldn't control it, scanning Varadha's figure, fixated on his exposed chest.

Varadha noticed those hungry gaze, the warm feeling quickly spreading to his entire body turning his cheeks into shade of pink.

"Should I be flattered? Or you use this line to all the man you pick up? To make them feel special?" He challenged again, despite his best effort to conceal what he was feeling, Deva's words had started affecting him.

Varadha involuntarily whimpered when Deva's hand brushed his waist accidentally when he took his drink on the table.

Deva smirked at his reaction.

"You are so skittish just from so little. Sitting on my lap is not a hard task is it? Or do you want me to do more?" Deva asked from under his eyes like a predator while he drink his whiskey, his plush lips shining from the remnant of the liquor and Varadha suddenly had an urge to know how those lips taste.

Shit, what's happening.

"What did you drink awhile ago?" Deva's deep voice pulling Varadha out of his reverie; another inhale to his cigarette.

"Just a margarita." He answered shortly, tearing his gaze away from Deva's tempting lips.

"Can I have a taste?" Deva asked again.

"I drank it all in one go, I doubt there's anything left unless you asked your bartender to make a new one., after all it's your club." Varadha said matter of factly.

"But there's still some on your lips. I can have those." Deva raised one of his eyebrows unashamedly. Varadha almost gasped at his attitude but yet again he shouldn't be so surprised anymore considering their situation currently.

"Is this a new trick to ask for a kiss?"

"Only if it's proven successful." Deva looked at him with anticipation and Varadha didn't know what come into him, he was already curious about how Deva's plush lips would taste like and now there's even an invitation from the owner, so what was he waiting for?

Varadha slowly leaning down and place the softest kiss on Deva's lips, the spark that Deva felt from just a little touch almost made him unable to control himself not to take more than what Varadha offered, luckily he could refrain himself and stay still, waiting for whatever Varadha gave him.

After awhile Varadha pulled away, his eyes glazed with something new, there's no more hatred in there, only a novel desire.

"There's a hint of citrus there but other than that I could barely taste it, can I ask for more?" Deva brushed the bottom of his lip with his thumb, once again being so blatant with his flirting.

Varadha didn't object the request, instead he dived down once again, this time pushing his tongue through Deva's open mouth, Deva welcome him way too eagerly, quickly entangled Varadha's soft tongue with his own, sucking on it like he's truly chasing the remaining liquor taste left on Varadha's tongue.

The couple was lost in each other's taste, forgetting the space and time completely like there's no one else in the room but only the two of them, music distance in their ears, conversations swallowed into background noise, all they could hear was just each other's labor breathing and the passion of their heart in their own ears, it's intoxicating and deafening.

Varadha's mind start to go fuzzy on Deva's lap, he almost lost his balance when Deva's tongue literally assaulted his mouth with how deep he could reach inside, Varadha hasn't kiss many men before, he clearly wasn't accustomed with a man's strength and their hunger, usually he was the dominant one but now he almost couldn't handle the way Deva literally fuck his mouth with his tongue alone.

Varadha quickly encircled both his arms around Deva's neck to support himself because he felt like he was floating. Deva immediately put his hands around Varadha's slim waist, holding him in place and pulling him closer toward him, he slowly rest more of his body into into the armrests and pulled Varadha with him making Varadha straddled his lap completely.

After what feel eternity, Varadha break away from Deva's demanding mouth breathlessly, he rest his forehead agaisnt Deva's, staring down at the handsome Devil beneath him.

Deva slowly opened his eyes, the hunger still visible in them, lips glistened with the mingle of their spits. Varadha is instantly in love.

Deva close the distance between them to planted a kiss at his mookuthi, then the tip of his nose before kissing his lips softly.

"Gosh, you are so damn beautiful, Varadha. You have been running around in my mind for a whole week how dare you run away from me after you throw yourself into my arms that night! Almost make me go ballistic because how much I want to have my way with you, but I was trying my best to be a gentleman to you, but deep down I want ...I want to eat you up." Deva confessed boldly. He was indeed holding himself back from pursuing Varadha because he didn't know if he would be interested and he liked him too much to scare him away or hurt him but fate keep serving Varadha in a silver platter for him, tempting him to take a bite.

"What do you want to do to me if I allowed you to have your way with me?" Varadha teased between the hammering of his heart inside his chest for this dangerous man, he never meet anyone who could be so honest about what they want, he knows he is playing with fire, but damn him, he loves the color it makes.

.

"Oh..I will show you pretty baby, I will show you all night long."

Deva pulled Varadha on his face with both of his hands for another passionate kiss.

.

"Bilal, come pick me up, I am drunk and can't drive."

"Where's Varadha?" Bilal asked with concern in his voice.

"I am the one who called you and yet you only think about young master, Varadha."

"It's not like that, you know how he is, he couldn't handle a liquor too much."

"You wouldn't believe where he is right now, man."

"On Deva's lap?"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU A FREAKING PSYCHIC BRO?" Rinda yelled through the cellphone, suddenly feeling sober.

"I swear to God trouble always find that boy and now it's the biggest trouble of his life. Wait there don't go anywhere I will come right away, keep eye on Varadha."

"Can't anymore, man. We have lost him. I saw Deva carrying him on his hips with one arm to his car where our dear Varadha shamelessly clinging to him like a little koala. It was comical and embarrassing. Varadha couldn't stop kissing him and climbing on him like a horny little cat, pick me up I am too embarrassed no one want to go back with me to my place. Before I cry here feeling so single!"

.

Part 3

[ratedfleur]

heyy! how are u?? i hope u're fine! i wanted to ask if u can do "sex on the beach/pool with gyuvin" tyy!!🫶🏻

sex by the pool or beach is fun, especially when you have a huge figured boyfriend like gyuvin. nobody could ever tell something was happening in the water if you and gyuvin were quote unquote playing around.

from what it looks like it was a romantic scene between a couple, it was a scene full of lust if they could see what was happening underwater.

gyuvin was sporting a hard on the moment you took of your cover up before you went to the water. when he pulled you into his lap when he sat by the pool bar, you could feel how hard he was.

“hun, stop moving.” gyuvin muttered as you shifted on top of him, you smirk before moving once more.

you hum, “i’m not doing anything?” you chuckle before you felt gyuvin pinch your hip.

you let your hand move underneath you, hand slipping underneath gyuvin’s swimming trunks before you slipped his length out of it, letting it slap against his abs.

now slightly hovering above his lap, you spread your legs just in the slightest way before reaching down to set aside just a slither of your bikini before sinking down on gyuvin’s cock that he held just above your cunt.

now cockwarming gyuvin, he felt extremely relaxed despite the circumstance of having people around you, passing and swimming around.

[whore-era]

under the weather

☁︎ ellie williams x fem!reader ☁︎ fluff ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes care of her sick girlfriend. ☁︎ a/n: my first ellie fic! let me know how u guys like it, reblogs and comments r much much appreciated! ☁︎ word count: 1,475

“babe! open up!”

“i’m coming, i’m coming,” you muttered, tightening the blanket wrapped around you.

opening the front door, a gust of crisp, frigid wind blew in your face inducing a full-body shiver. stepping inside the foyer of your house, ellie gave you a confused look as she leaned down to greet you with a kiss on your forehead. 

“why’re you still in your pjs? we start patrol in 45 minutes,” she asked. about to answer her question, you let out a deafening sneeze. 

“i know, babe. i’m sorry- i- i woke up late this morning and, you know, i’m still trying to wake up a little bit but i’m feeling a bit-,” you pause to sneeze, “-a bit groggy.”

you use your long sleeve shirt to wipe your nose, and as disgusting as that was, you couldn’t be bothered to care. your head was pounding, your throat was sore, and your nose was all red and runny. it was obvious you’ve seen better days. 

“just give me 10 m-minutes, els. i’ll be dressed for patrol,” you murmured, attempting to reassure ellie with a weak smile. 

you should’ve known she was smarter than that. she took one look at you—still in your pajamas with messy hair and a blanket cocooning your frame—and determined that you wouldn’t be going anywhere; knowing that if you were to step out of the warmth of your home into the freezing, jackson winter, you’d probably pass out. 

“oh, no. you will not be getting dressed, little lady, let alone going to patrol,” she raised a brow at you, and her cold hands made their way to cup your cheeks. the unexpected chill of her palms on your face evoked a wince from you. 

“fuck, baby, you’re burning up,” she cooed at you, “you’re in no shape to be leaving this house today.” 

“then what are we gonna-,” sneeze, “-do?”, you look up at her with glossy eyes. her green orbs soften and she lets out an apprehensive sigh.

“well, i’m gonna go let jesse know that we won’t be going to patrol today,” your brows furrowed in confusion. did she say ‘we’? 

“what do you mean ‘we’?”, you asked, your voice coming out all congested and muffled. 

“uh, yeah. you think i’m gonna let my favorite girl stay here all alone?”, ellie narrowed her eyes, “especially while she’s sick?” 

“els, i can take care of myself just fine,“ you countered, “just have jesse or dina take my place instead. i don’t want you seeing me all ugly and germy and gross.”

she let out one of her award-winning laughs, “you’re still the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen, even if you’re quote-unquote ‘germy and gross’,” “besides, it’d bug me all day knowing i left you alone while you weren’t feeling good.”

“but-“ you began, but before you had time to interject, your girlfriend interrupted you.

“no buts, you know damn well you would do the same for me, baby.” ellie walked over to you, taking your ice-cold hands into hers, squeezing them tenderly to warm them up. “let me take care of you.” 

of course, you couldn’t say no to her. the way she’s just so insistent on taking care of you, even when you’re all snotty-nosed and sneezy. it made your heart swell. 

“m’kay.” you gave in softly looking down at your feet, “i..i just feel bad, y’know? they need you out there.”

ellie’s finger lifted your chin up softly, your eyes meeting with her green ones. “i know, sweet girl. but right now, you need me in here.” she leans down and kisses you briefly on the lips, sending your heart in a frenzy, as all her kisses did.

“why don’t you go in your room and lay back down? yea, baby?” ellie instructed, “i’m gonna go real quick and tell jess the news. i’ll be back in a sec.” 

-

you weren’t sure when you woke up from your short nap, but by the time you did, ellie still hadn’t been back yet. it worried you a bit, and if you weren’t feeling so feeble and faint, you’d definitely be searching for her right now. 

so, there you were, sprawled out on your bed, blankets tangled between your legs every which way. your eyes shut closed, but your body sank into the silence, soothing you.

you hear the front door open and then close. god, if i’m about to be robbed, then this will be their easiest heist yet. you had no energy to even call out who it was. 

“babe? y’awake?”, ellie greets with a knock on your bedroom door. 

“mmm.” you managed to groan in response, you pick your head up and squint your eyes open, seeing that your girlfriend has changed her clothes into something a bit more comfortable—a hoodie with sweats—and that she has a bag in her hand. 

“what’s that?” you question, using your elbows to prop yourself up in bed. ellie walks over to you, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. she opens the bag and inside is a thermos, various snacks, tea bags, medicine, and a DVD. 

“i just thought i’d pick up some things for you. i mean— we’re gonna be here all day. didn’t wanna be unprepared,” she scratched the back of her neck and smiled sheepishly. you wrapped your arms around her tightly, “thank you.” you whispered. 

her arms wrapped around your waist, one of her hands rubbing your back soothingly, “it’s nothing. anything for you, sweet girl.”

as you sat in bed, watching the DVD ellie picked up, ellie took care of everything. 

turns out, maria made a batch of chowder for you after hearing that you were feeling under the weather. she also threw in some tea bags to help soothe the sore throat. ellie made sure you were bundled up like a baby, and had no complaints tending to you or cleaning up after your messes. 

now your head laid on her lap, both of you intent on the movie playing in front of you. you turned your head, admiring the way ellie’s eyes were so focused and how perfectly her freckles sprinkled her face. she looked down at you, catching you red-handed.

“what?” she asked, shakiness in her voice.

“nothing.” you murmured, your eyes still studying her. 

“y’sure?”

“yea,” you smiled, “i just like looking at you.” 

hues of pink faded onto her cheekbones and across her speckled nose, “well— stop.” 

“why?” 

ellie let out a nervous laugh, which was new to you. “because you’re making me nervous.” 

you smiled and rolled your eyes, “fine, fine.” but now ellie couldn’t stop looking at your face. she intently studied every detail; the wisps of your eyelashes, the curves of your nose, the way the soft glow of the TV illuminated your face, the shape of your lips. it was like she was seeing you for the first time all over again. falling in love with you all over again. 

ellie didn't care if your hair was all over the place or if your nose was red from rubbing it all day. she didn't give a fuck if you were dressed down, or if you sounded 'weird'. even in your sickest state, she still thought you were the most gorgeous girl this universe had to offer.

she bent her head down, planting yet another warm kiss on your lips. 

“you’ve got to stop kissing me before you get sick, silly goose.” you contended, eliciting a laugh from her. 

“if i were to get sick for every time i kissed you, put me in the hospital,” ellie joked. you snorted and rolled your eyes, “ha ha, nice one.” 

you got up, and sat against the headboard of your bed next to her. “seriously though, els. thank you for doing all of this for me,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “no one’s really ever done this for me before.” you looked down at your hands, beginning to feel all shy in front of her now. it was a habit, avoiding eye contact with ellie everytime you were opening up to her. it made you feel vulnerable and anxious. 

“hey, look at me,” she lifts your chin up, your eyes meeting hers again, “what’d i tell you?” 

ellie’s eyes studied yours, “i’ll always take care of you. as long as you’re with me, i’ll be the one taking care of you.” no doubt was in her voice. 

“‘kay, sweet girl?”, she asked, and you nodded. ellie smiled at you and her lips pressed against your cheek. 

“i love you.” your heart warmed up and your stomach erupted with butterflies. it always took you by surprise how much of an effect ellie had on your body. 

“i love you, ellie.” 

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

In The Woods Somewhere

Chapter 1: Mortification Of The Flesh

Summary: What are you left to do, finding yourself in a place you can’t call home but home isn’t a place you can return to either?

Pairing: Father Ignatius x nun!afab!Reader

Word Count: ~ 1.7k

Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat 18+!, Graphic Discourse About Guilt, Shame And Trauma, Explicit Self-Destructive Behaviour Under The Pretense Of Self-Flagellation, Abusive Family Relations, Hurt/No Comfort

A/N: The Lambs Of God fandom is tiny! Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment <3

Story-adjacent Playlist here!

No pressure tags: @theprettiesthead @queer-crusader @midnight-mess @blueberrypancakesworld

She moved with shameless wonder

The perfect creature rarely seen

Since some liar brought the thunder

When the land was godless and free

- Foreigner’s God By Hozier

“Are you not hungry, Sister?” Carla quipped as the beautifully red-headed woman drilled a fork into a piece of somewhat overcooked and under-seasoned potato.

“Not much, I’m afraid.” Your answer came just as void of motivation as your overall interest in having dinner that cloudy evening.

Summer was passing a little more each day now and the first cold winds had started to creep into the many cracks of the old stone walls. However, it wasn’t only the swift drop in temperature that made you shimmy lightly in your tightly knitted robe.

“Can I please be excused? Sister Margarita?” You turned to look at the oldest woman sitting across from you at the table.

Sister Margarita looked up from her assortment of steamed late-summer vegetables, slightly chapped lips pursed into an inquiring expression.

“I don’t feel all too well, Sister. I would very much like to go to be early tonight.” The older woman listened to your explanation, lowering her fork whilst looking at you; examining.

“Iphigenia, don’t you think she looks quite pale today?” Margarita turned to the last member of your tiny and overly secluded sisterhood, not immediately addressing you, even if it was very much your problem, which was the topic of discussion at the dinner table right now.

“Oh, dear, yes, I was thinking that as well, Margarita.” Iphigenia nodded in agreement before bringing the discourse back to you, “You are excused, my dear. Please let me know if you need anything, a calming cup of tea, perhaps?”

With a fake smile adorning your lips, you waved the kind offer off and quickly removed yourself from the dinner table, hasty steps carrying you to the chambers you shared with Sister Carla. She was a few years younger than you yet much better versed in the ways this monastery was run by the older Sisters since she’d spent her entire life here, unlike you. You’d been sent here, discarded by your parents after being kicked from a catholic all-girls high school for being a quote-unquote “troublemaker”. Troublemaker… you scoffed upon remembering the afternoon they’ve had you pack all your most prized possessions in a small suitcase, barely 2 hours before being shipped here like a parcel which was lacking a “Return to sender!” note. Your parents paid good money to the church on the mainland to have you kept here; fed, clothed, and indoctrinated thoroughly. It had been about 10 years now, the occasional letter from your parents arriving around Christmas and some years also around Easter when they could be bothered to remember having an eldest daughter and not just their little love child in the form of your younger brother.

Lost in thoughts, you kicked the heavy door open, letting it fall back into its frame equally unfazed after you entered the room and threw yourself onto your bed, face buried into the flimsy pillow to muffle a deep groan clawing its way out of your throat. Some nights you could barely stand to be here yet being at “home” wasn’t something you would’ve wanted either. There was no real place like a home for you anymore and this brittle, old monastery in the very middle of buttfuck nowhere was unfortunately the best you could get.

You whined your frustration into the pillow anew before turning onto your back and staring at the gray-in-gray stone ceiling; thoughts wandering from one source of frustration to the next, accompanied by a guilty pang vibrating through your empty stomach.

Every quarter a priest from the mainland paid the Sisters of St. Agnes a visit. You’ve heard Sister Iphigenia joke about it being his quarterly holiday but you hardly believed this place to be the location of Father Ignatius’ vacation desires. Did priests even go on vacation? You shrugged your shoulders subconsciously. It was only a matter of days before he’d come around again like the Inquisition to make sure this far-off place didn’t stray far off the scripture just because the sisterhood very much could. Unfortunately, nobody here seemed to harbor this kind of sentiment, nobody besides you; half-torn between the sacred writings and experiences from your past life still beating and begging for attention inside of you.

The latter ones had been awfully loud inside your thoughts again, primitive wants and needs thrashing through your body from the time you’d wake up to the point you’d drift off into sleep. No matter how devoted you’d knelt in prayer to whomever, might it be a god, the universe, or the spirits of the forest of this old land, the pressing thoughts of desire had prevailed to haunt you through every waking moment.

You knew them all too well and where they'd get you once your resistance slipped, the still painfully vibrant memories of your mother's manicured nails smacking against your cheekbone your imminent reminder. A whore, she'd called you, a cheap slut working the corner in no time, she'd fired those words at you like flesh-piercing ammunition, bellowing at you to get your shit together and stop sobbing so pathetically.

Thinking about it, you felt a sense of rage mixing with the guilt. Men made you do stupid things, terribly stupid, stupid, stupid! First the janitor's son back in high school and now this priest with his pretty hair and beautiful eyes. No, stop! Your own hand slapped against your cheekbone and you shook your head, not quite crying but squirming in shame most certainly.

“No…no!” The brief sting of pain wasn't enough to rip you out of it and the next thing you sought to help yourself with were the palms of your hands pushing into your eye sockets until your whole skull throbbed from the rapidly building pressure.

“Stupid whore! Dumb slut! Shit daughter! Disgrace!” The words spilled from your mouth in your mother's fashion over and over again until you bit down into the flesh of your wrist to keep your lips from betraying you. A pained wince was muffled by your teeth pressing into the skin of your arm, leaving reddened dents after pulling away again.

You found yourself breathing heavily as you came down from your sudden outburst, a hot wash of tears forming at your lower lash line with eyes bloodshot from the harsh assault.

Pathetic! Pathetic! Pathetic!

Couldn't even control your own wretched thoughts! No wonder your parents wanted nothing to do with you. You were useless and perverted and…oh, no…don't you sniffle just now about your own incompetence. Don't cry.

Don't. You. Cry. Now.

And you choked it all back, every little sob or wail. All of it back down your burning throat like sanding paper against splintering wood. Accumulating pain rippled through you in tiding pulses and yet it didn’t feel like you were suffering enough, it had to be more to be truly cleansing, to make you stop wanting things you mustn’t desire.

With your thoughts racing and reeling through your mind, you tried to remember where you’d discarded the whip Sister Margarite had made you craft during the very first weeks of your stay here on the island. The oldest Sister had been frighteningly adamant about it and at first, you’d believed the crude tool to be for beating you through the halls and corridors but that hadn’t been the case, at least not by someone else’s hand. No, no, Sister Margarite supervised the making of this leathery thing to have you gift it to yourself eventually, advising you to use it on your own demand. Only lately have you started even considering it. For years, the torturous tool had been left to collect dust…but where, damn it, where?

You couldn’t recall it fast enough but your atonement also couldn’t wait, you’d have to make due somehow. Like lightning, the decision struck, and mere seconds later you shoved your hands underneath the loose collar of your robe, fingertips creeping across your collarbones and up behind the curve of your shoulders until dirty, bitten-off nails drilled down into the skin. You wanted to scream as you pulled your clawing hands back to your chest, raggedy nails tearing through the first layers of skin at ease, however, you forbade yourself from emitting the faintest sound; suffering in silence the only righteous way about it.

And again, hands reaching back to clasp into the quickly forming groves of torn skin to wreak havoc some more, until…until…droplets of wet warmth pooled around your trembling fingertips, squelching along the curve and soaking dark red spots into the knitted patterns of greyish wool.

You still felt like crying but effectively rendered yourself too numb to do so. Finally, the pain thundering through your every nerve ending now had burned it all away, every malevolent and treacherous thought of things that mustn't be thought, felt and god forbid experienced.

Every little expression on your face slipped off of it as you sat yourself back up, the cloth-covered hay mattress underneath you rustling quietly; the only leftover want being that of having a little space to yourself, someplace to hide away at for an hour or two. With your hands still firmly pressed against the self-inflicted cuts and scratches, you fled this room you shared with Sister Carla, although the two of you usually stuck with one another, she didn’t need to know everything.

The confessional, you thought, the makeshift shack forming a confessional with doors to maintain a modicum of privacy.

[inventors-fair]

Important Tips!

Huh? Oh, shoot, that's right. I'm not exactly around for stuff right now, sorry, this is a queued post.

So, uh, I thought I'd say some stuff about what to keep in mind for when you're submitting cards, because I've noticed a couple things that I'd like to pass on.

1. The more effort you put in, the easier it is to talk about your card.

This is something that feels strange to say, because I want to feel that everyone puts in as much effort as they can when they submit. I'm no professional critic, so I'm not going to tear everyone's dreams down and say that only suffering creators are worthy of positive feedback. What I'm trying to say is that it's always better to push for the limits and then dial it back than to push up to the edge and say "good enough."

It's far easier than it might seem to see which cards reach that "good enough" point when they are, indeed, good enough. And goodness is good! What that means on our side is that there's a functional card that ends up being particularly hard to talk about because its presented goal is to be functional. Again, that doesn't make for a quote-unquote "bad" card—but a card that's got effort, no matter what kind, gets that hook where we can actually talk about it. Talking about a card's weirdness opens up dialogue, whereas function alone ends up inadvertently stifling it. If you're worried about a card going too far, at the very least you're pushing for a conversation, and that's where the crux of card creation as an art lies.

2. It's okay if it's been done before—just make me care.

Then again, you'll also hear me say that simplicity is the way to go for winning cards. That's a bit of a hard line to balance, because on the one hand I do like talking about the kooky nonsense that people submit here from time to time, but I also love a well-executed trope. I suppose the challenge here is where "well-executed" lies.

For some people, that'll be enough just to reference certain characters or planes or events or the fact that there's a Saw in the set about murder-house-clown-horror. That much never gets my engine going. No, it's the matter of choice, of circumstance, of history, of all the possibilities that the mechanics and/or flavor are depicting that matter. Cards have action, and cards also have impact, and cards also-also have their own little world where this all takes place. If I could break down how every part of a card mattered, then I sure as hell would, but that's a post for another day when I don't have the world on my shoulders.

All I'll say is that you gotta consider, for any given trope, what the emotional hook is for someone who may not otherwise care about the trope. You're making an argument, and you're here to win me over.

3. Ambiguity is the mind-killer.

And by that, I mean that "I don't get it" will create frustrations upon frustrations. Where are there the biggest potential ambiguities? Great question, me, let's see.

Name: If you're going for something esoteric in the name, the rest of the card's gotta explain it. Actions need to be connected to the name.

Flavor text: Is there someone talking? Is it related to the action of the card, or something before, or something after? Does it flow well off the tongue? Show it to someone else—do they understand?

And most importantly: how are these elements connected?

4. Don't add flavor text if you don't need it.

If you have a lot of rules text on your card, you're good without flavor text. If you can't think of anything that's not already being expressed, some up with something different. If you're not confident, keep writing until you are. Creative writing is hard. Really hard. Trust me. In the end, you're just gonna have to keep at it. Pro tip: read more if you want to get better at writing. Read beyond what you usually read and it might surprise you.

5. And if nothing else, add an art description.

Art is integral to a lot of Magic cards. Seriously! If you feel that you're missing anything, use your words to say what you wanna say. Or if you're really not sure how to describe it, draw it yourself! Draw it badly! I'm a terrible artist and I still absolutely love drawing because sometimes you just have to get those ideas out of your head. It matters to your vision and it matters to the card.

Adding mood, placement, color, etc. can create the context that cards need that otherwise can't be depicted on the text or even the flavor text. Treat it as part of the main dish, as it were.

I know I've said some of this stuff before, but I hope you're still reading and learning like I am. Lord knows I've got a lot to learn.

@abelzumi

[ideas-4-stories]

(Context: Nonbinary Buggy Supremacy, agender? Undetermined? Genderfluid? Who cares, the clown is a cutie no matter what they wear!!!)

Buggy figures out from an early age that they aren't really... a boy. Exactly? Maybe? Screw it. Sometimes being called a cabin boy or little man is okay, sometimes it's not, it's WEIRD and they don't like it. So they just. Avoid it.

Roger + Crew call Bugs and Shanks the cabin brats, they drop most of the man and boy comments, opting usually for brat or runt instead. And it works!

Then one day someone picks on Buggy playfully and calls them princess ((was it the hands-on-hips haughty fit? Was it a story book reference? Smth else? Dealer's choice))

Only... Buggy doesn't mind that. And soon enough, princess becomes a frequent nickname. And with it comes the tentative try at other names. Buggy likes neutral ones best, but they also feel pretty when they get called quote-unquote feminine terms as well. Masculine ones are... uncomfortable at best, but bearable by necessity.

After the execution, the world is in a tizzy searching for the last vestiges of Roger. Baterilla is a hot fucking mess, but equally easy targets are the newly separated cabin brats of the Roger Crew.

They are looking for Shanks, who is already making a name for himself, and the elusive "princess".

Buggy... is scared. So they distance themself from the truth of the matter, leave sea-salted, warm memories of laughter and hugs and teaching hand behind alongside a baritone voice calling them his pirate princess.

The Navy then ruins everything by publically calling them a crewmate of Roger, a cabin boy, a brother, a man and Buggy is going to be sick-

Luffy is the only one to clock something is wrong, and he reaches out. The ride to marineford isn't quite as fast as some would hope, so he uses this time to figure out what the hell is going on. And Luffy, in that hat, with a smile and dream so much like Roger, with a heart so full and warm like Shanks...

Luffy gets Buggy to talk.

By the end of it, Luffy nods. "You're the clown princess of the Seas, then," he declares. "If Shanks is your brother. He's an Emperor, right? So you can still be princess. Besides, I'll be king! So that just means you're my family too. Can I call you untie?"

Buggy doesn't cry, they DON'T.

But they might hug Strawhat once or twice, and maybe they even keep an eye on their new nephew. And learning his brother is Captain's son...?

Well. Luffy did claim them as family already.

And Buggy was raised by one of the best damn families there was, after all. Family means nobody gets away with hurting one of their own.

Now they aren't strong, they aren't built for brawls.

But maybe Buggy is fast enough, clever enough, and distracting enough to get some serious damage dealt.

((And maybe they can catch the attention of a few warlords, past or present, in the process...))

Buggy's gender is like lost in a Schrödinger's box that was sent to space... much like my gender. Hahahahahaha little projecting this is.

Anyway, this is so fucking cute I cannot, I wanted to cry when I read the part Luffy is being such a sweetheart that he always is. I was also thinking Princess being a nickname that Roger gave Buggy.

Poor Buggy having to distant themselves from who she is and his past. The world is too cruel to Buggy, well until he gets his crew... then other things happen... Buggy has a lot going for him... RIP

Luffy claiming Buggy as family!!! It's too cute!!!

As part, I think Buggy doesn't like fighting unless it's truly necessary, like saving a crewmate life sort of thing. Headcanon of Buggy being very fast and nimble even as he grows older, and Buggy was definitely the brains to Shanks's brawn.

(Buggy catching attention of a few warlords is so good to pass up)

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

daisy, chapter ten

A/N: I can not believe this is the last chapter! it's done! thank you for reading it, if you've been here since the start or if you just started reading it two seconds ago, thank you ♡

summary: “I don’t want the summer to end…”

warnings: private school!reader, perv!steve, kissing, this is technically scoops ahoy era steve, swimming, crying

word count: 1051

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previous chapter - series masterlist

In what felt like the blink of an eye, high school became a thing of the past. With the warmer months rolling by, not a day passed where you and Steve weren’t practically glued to each other. 

Even as he busied himself with what he considered to be a slightly embarrassing summer job at the mall, that still didn’t stop him from hiding you in the ice cream shop’s break room, poking his head in way too often simply to steal a kiss. 

Though on his days off, Steve always insisted on doing something quote-unquote special. Relaxed out by his family's pool as you read a trashy novel out loud for the both of you to enjoy, went out into the forest and had a cute little picnic, you even went on a road trip together one weekend, just the two of you. Packed up his little red car and zoomed out into the world. Stayed up way too late, sprawled out on top of the hood of his car and holding each other tight as you gazed up at the night sky. You’d stay there for so long that you’d eventually fall asleep, although Steve must have picked you up and carried you to shelter, because you always woke up in the back of his car, still secure in his embrace. 

But on this day, since the summer days were unfortunately running out, Steve took you out to lover’s lake. It was the perfect weather for a dip in the water and somehow, you’d gotten super lucky and didn’t see another eye out there all day. 

Running out into the water for what must have been the third time today, you glanced back at your best friend as he took his sweet time. Sending a splash of water in his direction, you giggled as it hit your target perfectly. 

Catching your eye with a small gasp of a laugh, his feet quickly found hast as he rushed towards you, “oh, I’m gonna get you for that!” managing to catch your waist before you could swim away. You yelped as he lifted you up and fireman carried you further out, the water quickly coming up to meet his ribs.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” you giggled as he playfully tossed you into the blue depths. Rapidly getting back up, you briefly wiped the water out of your eyes and pushed your drenched hair back before launching another big wave towards him. The both of you laughing and splashing each other abruptly ceased as his long arms wrapped around you, simultaneously holding your arms down and stopping your attack, but also drawing you in closer to his sodden fuzzy chest. 

Looking up into his eyes, your laughter dimmed into a sincere smile, “thank you, Steve,” you uttered earnestly, the warm skin-against-skin contact your bathing suits allowed effectively shifted the mood, making you forget the game entirely. 

“For what?” his brows furrowed lightly through his grin, fingers tangling themselves in the strings of your red bikini. 

“These past few months,” you breathed, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed, “they’ve been perfect.” 

“You’re perfect,” he replied sweetly, though the affectionate answer only caused your smile to fall from your lips. 

“I-…” you averted your gaze, hands coming up for a bit of support against his chest, “I don’t want the summer to end…” you admitted, quickly crumbling into his sun-kissed skin, hiding your face from him, “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna leave you.” 

Oh, how quickly the joy faded and made way for the tears you didn’t even realise had been building up and was now more than ready to tumble out. 

“No, no, no,” he swiftly cradled your face, tilting it back so you could meet his eyes, “you are gonna go,” he told you determinately through his quivering lip, “you have worked your ass off for this, so you are gonna go off and become a doctor.”

You knew, of course you knew it was stupid to even consider throwing your dream away for a boy, but you still couldn’t deny the truth, “I don’t wanna leave you.”

“I’ll be okay,” you felt his fingertips wipe your tears away, “I have a car,” that fact didn’t comfort you much being aware of the colossal distance it would have to drive in order to reach you, “and you know,” he bit the corner of his bottom lip, choosing his next words very carefully, “with you gone, there isn’t really anything tying me to Hawkins anymore… I’m not going to college, at least not now. I just need a job, a different job,” he added with a small wince, recalling the current uniform he had to wear, “and I could really do that anywhere…. I mean, if you’d like me to…”

Completely and utterly stunned, not truly believing his words, you blinked up at him, “are you-… do you-….”

“Only if you want me to,” he searched your glossy eyes, bending his knees in the water a bit to be more at your level. 

“Oh my god…” you uttered as you noticed the sincerity in his expression, “Steve, I can’t ask you to just do that,” you shook your head, your heart desperately wanting you to say yes, “move that far away?”

“You’re not,” he said quickly, “I’m the one asking,” tears blurred your vision once more, though this time they were accompanied by the smallest of smiles, “so, ace,” he took a deep breath and asked you, “do you want a roommate over there? I hear Boston gets really cold in the winter. Who knows, I might just come in handy.”

As quickly as your growing grin crinkled up your wet cheeks, that’s how rapidly you leaned in and kissed his lips. Practically climbing him like a tree, he eventually scooped you up, digging his fingers into your thighs and drawing you as close as he possibly could. 

“Don’t you dare ever break my heart, Steve,” you pulled back, a shaky breath escaping your lungs, “I don’t wanna lose my best friend.” 

Letting out a small, relieved exhale, he tilted his head and asked with a grin, “so, is that a yes?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, just managing the quickest of nods before you felt his lips attack yours once more. 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[elhnrt]

Actually to your point about feudal era japanese movies 👀 I started watching Rurouni Kenshin. It's not feudal but I love that period of transition. I did try to actually was Shogun but I was too busy to quite sink my teeth into it so it went back on the watchlist. Have you seen it and would you recommend it? The other films I know that are famous in the states are Kurosawa movies but I always feel a bit apprehensive since there's too many braindead filmbro takes on those... I want to watch them but I'm scared lol. A lot of my references actually come from Chinese period dramas because that is what is most easily accessible and familiar to me but I know it's not the same.

-no comment on rurouni kenshin. haven't read or watched it but i do know about the author's felonies. -i watched 4eps of shogun and it was fine. really liked the scene where the girl choked out the guy fucking her. could have used better lighting, but would recommend. -i'm going to put on MY filmbro hat (because sorry. i am a filmbro (sigma). comes with the territory) and say it's a bit of a reductive take to call the widespread enjoying of renowned director akira kurosawa's, inspiration to ingmar bergman and werner herzog and andrei tarkovsky, works as 'braindead filmbro takes' because 1. i guarantee you they are only talking about seven samurai, which isn't even his best film imo and 2. there is a reason why he is so highly regarded not only in the west but worldwide. it's the same kind of thing about people who call scorsese and kubrick enjoyers 'filmbros'. they are prolific because these directors are objectively good. the issue arises when people can't disseminate between what makes these movies good versus just flexing their film 'knowledge'. important to note. taxi driver is my favorite english language film. but not because travis bickle is my idol about rising up against the quote unquote scum of society. -but i am having a laugh to myself imagining average film guy going "EPIC SAMURAI MOVIE" and not being able to talk about the other two and a half hours of the runtime let alone any other kurosawa work -therefore: why be scared of these wieners -cn period dramas are great fun, not something i can comment on in particular since it's mostly a passing fancy to me, and most of my cn period stuff is just kung fu movies but these all, like you said, are not the same at all as the tokugawa shogunate or sengoku period. probably different fighting styles too. now i'm in a wiki rabbit hole about this. dog bless

[remidyal]

Bad Ideas of the Day, part 5, Even Worse Edition

It's time for my monthly-ish roundup of my regular bad ideas of the day from the D20 fanfic discord! Last month's is available here and has links back to all the prior ones because now there's too many for me to be bothered direct linking here!

As usual, these are a mix of fantasy high and other D20 prompts and are open for anyone who wants to do something with them, though I appreciate letting me know because I wanna read it!

Bad idea of the day, class swap (but not like that) edition: Due to a clerical error - namely, their cleric signed them up for it - all of the bad kids have to attend each other's classes for a week, resulting in Fabian sitting through a Worlds Religion lecture, Kristen doing her -3 Dex best to sneak around in rogue classes, Gorgug going to the bard classes that Fig never actually went to, Riz doing his best to remember everything Adaine's ever mentioned about how wizarding works, Fig faking fighting instead of raging for once, and Adaine trying to pass off her furious fist as just being how her anger manifests

Bad idea of the day, abc edition: In the village of Happly, at the harvest festival, Pinnochio enters his infamous bubblegum and whiskey pie and gets himself run out of town by a mob of angry villagers

Bad Idea of the Day, Toxic Masculinity is Undead edition: The adventurers of Solace are well aware of Halloween, because every year on that date the soulless corpses of villains slain in the past year rise again to chase after their killers. Can Fabian keep ahead of both Zombie Penelope Everpetal and Zombie Bill Seacaster?

Bad idea of the day, Figueroth Faeth's Day Off edition: Receiving notification halfway through junior year that one more unexcused absence is going to result in her being expelled, Fig drags her friends into a heist to break into the school, fake her attendance record and show that she's been there the whole time.

Bad Idea of the Day, Drama Edition: It turns out that there's a reason that Aguefort has a theater department. Once every hundred years, a performance must be put on that is quote truly moving unquote lest the school be destroyed, and it turns out that Riz is fated to play the heroine of the most recent attempt. Can the Bad Kids teach him to not botch his lines or hide under the stage?

Bad idea of the day, not all cats are good cats: Puss in Boots must fight off a new contender for children's hearts and minds as the trickster cat du dour. Can he successfully murder this strange cat and his lame rhymes and thing-like minions to keep his throne, or will he be the first to fall to seussian influences?

Bad idea of the day, death stalks you edition: Adaine starts sending out Solstice cards to people who annoy her throughout the year with prophecies of their deaths. Most of them she just makes up, but one or two are genuine every year just to mix things up.

Bad idea of the day, World's Greatest Detective edition: Riz is asked to solve a murder that seems to have all the classic detective tropes he truly loves involved; it's only partway through that he realizes that Fabian, with their friends' help, has staged it because they were all worried about Riz getting bored and spiraling between quests.

Bad idea of the day, I know Halloween was two days ago but I rewatched in the mouth of madness recently edition: The Bad Kids come to realize they are being controlled by mysterious and unknowable forces, and reach a decision: To cut off the flow of evil into the world, they are going to need to find and kill whatever a 'DM' is.

Bad idea of the day, I think we've all learned some valuable lessons here edition: The Dream Team realizes some kind of truly awful existence is sweeping over new york, in which every conversation and conflict ends with everyone having picked up a seemingly valuable but really quite shallow moral to the tale; they eventually figure out that it is in fact an attempt by a powerful sorcerer to turn the world into an after school special on this, a very special episode of The Unsleeping City.

Bad idea of the day, No Really A Starstruck ODYSSEY edition: The crew take a smash and grab job investigating missing people near a remote outpost, and discover a mad scientist conducting strange experiments but also offering great hospitality and food. Can the crew of the Wurst figure everything out before the more foolish of them (gunnie) end up as pigs?

Bad idea of the day, just how sure are you about this new god edition: In the summer before junior year, Fig and the Sig Figs record a music video for their new smash single. Watching it for the first time, Saint Kristen Applebees notices something in the video that noone else seems to be able to see: A familiar tabaxi, hanging out in the crowd watching the concert.

Bad idea of the day, that gum you like is going to come back in style edition: Fig at last discovers Porter's one flaw that makes him a truly intimidating barbarian with an unstoppable rage: Students putting chewed gum onto the bottom of their desks.

Bad idea of the day, ashes to ashes edition: Tired of Fig's chainsmoking cloves, Jawbone and Tracker stage an intervention to maybe at least talk her into some sort of rebellious vice that doesn't stink up the home of two werewolves with strong senses of smell at least

Bad idea of the day, my frog is real and so is magic edition: Adaine grows up without spellcasting ability at all until on the morning she starts at Aguefort, when on her way walking to school she runs across a frog who offers her magical powers she might be able to use to improve her life.

Bad Idea of the Day, You Wouldn't Steal a Car edition: Seeking to impress his father, Fabian gets into Solace's new age of piracy, selling illegal copies of movies, music and apps throughout Elmville. Will the lawsuits catch up to him in the end, or can his amass a horde of treasure suitable for a Seacaster?

Bad idea of the day, unfamiliar edition: At Some Point in the future, Jayhson feels a magical tug from afar and appears due to the whims of one of these 'humans' who has summoned a familiar. Can he kill this whizzered and get back to his family?

Bad idea of the day, I shot the Sheriff edition: Riz wakes up one fine morning in his office to discover Agent Angela Worrel came knocking in the night, and one of the traps his paranoid ass has set up for his office has killed her. Can he cover up this capital offense, or will Worrel finally succeed, posthumously, in getting at least one Bad Kid in jail long term?

Bad idea of the day, foreseeable problems edition: The Hangman gets impounded due to a series of unpaid parking tickets, leading Fabian to argue that the Hangman should count as a pet and not a vehicle. This results in him also getting tickets for having his dog off the leash.

Bad idea of the day, Heaven or Hell edition: Following an unfortunate but hopefully temporary death, Figueroth Faeth finds herself at the center of a dispute between the planes that threatens a war, as Hell wants its archdevil but Rock Heaven insists that they have a claim to everyone who has a rock album go platinum. Will this begin a true battle of the bands?

Bad idea of the day, I admit these are getting weirder edition: The bad kids wake up one morning in the midst of a campaign designed by just the worst kind of a DM, with railroaded sidequests, boring samey npcs, and combat every six feet. Can they figure out what's going on and escape back to Spyre before rocks fall and they all die?

Bad idea of the day, Lost Things and Misfit Toys edition: Irritated as hell at the blue fairy after ending up a puppet again, Pinocchio turns not to his new stepmother for power but instead someone else who dislikes the blue fairy, someone else who believes in the occasional misdirection, someone who is pretending to be the blue fairy's sister…. one "Gwendolyn Thistlehop".

Bad idea of the day, the WORST fusion edition: After she goes on a mission trip to parts unknown, all of the bad kids notice that Kristen is acting… odder than normal. This is because (burrow's end spoiler!) she's being piloted by chipmunks, of course.

[daydream-cement]

Lake Date

Brienne of Tarth x Miranda Hilmarson

Brienne and Miranda have been officially dating for three months and now it's time for their first Valentine's day <3

Authors Note: This was written in collaboration with @bri-sonat. THIS FLUFF IS OFF THE CHARTS

Narrowing her gaze at her girlfriend in the driver’s seat, Miranda shook her head at Brienne, inquiring once again about the plans she had for the evening, “Why won’t you just tell me, Bri? Where are we going? Don’t tell me we are going back into work for an extra shift on Valentine’s Day?” 

The knight didn’t take her eyes off the winding road in front of her to look at her passenger, the large number of trees around them making it difficult to make out any landmarks. “Because it’s a surprise. That’s why I won’t tell you.” Brienne prayed to the old Gods and the new that Miranda couldn’t see how nervous she was, or that she looked in the rearview mirror every fifteen seconds. “No, we’re not. That I can tell you.”

Rather than pester Brienne with any additional questions, Miranda stretched a hand to rest at the back of the knight’s neck, fingers playing with her hair as she spoke softly, “Well, whatever it is... I’m sure I’ll love it.” The constable turned her eyes out the passenger side window, absentmindedly continuing to play with Brienne’s hair as her mind reeled at the possibilities of what Brienne may have planned for their first Valentine’s Day together. 

Brienne’s fingers anxiously tapped the steering wheel as she tried her best to not let her mind fall into the deep abyss that was her doubts. “I really hope you will.” The possibility that Miranda would hate her plans was at the forefront of her mind, but she really hoped that her cliché date would be romantic. She had never done this before, but she hoped that it would be adequate enough. “Do keep in mind that I have never planned out a Valentine’s before… and this date idea may be really outdated, like, people could do this in my time. But I hope you’ll enjoy the thought I’ve put into it despite that… I really tried to come up with something original but I got so caught up in my head that I didn’t have time to plan out an intricate date, I’m sorry...”

“My sweet Bri-Bri... I haven’t been on a Valentine’s Day date where I haven’t planned it myself, so this is monumental for me. And have you ever paused to think of how your quote-unquote outdated-ness is one of my favorite things about you? You know how I adore the way your brain works...” Miranda pulled over her words, wondering if they would actually be comforting to the knight. Her head swiveled back to the knight, her final words spoken with a sweet smile, “I’m so excited to see what you have done as I really, uhm, like you and everything you do.” 

Taking a moment to think over Miranda’s words, Brienne’s finger movements stilled on the wheel, no longer nervously tapping. “I suppose I have not considered that… thank you.” The knight began to slow the car down; the road she was supposed to turn onto was coming closer with every passing second. “I really like you too.” Removing one of her hands from the steering wheel to place it on the shift stick to shift down a gear.

“Of course.” The constable gave a curt nod and turned her attention out the window once more, maintaining her teasing of Brienne’s hair and light scratching of the knight’s scalp, a purely selfish habit she developed to bring herself peace on long car rides. 

Brienne switched on the turn signal to turn left down a slight slope leading down to an empty parking lot, not many people out here at this time of day. “Close your eyes, please.” The knight really didn’t want Miranda to see where she was taking her, knowing it could possibly ruin the surprise before she had the chance to set it up.

“Oh, okay...” The constable shut her eyes, a smile growing on her face at the thought she knew was going into all of this, “Do you need me to help with anything?”

“No. Just keep your eyes closed until I tell you it’s okay to open them, please.” Brienne quickly parked the car and turned it off before pulling the parking brake. The knight turned her head to look at her girlfriend, to make sure her eyes were really closed and that there was no peeking.

“Yes, Lord Commander.” The constable giggled, bringing her hands to cover her face as well to prevent her curiosity from getting the best of her. 

Unbuckling her seatbelt, Brienne hummed before reaching back into the backseat to grab the items she had brought. “Stay here. I’ll be back. And no peeking.” The knight opened her door and closed it after her, swiftly setting everything up so she wouldn’t be away from Miranda longer than she needed to be.

Brienne technically ran back to the car when everything was done, needing to collect her girlfriend. The knight opened the passenger seat door and held out a hand for Miranda to grab onto so the Lord Commander could guide her to where she had built up their date spot. “Your carriage awaits, M’Lady.”

Holding back a smile by biting her lip and dropping her hands to her lap, Miranda tilted her head up towards the voice of her knight, eyes still squeezed shut. The constable raised her hand up, moving it about to find Brienne’s, latching onto her girlfriend’s hand when she made contact, “Brienne, I better not trip and fall because my eyes are closed. I think we both know I can easily trip with my eyes open.” 

The knight chuckled slightly at the constable’s words, she was aware of how clumsy her girlfriend could be. “I wouldn’t dare let you trip. Trust me.” Brienne took a small step back so she could signal Miranda to get out of the car and give her the room to do so, her hand still firmly holding the constable’s.

Ducking out of the passenger seat, Miranda’s one hand glided along the top of the car door, searching for Brienne, who stood nearby for additional stability, “Okay, I’m ready. Take me on a date, honey.” 

Brienne closed the passenger door and quickly locked the car before she started to lead Miranda away to the little spot she had found for them. Truth was, she had come out here a few days earlier to scope it out to find the perfect place, working as a probationary constable had definitely made the knight more prepared than usual. “Watch your step here. There’s a small curb to step over a few meters in front of you.”

“Oh, Brienne of Tarth... The things I am willing to do for you.” Miranda whined in anticipation, knowing if there was a way to be clumsy, she would find it. Her hand had Brienne’s in a vice grip, not wanting to let go for any reason and her opposite hand reached across her body, holding onto Brienne’s bicep as an additional anchor. With cautious steps, the constable searched for the curb with her foot, stepping over the object when the toe of her shoe came in contact with the curb. 

“Marvelous…” Brienne mumbled as Miranda stepped over the obstacle, she led the constable down onto a grass plain, walking towards a large tree that would provide them with the shade needed on an Australian February day. “We’re almost there. Just a few more steps, darling…”

Giddy laughter rose up through Miranda as the anticipation was becoming almost too much to handle. She shook Brienne lightly, needing the other woman to know how excited she was about the entire premise of this date, “Oh, I’m so excited. I can’t believe you have something planned out like this...” After a few additional steps, Miranda felt Brienne stop and the constable went still, awaiting further instructions. 

“You can open your eyes now,” Brienne almost whispered, really wanting Miranda to like her surprise. She had worked her ass off in the kitchen to cook all the things she knew her girlfriend liked, she had also taken advantage of her partner’s best friend being her not-so-new boss.

Hands still clinging to Brienne, Miranda finally opened her eyes, now greeted with the sight of a picnic spread out under a large red river gum tree, whose branches dipped low as if they were reaching out towards the water’s edge. The constable looked to Brienne, to the picnic, and back again, “What is all of this? You- You planned a whole picnic for me?” Never able to help when she became emotional, Miranda felt her eyes fill with tears, the Aussie biting her lip and leaning her head against Brienne’s shoulder as an attempt to stifle her crying. 

The knight took a seat on the blanket she had laid out, still holding the constable’s hand as she gently tugged it as an indicator for her to take a seat next to her. “I’d do anything for you. That includes interrogating our superior for some of your favorite meals and then spending many minutes in the kitchen making them for you. I also made some dessert.”

Wiping the tears from her eyes, the constable took her place near the knight, eyes examining the picnic spread before her, shaking her head the whole while. Miranda’s blue eyes met Brienne’s, more tears threatening to spill as she spoke, “No one... has ever done something like this for me before. Brienne... I- I-” Every aspect of dating Brienne had been absolute bliss for Miranda and from past experience, the constable had been waiting for ‘the other shoe to drop,’ where she figured out something terrible about her relationship. This was just an additional instance where Miranda knew Brienne was the only person for her, “You are just so- Thank you, Bri... It’s perfect.” 

“It’s my pleasure, and I’m so gleeful you like it.” Brienne smiled at Miranda before opening the picnic basket and pulling out a Tupperware box. She took off the lid before reaching it toward the constable, offering the food for the Aussie to take. “Don’t shed any tears, my love. Have some spring rolls instead, they’re homemade.”

Miranda went quiet, watching the knight’s every move. There was no one else in the world the Aussie could imagine spending a Valentine’s Day with for the rest of her life. Years ago, Miranda thought she was in love, but when she was with Brienne, she knew her feelings for her ex-boss could never compare to what she felt for the knight. No one had ever supplied her with the feelings of endless love, admiration, and safety. Without thinking, Miranda began to speak, stopping herself from finishing the sentence when her mind caught up to the drastic statement she was about to make, “Brienne, I-'' She couldn’t tell the knight those dreaded three words. At least, not yet. 

Putting the box with the rolls down onto the blanket, Brienne moved to take the rest of the things out of the basket but snapped her head up when Miranda started speaking. “Yes?” The knight pulled a thermos with iced tea out of the container and poured some for her girlfriend into a cup before offering it to her.

“I- I-” Miranda knew she was fumbling terribly, the sight of all her girlfriend’s planning making the frightful amount of emotions she felt worsen all at once, “I just- I really like you is all...” 

“I like you too, Mir…” Brienne responded before nodding down to the spring rolls. “Now eat. I spent a lot of time on those you know. As well as this iced tea.” The knight motioned to the cup in her hand that she was holding out for the constable to take. Her tone was teasing, she was desperate for her girlfriend to taste what she had made especially for her, but she didn’t want to sound like it, so she settled for playfulness instead.

“Thank you.” The constable gratefully took the cup and pulled a spring roll from the container, pushing any more thoughts of love to the back of her mind. As she continued trying different foods and sipping on her tea, the Aussie’s jovial nature resurfaced as she began to tease Brienne, “Since when do you know how to cook?” 

Brienne released a small laugh, knowing that this was new information to Miranda. She had never brought it up, and this was the first time the knight had ever cooked for her girlfriend. “I cooked a lot back on my travels but there weren’t many meals to make out in the wild. The best you could get in terms of a cooked meal was some bread, or a kidney pot pie. Supply was what you made or collected yourself. If you wanted meat, you had to go hunt for it yourself, or at least I had, and et cetera. Then when I permanently moved here and saw all the new cooking techniques, all the recipes, a stove, an oven? I got so intrigued, so I had to indulge and invest in the knowledge. So I have used all of my free time to master the ‘art of cooking.’ Has my time been well spent?”

“You are incredibly talented. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be a chef over a constable?” Miranda teased before taking another bite of her spring roll, deliriously happy to be eating some of her favorite foods while sitting in such a beautiful place with a beautiful person, “Or maybe you could do both, my fair knight?” 

“Heh, no. I’d rather it be a thing on the side. I’d much rather have a job where I get to help people, and serve justice, just like I had back in Westeros.” Brienne smiled at her girlfriend before taking a spring roll herself. “I could do both. I could definitely do both.”

Finishing with the spring roll in her hand, Miranda paused for a moment to chew and swallow, taking another drink of her tea. The constable cradled the empty cup in her hands, settling them in her lap, “Perhaps you can just be my personal chef then? The pay is good and so are the benefits.” 

Taking a bite from her roll, Brienne nodded as she finished chewing. “Whatever it is my Lady wishes, I shall be. I’ll cook for you whenever you wish. Even without the pay and benefits.”

“The pay and benefits aren’t that great anyway. It’s just my endless love and adoration with the occasional kiss, but I can hold off if you prefer.” Miranda was already giggling wildly at her own joke, reaching into a nearby container for more food. Gazing up to Brienne, the constable took a bite, her usual smile present as she gave the knight a wink. 

Brienne lifted her cup to her lips, looking at her girlfriend over the rim of it as she hid the smile Miranda’s wink had caused by taking a quick sip. “You drive a hard bargain, those are some benefits. I am inclined to accept them. I think it’s only fair for the work I’ll put in.”

The two women continued their meal, teasing and chatting as they ate, primarily soaking up the presence of the other and enjoying a bit of quality time. As the sun set over the pond, Miranda felt compelled to spend some time on the dock before darkness fell upon their date, “Let’s go look at the water, hon!” Jumping up from her place on the blanket, Miranda held her hands out to the knight, inviting her to take them to help her girlfriend up. 

“Sure.” The knight smiled up at her girlfriend before taking hold of her outreached hands. That’s when Brienne remembered there was still one more thing to eat, and she thought it would be perfect to consume, as they consumed the sunset with their eyes. “Would you like to have your dessert as we do? I think it could be nice…”

The constable mulled over the question in her mind, not quite ready to relinquish her grip on Brienne’s hands, “Do you mean actual dessert or are you being all cute and asking me for a kiss? You know I appreciate both.” She asked this question knowing full well, it was rare for the knight to ask her for physical intimacy like a kiss.

“I mean actual dessert. It’s just some strawberries dipped in white and milk chocolate… nothing special. Though I really like that other option you suggested.” Brienne felt shy all of a sudden, perhaps it was the setting or the idea of kissing Miranda in such a romantic spot on such a romantic day. Whichever one it was, the knight couldn’t deny the way her voice seemed to quiet down, almost shrinking.

“Both options sound wonderful. Which would you like first? It is your Valentine’s Day too, after all…” Miranda used her grip on the knight’s hands as leverage, pulling the woman closer, bringing the knight’s arms around herself, and holding Brienne’s hands tightly in her own behind her back. More often than not, Miranda preferred not to make the knight more nervous than necessary, but today she was enjoying the power she had over the Lord Commander for a few moments.

“The kiss, please,” Brienne whispered, head subconsciously leaning in so she could ghost Miranda’s lips with her own.

“Good choice.” The words came out quickly, only serving a seconds-long barrier from the women’s lips being separated any longer. Her hands relinquished their grip on Brienne’s when their lips made contact, one winding its way around the knight’s neck to hold the woman close for a few seconds longer. When she parted the kiss, Miranda kept Brienne close, their foreheads and noses still touching.

“Thank you…” The knight kept her eyes shut, savoring every second that she could still feel the flavor of Miranda in her mouth. A mix of spring rolls, iced tea, and an assortment of other small snacks together with the ever-familiar taste of her girlfriend. The last time Brienne had been kissed like she just was, was the day she had made the decision to stay here. The time she had done the most uncommon thing of kissing the constable with such vigor that caught her off guard. Since then, it had only been the smallest pecks, but after being kissed like that, the Lord Commander realized that she really likes it and that she wants to be kissed again. “I also wish to state that I have a pavlova in my fridge at home if that would earn me another kiss equally as wonderful as the one you just gave me…”

Biting her bottom lip, Miranda shook her head, finding Brienne to be unbelievably wonderful, yet again. Her next kiss for Brienne was more intense than anticipated, her other hand extending to Brienne’s face, deepening the kiss further. The constable exhaled with a small groan when she parted their second kiss, “Oh, I love pavlova…”

The Lord Commander whined when the constable broke the kiss once again, but giggled when Miranda spoke. “I know. Robin told me. Baking was a new venture for me, but I think it went well… you’ll just have to taste it and see, if you wish to end the night at my apartment, that is.”

“We can have another slumber party and you can tell me more bedtime stories.” Miranda kept the offer lighthearted, retracting her hands from the knight, not wanting the knight to think she would ask for anything she wasn’t ready to give. The constable knew she would wait forever until Brienne was ready to move forward with their relationship’s intimacy, “Now we can watch a movie too!”

“Sounds perfect,” Brienne breathed before pressing a quick kiss against Miranda’s soft lips. “Would you like to watch the sunset now?”

The constable watched Brienne’s lips as she spoke, wishing deep down the kissing didn’t have to stop where it did. Her eyes flicked up to Brienne’s when she spoke, her tone soft yet excited, “I would love to.” 

[biracy]

abt your post abt bi women belonging in the wlw community just as much as lesbians : i was reading the replies and youre so right abt how ignorant people are abt what comphet really is. im a lesbian and like yea i think we would experience comphet in the most intense way since were not attracted to men in any level, but comphet isnt only abt that, its a symptom of the patriarchy forcing women to center men in their lives and hell even straight women experience comphet, let alone bi women. people just have thrown around the word comphet so much they dont even know the true meaning

I was actually gonna post abt this soon LMAO so yeah!! I think it's also a misunderstanding of what "heterosexuality" as a dominant social force is to say that lesbians who are not attracted to men can experience "comphet", but bisexual women who are attracted to men cannot experience it. "Heterosexuality" as it is defined by dominant social forces is not only "a relationship between a man and a woman" - it's almost always a relationship between a "masculine" man and a "feminine" woman, and quite often a relationship between a man and a woman that results in monogamous marriage and childbirth. When people write about comphet, they're not talking about how movies and TV and fairy tales and children's books and my parents and my teachers and my religion all came together and told me to want to fuck genderfucky bi guythings. There is a specific kind of man centered in the heterosexuality enforced onto women, and a specific kind of role that a woman is expected to take on in that heterosexuality. I think the idea that bi people (women especially) cannot experience "comphet" overlaps a lot with people who believe that all bisexual people have the capability to become "straight-passing" if they enter different-gender relationships, which is in and of itself based on, in my observances, the belief that "gay/lesbian culture" and "bisexual culture" are completely distinct and that bisexual people are in some way innately less capable of being gender-nonconforming (or as some Tumblr scholars will call it, "visibly queer"). Bisexual people often date each other, we're often trans and/or visibly gender-nonconforming, and that's not something that we can just turn off the minute we enter into a quote unquote "heterosexual relationship." I'm bisexual, I'm nonbinary and id as both a man and a woman (so I take part in all these "sapphic" conversations etc etc u know the drill), I'm weird and kinky and switchy, I'm polyamorous, right now I'm dating a cis butch bi girl and a trans + nonbinary pan guy. At this point in my life I have absolutely no interest in relationships with cishet men, I don't want to get monogamously married, I never want to have children. I have not performed heterosexuality any better than, idk, a "gold star lesbian" has, and I FEEL it, I'm given shit for it, every relative I have pressures me already about boyfriends and grandkids and whatever. I do think there are bisexual people sometimes who do conform more to Straight Society but a) I think there are an equal amount of gay guys and lesbians who conform to Straight Society tbqh and b) it doesn't cover the breadth of bisexual people who do exist and who do feel the pressure to conform to the mainstream, dominant social system of heterosexuality and who CANNOT conform to it any more than you, anon, probably can. So yeah TL;DR bi girls can definitely experience "comphet" lmao and people are probably gonna hate that I said that

[marshmallowprotection]

Hey Kait, do you think it would be overreacting if MC suddenly passed out at the hospital after the events of Saeran's AE? I just finished playing it and it caused me great amount of pain and suffering throughout the 4 days. And truth to be told, if I were in MC's position, I would probably fainted right then and there after all the fatigue have caught up to me... I don't have the best physical stamina and I just know the reason why my body were able to keep up is to ensure my own safety first. But then I would feel guilty because I don't think I'm contributing that much to even feel that exhausted compared to Jumin or the twins, for example. I don't know my thoughts are a bit jumbled now

GE Saeran wouldn't be surprised.

He understands that the situation has been difficult for everyone, and you have been putting on a brave face for him and everyone else. He could see underneath the mask you were putting up to try and take care of him and everyone else. He knew it was going to catch up to you eventually because he knows you just as well as you know him.

He doesn't like it when you push yourself like this, but he can't tell you how to live your life. He can be there for you through the misery and suffering, but he can't tell you to do anything you either don't want to do or aren't ready to do. If you can't rest in the middle of a tragedy, he knows there's not much he can say because he's not getting that much sleep, either. 

Of course, the only thing he doesn't like about this is that you worked yourself to the point of exhaustion where your body made you rest. He would rather you allow yourself the opportunity to lay down willingly instead of forcing yourself to keep moving no matter what. But this is one of those situations where there's not much you can do but scream. He understands why you handled it this way but that doesn't have to make him happy. 

Listen, you do not need to diminish your suffering in this situation because you are going through just as much stress as everyone else. Pain and Trauma are not a contest and you do not need to be in a position where you feel quote unquote worse, to experience your agony and hardship outwardly.

Pain is not a contest and you do not have to treat it like one. People are going through difficult situations all across the board, but just because your situation is different from another person's does not mean that you need to tell yourself that your pain is less and you do not deserve to feel it. 

People of all backgrounds can know what it feels like to suffer but if you beat yourself up to the point where you don't allow yourself to experience anything because “you don't have the right to experience it”, you’ll only hurt yourself. I give a firm example here. Jumin often talks about his privilege.

He is well aware of the status he has in life, and he likes to say that everything he's gone through that is far from okay, is not something he deserves the right to talk about because he has had way better opportunity in life than other people and that means he shouldn't complain or talk about his suffering.

It's good for him to understand that people go through difficult things and to empathize with their plight because they deserve a voice to share what they're going through. However, just because he was born into a situation with more privilege does not mean that he doesn't deserve to talk about his suffering. 

He diminishes his own suffering in the name of bringing light to what other people have gone through. He doesn't let himself talk about what he's experienced as somebody who was emotionally neglected his entire life and sexually harassed from a very young age. It hurts him in the long run because he doesn't have the opportunity to talk about what he's gone through to anyone.

It's great that he loves and cares about other people to the point where he wants them to be able to experience their feelings, but he shouldn't neglect his own feelings in that situation because he is just as entitled to what he's feeling.

You know, he's doing the same exact thing that you're trying to do to yourself in the after ending. He puts everything he's feeling on hold because he wants to be brave for everyone around him. The two of you seemingly have that in common, and it's definitely something you should talk about as friends. 

But, as far as Saeran goes?

He would be right at your side. They would make sure to put you in a bed next to him so you could probably get some rest, and any fluids you need since this means you might not have been taking care of yourself properly. He'll make sure to hold your hand and rest with you. You don't have to work yourself into the ground for his sake.

Please, allow yourself to cry and know that it's okay to feel that way. You were the one that taught him that his feelings were justified in every way imaginable and he deserved the opportunity to feel them instead of snuffing them down. It looks like you need to learn your own advice. 

[sinvulkt]

oh, are you at all like me? by acaciapines ( @acaciapines )

Once upon a time there was a girl and a demon.

The girl’s hair was the color of Dust, a gleaming gold, and with it shining in the wind she lifted her sword, and drove it straight into the heart of the demon that had tried to call her little village its own. The people loved her. They say her soul was a brilliant white dog, a guardian, large as an ox. He grappled with the monster. With his fur a light to drive it back.

And so time turned on. Technology improved. The people lived. A thousand years passed. A kingdom grew, the loyal mutt-souls of the common people protected by the noble lines of knights, bloodhounds and shepherds and retrievers. Happily ever after, right?

Tsht. Yeah. You know, they say only dogs get happy endings.

(A Nimona daemon AU: in which Ballister's daemon changes shape, impossibly, the night of the Queen's murder, and this is of some interest to Nimona.) Completed, 49k words.

*** ** * ** ***

Chap 4:

Her mother said, her voice hushed, Gloreth? Her father said, you told us you were Settled. The girl at her side stared at her parents, at her village, and finally last to her daemon, who was stomping a hoof on the ground, her tail flicking. Maybe there were many thoughts that ran through the girl’s head, maybe there was just one. The daemon wouldn’t know. But what the daemon did know was this: That the girl she had shared a life with closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she said, I am Settled. This is not my daemon. The daemon started. What are you— But the girl continued to speak. I have suspected for some time. I didn’t know how to say it. I was—worried. For what happened to my true daemon, my true soul. For this one has only convinced me to lie to you, my family, my neighbors. But it is not my daemon. And the girl walked right past the pitchforks, and was not stopped. [...] She knew very little, but she did know two things: She was a monster. And monsters were alone.

Chap 5:

You know, they say a dog saved this kingdom, centuries ago. It’s—dumb, really. That such a small, stupid thing could shape the course of history all the way until now. I really did try, you know. To be good. It’s just the harder I tried the more I realized that good and Nimona weren’t ever going to coexist, and I guess back then I just—didn’t want to die. So I chose Nimona, and figured I wouldn’t bother trying being good. Not if I would never fit it. I bet I know what’s right up there with the definition for good. A dog. It’s tiring. I guess that’s the word. That I could go for so long like this. And—I mean, for a bit, there? I really did want it all to…to end. To just. Give up. I could’ve given up a long time ago. I mean, I know that would’ve been the quote unquote good choice. You get to see the family trees of language, when you live like I do. You get to see how words start to mean other things. How soul becomes daemon becomes dog. It’s the only form I’ve ever taken that’s hurt me. Everything else, sure, maybe it gets a bit itchy, if I stick to it for too long, fits oversized, or too-small, but those are all problems I can solve. I roll into something new. But dog, well. I mean, that’s how it goes, isn’t it? When dog means good means you get to exist, and then there’s me. And that won’t ever be true for me. I don’t know. Maybe I’m still tired. It’s—kind of stupid, isn’t it? I mean, everyone else, they looked at a big shadowy beast of rage and despair and pain, and they called it a monster. But even that was better than… You can only cram yourself into a tiny box for so long before you have to burst out of it. Or you’re going to die there, and when you die, they’re only ever going to see what they wanted. I could’ve died, so long ago, like I was supposed to. Can you imagine it? What would that epithet even say? Not Nimona, that’s for sure. Maybe loyal daemon. Like loyal dog. Like never-changing. I guess some part of me figured—well, this way I’m going out on my own terms. I’ll die a monster, but…it’s not like I was ever going to be anything else. So I might as well be a monster. It’s closer to me than daemon or human could ever be, that’s for sure. It’s… I really thought I’d never see you again. I’m not sure I really believed it, when I first saw you on TV. I guess I wanted to, but you were—well, not what I was hoping for, that’s certain. You didn’t get it. I just wanted to be Nimona. It should be simple for everyone to be okay with that. Why should there only be two choices? Why only human, or daemon? Well, I say fuck those roles. I get to make my own choice.

[jiwonbe]

hello friends it is i, returning with an attempt at a second muse after i accidentally lost one kdjhfjkdhskhf. as always, please like this to plot as i ramble about him and add in some badly thought out wc LOL

ANYWAYS INTRODUCING ... ! yoon jiwon, born feb 3

(tw for parental + other death)

he was born in seoul but both of his parents died in a car accident on new year's while getting him a surprise

he was 6

he never learned what that surprise was

since his parents were both only children and he had no extended family that could be found/were willing to take him in, he was put into an orphanage with a ton of other children

contrary to popular belief, he didn't hate his time there. he still got to attend school and make friends with other kids

ofc there was the bullying that he had to deal with at school for being parentless but he had long accepted that as a fact of life and usually just ignored anything said like that

after being struck by tragedy so early on in his life, he sort of was a recluse and only stayed friends with kids who were his friends before the accident since he continued attending the same school after that

he was really close to a few boys at school who were good friends of his, and he had thought that they would finish elementary school and move onto middle school together

but one of his friends ended up passing away tragically, being in the wrong place at the wrong time

being subjected to so many losses in a row really took a toll on him and he became more closed off and only spoke when spoken to

during these times, he turned to music since it was something that couldn't be stolen from him. his christmas present that he had been given (before the fateful new year's day) was an ipod and he still has it despite it not really working well anymore but he can't bring himself to throw it out

when he was in middle school, he was (surprise!) adopted by a japanese/korean couple who had been scouting out a few different orphanages and had quote unquote 'thought he was perfect' etc etc he moves to japan before his first year of high school (in the spring so he has a few months to adjust and learn japanese)

he has a relatively good time in japan, though the language barrier was difficult and he literally has to learn as much japanese as possible before he goes to school in the fall

he ends up about a year behind (bc of language barrier issues) but still graduates high school (a year late) with good grades

it's then that he decides that maybe it's time to return to seoul so, instead of going to university right away, he gets a job and he works hard for a year and a half since his parents supported him in his return to korea and said they would match what he saved as long as he promised to call and visit often

so he moved back to seoul in the fall of 2023 (around chuseok) thinking that that would be a good time to come since everyone would be busy with festivities so he could settle in and wander around the neighbourhood

he gets a decent apartment to himself, his parents helping him with the deposit and he has a little veranda and even a living room despite living on his own

and he picks up guitar lessons now

his mother tongue feels a bit odd in his mouth nowadays, but his (adoptive) parents spoke both languages (his adoptive mother is korean) so he had enough practice though the last 5 years of his life was spent mostly speaking japanese but he's slowly getting used to it again

OKAY IF U READ ALL OF THAT I APPLAUD YOU (claps)

some wanted plots (even tho i'm bad at this and we should brainstorm if you want something Better Than This)

friends! ofc, he's mostly a loner but some general acquaintances would be nice

childhood friends??? maybe people who knew him before/during the Accident and wonder where he had disappeared to and why he had suddenly Reappeared like a ghost LMAO

also friends from japan! he lived in tokyo and lived in the akabane area

he works in a used bookstore in the sinchon area and can be found with his nose in a book most of the time though he Will chat with you if you ask him a question first

he doesn't seem like the type but he's somewhat up to date with kpop songs and will hum them under his breath sometimes while working if a song comes on shuffle

he has a youtube channel where he uploads covers but his face usually isn't in them, usually wearing a hat with a mask or the camera is fully angled away from him so maybe if you hear him singing one day and are Intrigued bc he sounds like a youtuber u know

also i like the idea of one of his audios accidentally going viral on tiktok but he has no idea bc he doesn't use tiktok LMAO

pls brainstorm with me i have no brain juice rn