#now? it has movement / it's shiny and it looks great!

[digitalgirls]

i rarely flat iron my hair, but when i do i feel incredible LMAO

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

[moviestarmartini]

en la ciudad de la furia. - franco colapinto x reader

me dejarás dormir al amanecer / entre tus piernas / sabrás ocultarme bien y desaparecer / entre la niebla.

summary: franco can't sleep before sunday's race. good thing his best friend is there to help him relax.

wc: 2.1k

warnings: sentences in spanish during conversations, fwb!franco, la ciudad de la furia es baku in this case rip, nsfw (18+), praise, just one (1) degrading word, p in v, unprotected sex (don't. that is a threat.), creampie, happy ending.

A/N: not enough franco fics so i had to pull a thanos and do it myself. enjoy lovelies and shoutout a mi AMIGA PERSONAL @notsomuchtosay for helping me pick the song

now playing... en la cuidad de la furia by soda stereo

Azul.

A sky Franco couldn’t normally look up to even if he tried, settled in different hues of royal blue, similar to the ones in the car he started driving around two weeks ago. The shiny buildings of the city now stood enveloped in a darker hue, the fact it was somewhere close five AM could attribute to that. 

“Hey,” Your hoarse voice caught him off guard. 

Your relationship was something neither of you had sat down to ponder about or discuss. Best friends was where you left it around a year ago. There had been no discussions after the first time you slept together, understanding well enough you wanted to continue with the arrangement… acting as close friends and satiating the thirst that only seemed to grow with time. 

“Nervous?” You asked quietly, walking up to his side and hugging him, your hand pushing his head gently to rest against your midriff. 

“Yeah.” He spoke, his voice coming out deeper than he would’ve thought; he slept for a few hours before sitting by the balcony window, pondering. The mental turmoil swallowed him enough to process the voice inside his head as one from his ownership, speaking into existence the anxious thoughts electrifying every nerve in his body. 

“You did amazing at qualifying, I’m sure the race will be nothing short of great.” Though sloppy, his movements were sly, the arm making your knee joints to fold positioned you in his lap. 

“I hope so.” Franco could only find to respond, not wanting to exhaust you as he did with himself with all the thoughts. He could now formulate your voice against the interim, making him notice how utterly stupid he sounded. 

It would be so much worse if he actually said it out loud. 

“The city looks so beautiful like this.” You commented, turning your head to look where you found him staring. 

“Hermosa estás vos,” Franco replied without missing a beat, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The laugh that bubbled out of your stomach was the reason he went against your orders to stop flirting with you. 

“Baboso.” Instead of shoving him away as usual, you nestled closer to his bare chest, your body covered by just a tank and your underwear. You were still warm from your place under the thick duvet, prompting him to pull you even closer, temporarily promoting you from his friend with benefit to his personal heater. 

The two of you stayed in comfortable silence, the sight of the city sparkling was mesmerizing. You could feel your eyes starting to flutter close, up until you heard him let out a fretful sigh.

“What is it?” You turned back to him. 

“Nothing,” He insisted, but the way his eyes shifted to the side told you otherwise. 

You shifted in his lap, placing a leg on each side in order to turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely. 

“Don’t overthink it.” You insisted, getting another big sigh out of him.

“I’m not,” Yet again his eyes couldn’t stay on yours. From the corner of his eye he could identify the way you looked at him, prodding him for an answer. 

“Es… difícil, ¿sabés? Me ha ido tan bien que no me lo creo y me da miedo cagarla.” It felt a pressure had been lifted off his chest, but the weight of an entire country still rested on his back. 

“Fear is normal,” You started, brushing the light curls away from his forehead. “Todo esto no es ni será fácil, Fran. Lo importante es que estás aquí cumpliendo el sueño tuyo y de muchos. And you’ve got an amazing support system.” The last part came out a bit cheeky, enough to squeeze a genuine laugh out of him, the type that made your stomach tickle.  

By the way he sunk into the chair and embraced you, told everything you needed to know. The sigh he left out was one of relief, contempt. You thought everything was going to be more than alright, and in your mind, you could hear the bed chanting your names again. 

”Honestly I’m still a bit tense,” He spoke up, making you pull away from the place you’d made a home in the crook of his neck.

You found his eyes sparkling with mischief, your replying with confusion, brows softly furrowed adding onto the non-verbal conversation. 

“I think I need a little something to relax,” His fingers caressing your upper thigh made your breath hitch, neither brave enough to break eye contact as they ventured further into the supple skin, the knuckle pressed against the thin cotton provoked a pool of saliva to be roughly swallowed down your throat. 

There was nothing needing to be said. 

What usually infuriated you— how he could talk for hours, but rarely about things that truly mattered— turned into one of your favorite things the second that switch flipped from friends to the benefits side of it. 

The arms loosely around his neck drew closer to attract his lips into yours, and he fell right into that trap. Even with morning breath, he found the taste of your mouth to be so sweet, his fingers tracing their way to the plush skin he liked holding onto a little too much. 

“You can’t expect me to sit still when you’re wearing those panties.” His voice causes goosebumps to form on the wake of his fingers kneading the curve of your ass, the roughness gave you the idea to take initiative and start grinding your hips, cohering a groan out of his lips soon after. 

“Sigue así,” He praised, hot breath against your neck before he started tracing the same kisses he deposited just hours earlier. 

He knew you too well, he could squeeze out moans with just a kiss or a swift touch. But it only motivated you to shift your hips faster, finding relief in grinding against the hard bulge covered by his boxers. 

“Seguro estás toda mojadita ya,” A hand clasped on your jaw, and you knew he wanted a verbal answer. 

“Y-yeah,” You circled your hips, making him throw his head back. You were both so lost in it, he was fumbling around to remove both the items that were a bit too unnecessary. 

Until the chair cracked under you. 

You stared at each other in a panic before bursting out in laughter, not taking the distraction— or warning— as a turn off. He lightly patted your ass, signaling you to get up. 

You took the hint, taking a few slow steps before your body requested you to stretch, a yawn following after. You felt his eyes on you, expecting it to be some non-innocent ogling, until you were swept off your feet and landed on the bed with him on your back. 

“Idiota!” You cackled once you pulled your face away from the mattress, your insult going right over his head from his laughter echoing in the walls of the shared hotel room. 

You turned to look at him, any anger you could’ve withheld disappearing in an instant. If you could, you would wipe out ten cars off the grid so he could be in the points and enjoy more time of his elation. 

“¿Qué pensás?” Franco interrupted you not even a minute later, climbing further onto the bed, kissing your bare shoulder. He toyed with the hem of the tank, and you quickly pulled it over your head. 

To the royal blue was added a gradient to transition into cyan, and you guessed it was nearing six AM, and the sun was preparing its triumphant return with the addition of yellow into the sky. 

“I would do anything to hear your laugh every day.” You admitted truthfully, reaching back to kiss him. 

There was something different about this kiss compared to the ones you shared before. It was slow, careful. It said things you didn’t even want to believe until they materialized into words. 

“You’re the reason for it ninety percent of the time.” He placed more kisses on your shoulder, tracing them down your spine and right back up. 

“You don’t mean it.” You could admit freely for the first time. You knew there had to be more to it. There had to be someone else to it. 

In another element of surprise, Franco flipped you to lay on your back; he usually liked intimacy with you laying on your stomach, the appeal of seeing your ass bounce against his own body overtook every other request either of you might have. 

You watched as he climbed on top of you, pulling you into another of those kisses, making your knees weak. 

“You know you gave me luck today, right?” He whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss on the shell, holding you close to his chest. 

”It’s nothing,” You laugh, watching how his expression dropped ever so slightly at your refusal to accept his advances. “That’s what friends do, right?” 

There wasn’t even time for you to process that, a rough make out session ensued, and he fumbled around to remove his only item of clothing— his underwear. You followed his lead eagerly, thinking all was forgotten and it was yet another thing to be chucked in the pile of things he wouldn’t discuss upfront. 

You let your body do the talking, leaning into his touch, moans leaving your lips with every stimulating touch to that already swollen nub due to your arousal. His hands guided your legs to wrap around his waist, placing them at a perfect angle, one you would find to enjoy when his length slid in easily. 

“Relaxed now?” You sassed, panting before he would start thrusting. Each slow stroke was driving you insane, nails digging into his back, moans filling the room lacking the background noise of an active city. 

“Fran, fran.” You moaned, patting him on the shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re not saying anything.” 

“Vos sos mía, ¿entendés?” A hand cupped your jaw, your eyes meeting his. “Friends don’t stare into each other’s eyes while they fuck; you’re mine.” 

The correction was rather harsh, he had to be self aware and admit so. Or he believed until he saw a smile rise to your lips, the bottom one tucking between the pearly whites when your moans became more high pitched from the speed. 

You now understood the changes; the change of position, the change in how much passion oozed his lips against yours. It had taken him a while, considering you were clear about your feelings about a month or so of the arrangement. 

“¿Por qué sonríes, eh putita?” He degraded, only making the corners of your smile rise further up your cheeks, moans still leaving from the back of your throat. 

By his frantic moments you could deduce he wasn’t going to last long, but neither would you. The last few days had been exhausting in different aspects, your sexual activity included. 

His face looked stunning under the dim light that shone from the window, highlighting each freckle your fingers could trace. You pulled him into a kiss, your lips doing the talking now. 

He pulled back, an expression of mixed up confusion and hope. You pulled him down, brushing your nose against his before creating enough space to look into each other’s eyes. 

“Te amo. Por ti voy hasta la Antártida a verte correr.” 

The sudden change in pace and attention to detail had you gasping, your mind letting go of the preoccupation of his lack of a verbal answer. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, a hand sneaking down to toy with your clit. 

Your nails dug into his bicep, eyes falling shut from the pleasure. 

“Así, así.” He encouraged you when he felt the warmth enveloping deliciously tighten around him. 

A chant of his name coming straight to heaven— in his books— filled the room, letting you ride out your orgasm before letting your leg back on its original place by his hips, leaning down in the same way you had pulled him just moments ago. 

“Yo también te amo. Por vos corro hasta en la Antártida.” You were back in your right mind to understand him completely, the way you gave him a sloppy kiss proved it.

The revelating feeling seemed to be enough to push him off the edge, panting I love yous and other praises before he collapsed on top of you. 

You kissed his shoulder gently, brushing his hair with a soothing intent. 

“Better?” You questioned after a little while and he replied with obnoxious loud snoring, clearly faked. 

Hopefully in the morning you would actually get to talk about this. But now, you were more than fine to get a kiss on the forehead and have the blinds drawn shut to continue your slumber snuggled up to him. 

[xeeljii]

MORNING GLORY

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

Summary: Soft morning sex, he just looks so easy to spoil. Continuation of this but can be read as stand alone. 

Word count: 3.4k

CW: 18+, f! reader, no specific body descriptions, established relationship. 

The light of the morning sun is soft against you cheeks, you wake up with his breath on the back of your neck, his lips pressed on your pulse, you can feel the soft exhale of his sleepy snores, and the dampness of the drool on your skin too, he has you caged between his strong arms like you will run away. You turn softly in his embrace not to wake him but Joost is a heavy sleeper so there is no real problem there. In his arms you feel secure and warm in a way that reaches deep in your heart and makes you want to stay like this forever. He looks so pretty, the golden highlights of his hair messily framing the beautiful ridges of his face, you reach a gentle fingertip to trace the skin on his cheekbones, at times it feels unfair to have him all to yourself like this, in ways no one else gets to see, like hiding a great wonder of the world behind closed door, but you also like that, how he is only yours.

Your limbs are tangled beneath the thick comforter you feel his hardness press at your thigh that he has trapped between his legs. You want to let him sleep peacefully forever, he deserves it, he works so hard, travels so much, always to come back home to you, a home he has made for himself in your arms, but the heat his body exudes is too delicious to let this pass up. The instant gratification outweighs your wish to let him rest and you start pressing open mouthed kisses along his jaw, softly but urgently, waking him slowly from his slumber. You kiss insistently against his lips before he starts opening his eyes. “Well good morning to you too” Joost says rubbing his face, he looks so young like this, it sends a pang of nostalgia to your heart for a version of him you have never met and yet still love so much. You kiss him between words as he chuckles beneath you.

“Hi” you reply simply, breathless.

Now awake you have him ready to go under you, you throw a leg over this thighs sitting right above his cock, you look down at him smiling wide ear to ear, you feel giddy like your mind is already miles ahead of you and your body following blindly in the rehearsed movements you know so well that never fail to have him moaning under you.

You take him in your hands, the tip of his dick an angry shade of red, dripping already, he is so needy at this time of day, but he knows to let you have your time, you enjoy the process and the reward is all the sweeter.

“You are so beautiful” Your voice goes straight to his dick, it kicks on your palms and you start moving softly almost nothing.

The skin there is so velvety soft you want to spoil him to no end. Your thumb applies delicious pressure on the underside of his dick following the thick vein that has him melting under you, you feel yourself dampen but that will come later. You like to play and he lets you. You start stroking him with both hands, not enough grip to get him where he wants, he is thicker than most, an addicting stretch you get to enjoy and in moments like this you just like to admire him. The familiar weight of his length in your hands feels so thrilling he emanates warm normally, you love it on winter, bear it on summer and in moments like this it feels like it burns at your skin like coal but you could never leave him hanging. You tighten your hold on him, swipe your thumb against his slit and he moans instantly his pretty lips falling open, pink and shiny, his hips buckle against your hands without him meaning to.

“Easy there” You say as you move closer to his dick, your damp pussy lips barely above his length, he can feel the heat coming off you.

“Sorry” he mutters sheepishly. His hands are tangled in the sheets holding tightly keeping himself in place for you.

“Good boy” You purr on top of him, he makes a strangled sounds between a whimper and a moan, you could feel bad about how hard he is trying for you if only having him like this painfully needy didn’t make you feel at top of the world.

You use his precum to move your hands easier along his shaft, twisting your hand in a swift movement when you reach the tip, quickly working him up into a feverish pleasure.

“Fuck schat” His hands fly to your tights like he is holding for dear life like and his body will float away any second, his fingers dig into the fat of your legs desperate to have you close

You keep your ministrations going hypnotized by the way his chest raises and falls rapidly, his face becoming redder and his breath more labored, he is close you can feel him twitching against your palm. You smile to yourself and then stop moving altogether, your hand at the base of his cock grips him tightly to stop him from cumming. He opens his eyes mouth agape, confused look on his face and oh so cute. Your pussy is throbbing just at the sight alone.

“Not yet, let me have fun” You smile devilish down at him. He is at your mercy as always, not just now but on everything, you pull the leash and he follows happily.

An exasperated breath leaves Joost's mouth but you don’t let him dwell on it too much. You move quickly down his body making room for yourself between his spread legs, he seems shocked too lost to understand what you are doing until he gets it. Your soft breath against the sensitive skin of his tip you hold him on your hand gently easing the grip, with your other hand you, you push strands of hair behind your ear, you know he enjoys a show. He has never loved anyone this much, his heart skips a beat when you smile up at him from between his legs, a playful glint in your eyes, you lick your lips in preparation. He raises to his elbows, he has to watch, he wants to commit every second to memory. You close your eyes as you lick on his tip, his taste familiar on your tongue you suck sweetly at it, he throws his head back trying so hard not to buck his hips into your mouth.

“Liefde…” he whimpers not asking for anything really, it just feels so heavy in his heart he has to let his love out in little sounds.

You take more of his length on your mouth. The weight of his arousal heavy on your tongue, you hum against him sending waves of pleasure to his spine, his hands are holding as gently as he can at the back of your hair, fingers tangling between the strands of it. His breathing is strained, you feel him huffing from his nose, his thighs tremble slightly his iron will the only thing holding him back from pushing your head down and chocking you on his dick. You wouldn’t mind it, but he is sometimes gentle to a point of frustration, you can work on that another time. You work your mouth on as much of him as you can take, feeling his tip poke against the back of your throat and the soft hair of his happy trail against the tip of your nose, you work the rest of his length with your hand, the mixture of spit and precum making dirty sounds that could make you blush if you weren’t so far gone. You enjoy having him like this, his weight on your tongue feels relaxing, the closeness makes your heart swell, you wonder if he would let you cock warm him in your mouth, if he would even have the patience for it before he starts whining.

You pull away with a pop of your lips looking up through half lidded eyes, the top of his cheeks are such a sweet shade of pink you feel if you bit him he would taste like strawberries on your tongue, you want to eat him whole. You raise to your knees again moving up the length of his body, never stoping your hand on his dicks, softly stroking more to keep him warm than to help him reach his peak, you still want to enjoy this longer. As your core rests a breath away from his tip, he reaches his hands to your body pulling you toward him to kiss your lips hungrily, bring him back to earth a little, remind him how to breath. Holding him in your palm you start grinding his cock against your weeping cunt, just to feel him close, small gasps of heavy breath leaving your mouth, you keep going no intention of pushing him inside your core, just toying with him. The hot tip of his dick keep catching on your clit making you moan in ecstasy, he knows you are prolonging his delicious suffering with no ending on sight but so worked up he can barely think to protest, his mouth all but turned useless. His dick is heavy and so hard it could almost hurt if only the sweet wetness of your pussy wasn’t soothing him as you move deliciously slow up and down his shaft without taking him in.

“You are evil” he says throwing his head back almost in disbelief, wide smile painted on his face.

You giggle on top of him grinding yourself harder with more weight against his hot member to make him tremble, he kneads at your thighs gentle but hard and you feel yourself soften at the sight of his pretty face, maybe you have tortured him too much already.

Joost's hands travel from your hips to your waist massaging the softens beneath them, holding you close and letting his fingertips melt into your flesh. He continues to explore your soft skin, he wants to count the little beauty marks, scars, pocks everything about you is so interesting to him. His left hand stays holding you in place while his right wonders off over your soft belly, up your chest, he feels the wild beating of your heart through his palm, confirmation that he is not the only one close to the peak, the knowledge that you enjoy him so much that you get off just by touching him alone makes his heart expand in adoration, he could gift you the world and it wouldn’t be enough. He grabs gently onto your breast kneading softly, moving his hands deftly pawing at the sensitive skin of your mounds, your nipple perks up under his heat, his gaze not leaving your face, moans and whimpers of his name escaping your wet lips more often. He feels you falling apart at the seams on his lap, he grabs more greedily at you chest with both hands now, the delicious weight of you on his palms, the soft skin between his knuckles as he plays tenderly with you, the fat of your boobs spilling between his digits.

“Joost” you let a high pitched whimper escape. He toys with the perked nubs, pulling softly and twisting gently, seeing you pull away and chase the contact at the same time, you are dripping all over his length.

“If you keep going any longer I’m gonna cum” He says not as a warning but matter of factly, to see what you wanna do next, eager to dance to the beat of your drum.

You nod as you lift your hips, it would be such a waste to not have him cum inside you. You play with his dick a little more letting his tip collect the wetness between your folds before pushing him inside you. His hands leave your breasts and in an instant go to your hips to help hold you up, you take it slow the stretch so familiar but still a challenge, you try to drop your hips quickly, you have lost all your patience, you want him now.

“Easy there” He tuts, throwing your own words from earlier back at you, he thinks he is so funny. He pulls you off his cock when you wince at the sensation of the too forceful stretch.

“I know you can take it, just slow down liefje.”

Inch by inch, painfully slow guided by the strong hold of his big hands on your hips and ass, you finally bottom out. You both sigh at the same time into each others mouths and fall into shared laughter. You start lifting your hips up and letting them drop, building a rhythm that has you panting like you are in heat. Your hands move to his face holding his cheeks softly so you can see when he falls apart, he chases your touch as covertly as possible blinking slowly up at you, mouth slightly open, eyes locked on each other, he is fully awake but with your hands gently holding his face like he is made of glass he feels he could fall into slumber at any second. You kiss his lips gently feel his breath on your mouth moaning into you.

“You feel so good” He mumbles closing his eyes chasing your lips again.

“More” He pleads, opens his eyes slowly to look at you, you can never deny him even if you wanted to, he is so easy to spoil like this.

You start moving faster, harder, feel him deep in your stomach, groaning together in perfect harmony, wide eyes looking for each other, fighting hard not to shut in pleasure. Your hands move to find hold on his wide shoulders, littered with little freckles, with this new grip you can ride him harder. He is so close, you can feel him twitching inside you, his hands grab firmly at your waist pulling your closer, his head between your breast, he starts placing open mouthed kisses anywhere he can reach, sucking softly on the skin at the valley of your breast, he searches blindly for your nipples, with his lips finally finds one sucking greedily in his mouth as much of your tit as he can get. It was easy to tell what parts of you he enjoyed the most but always so funny to see how desperate he would get. You feel the urgent need to give him everything he wants so you push yourself closer to give him better access, he moans with your soft flesh in his mouth, can’t help himself and bites down as gently as he can in his frantic state.

“Shit Joost” you whimper, it is gonna leave a mark, he doesn’t look up he just starts licking over the now red skin apologetic, not regretting anything.

“I am not gonna last much longer” He mumbles right next to your perked nipple feeling his lips move faintly against the sensitive skin sends shivers up your spine, you hold onto the golden locks of his nape.

“Yeah me neither” You say breathless but smile back at him softly caressing his cheek with your knuckles.

You hold it together so well, you seem so calm even at moments like this, talking him through it, guiding him and never once letting go of his hand, he thinks that is what he likes the most about you, always a constant in his life no matter what changes, you are the lighthouse he will always look for to take him home. He is intoxicated on love, doesn’t know where he stands, the pleasure fried every last one of his nerves and yet when he feels the familiar weight of your body on his, he feels more alive than ever. His arms snake around your torso moving you easily like you are weightless in his embrace, at times like this you remember the difference in strength, he is using you like a doll to get off it is exhilarating. You hold his head against your chest as he continues making love bites bloom on your boobs, he feels the beating of your heart on his skin. You feel yourself start to unravel, your cunt start tightening with a familiar electricity sending slow sparkles that will soon erupt.

“Cum inside me Joost, inside please” You can barely finish the sentence the words transforming into strangled sound as you reach your climax, you feel your cunt start to convulse around him, making a mess on his cock your release soaking both of you, you feel yourself clench wildly.

“Oh shit baby” He pulls you impossibly close, his hands fly to your ass as if he could get any deeper, you feel his length twitch violently inside of your spent cunt, with a deep thrust his hips meeting yours he reaches his orgasm, ropes of his release painting deep in your insides, you feel him thrust weakly as he rides his high.

“Baby, baby, Y/N, Y/N…” like a secret prayer he just keeps chanting your name again and again, he whispers it against the glistening skin of your chest while you cradle his head in your hands still so close to your heart while you both try to catch your breath.

You wanna stay like this forever, but the sticky mess between your thighs will drive you insane and if you let Joost stay like this any longer he will fall asleep again dragging you down with him still inside you, not like it hasn’t happened before. You pull at the hair on his nape to get his attention.

“We have to shower” He hums in acknowledgment making a super human effort to pull his head from your chest, where he feels so at home, so safe under the sweet rhythm of your heart beat, he looks up languidly placating a yawn as he places a soft kiss on your sternum.

He nods before he starts speaking again “I like this position a lot, you know because your boobs-”.

You cut him off before he can continue. “Yeah, I got it, didn’t need the explanation. Thanks” You say on fake annoyance trying to hide the furious blush on your cheeks, you lift your hips off him with a wince, he lets you use his arms as support while you move, then gets up from the bed and pulls you up after him.

“I’m just saying yeah” He holds you hands to guide you to the bathroom on your shaky legs.

“You always say communication is good for couples” He adds then looks down at you, you roll your eyes at him.

He opens the door to the bathroom and turns around placing a kiss on the top of your head before he turns the shower on. Then after making sure the water is warm enough to your liking, which he personally feels like is being boiled alive, he pulls you under the shower head.

“Got it. Then I think you have a very pretty dick” You say hoping to have him blushing and end this, but no luck.

“See! This is already bringing us closer I can tell” He beams at you proud of himself.

You turn around facing your back to him and he starts pushing shampoo unto your scalp and softly massaging.

“Well I think your pussy is-”

“Okay I am putting a pin in this conversation, it is too early for this” You turn around and kiss him to shut him up, he knows it, but he is just happy to be kissed and smiles against your lips. Day in day out like this with you by his side, there is no greater happiness than have you in his arms, to sleep in your embrace and wake up to your lips, he wishes every day could start just like this forever.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚ AN: Streets are saying he is a boobs guy, you can tell how that influenced me right at the end lmao anyways again sorry for any mistakes English is not my first langue <3 And thank u for the comments, asks & dms they make me wanna write more :D 

[prttykittes]

haiii hello kitty<3 i hope chu are having a great day ! i would like to request something that has daddy kink with any of the bsd men hehe //// tysm luv 🌷

ヽ⁠(⁠*ﾟ⁠ｰﾟ⁠*⁠)⁠ﾉ — awh! Hello <3 here's your request! Here are three characters and sorry if it isn't good! (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡ — no problem luv ! (⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠)

๑ Dazai, Fukuzawa, Chuuya x GN!Reader [you/your]

— Synopsis:: While having sex with your loved, you slip out a word "daddy" your lover seems to like it maybe you developed them a new kink?

CW. daddy kink, marking, kissing, unprotected sex(dazai), protected sex(others), breeding kink, soft sex, riding, creampie, ass slapping.

A/N :: reader is dazai's part is Afab, in Fukuzawa has no genitals but mentions hole, in chuuya part is amab, so there's Afab, amab and just the word hole is mentioned! — written by a minor

[MASTERLIST] — (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）works all of them !

DAZAI OSAMU — ෆ⁠╹⁠ ⁠.̮⁠ ⁠╹⁠ෆ

His hands were gripping your hips, you were sure that your hips were going to bruise tomorrow or later now. His hot breath was fanning your ear, you could feel his dick moving inside of you. You reach down and rub your clit as he kisses your neck, sucking on your neck. "Ah!" He hits a spot inside of your warm dripping cunt. He smiles and continues to hit that spot with perfect aiming. "Daddy!" You cried as you rubbed your clit more faster, his movements stop briefly before he goes faster. Your screamed as you move your hands to his back, your nails dipped into his back. Your legs shaking, he was groaning. "Cum on daddy's cock" he whispers in your ear, you grip on his brown hair before you arch your back and cum all over his cock. He groans before letting his liquid inside of your pussy, he didn't wear a condom but in this moment you didn't care the pleasure was too much and your daddy was going to take care of you.

YUKICHI FUKUZAWA — ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

He was gently bouncing you, you gently played with his white hair. He had a pleasure look on his face, you moaned softly. He was so gently and loving towards you, he rubbed your hips while gently pinching your hips. "Your so good for me" He says, he kisses your neck and traces a heart on your thigh. You moaned as you ride his cock little bit more faster, he softly laughed and rubbed your hips. "Mmhm..Fukuzawa" you moaned, he kissed your neck before bouncing you slightly faster on his dick. The way he treated you was so nice, it made you feel good. "Your so gorgeous" he says, he rubs your nipple. You moan and his fingers twist and pull on your nipples. He was still gentle with you, you moaned and a word slipped out your mouth "Daddy.." you didn't hear yourself say that, his movements stopped but he continued his actions. He smiled and kissed chest, he stared to bounce you more faster on his dick. "Don't worry, sweetheart daddy is here for you." He says, your toe curls as his dick hits your spots inside of your hole.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA — ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡

Some of his orange hair falls over his face, you move the hair out of his face. He gritted his teeth, your dick flopped as it hitted his stomach and your own. His hands tightly grip your ass as you continue bouncing on his cock, he groans. "Fuck— your still tight" he says, he slaps your ass as you moan and reach down to stroke your own cock while riding his. "Mmh.." you moan, he groaned. His dick hits your spot, your eyes widen and your dick spurts out pre-cum. Your shiny cum leaks out on his stomach, he continues to hit that spot inside of your hole. "AHh! Daddy!" You yelled out, you didn't hear yourself but he seemed to notice so he went faster. You moaned as your body jumped on top of his dick, he groans and he slams you down on his dick before his dick spurts out his liquid and your does the same.

[19burstraat]

Ok we all know guild me, build me exists due to my artistic abilities being very lacking in the visual arts, so rather than drawing the crows in the komedie brute, I had to write kaz in. however I had ideas for the others that I couldn't get into a fic, so I've put em down here

Kaz: (description ripped from guild me, build me):

a heavy black cape, sewn with stolen chains and jewels so that it jingled upon every movement (...) It was marked up and slit here and there, on the edges and at the collar, to give the impression of crow’s feathers, and it was made of some kind of shiny, velvety fabric that had the oily shine of crow’s plumage. The gloves were the same material, thinner and more embroidered than Kaz would have ever entertained, and the cane was a plain, inaccurate copy– (...) the mask; a silver crow’s head (...) crooked over the eyes and nose, almost like a Kaelish plague mask. But it left the mouth unblocked; of course it did. Dirtyhands needed to talk.

Inej:

Light and flimsy dark (doesn't have to be black; could be blue or grey) fabric for the veil and cloak. Has an element of spiderwebby fraying to it which is a nod to her being... Well, a spider lmao. But also meant to look ghostly and insubstantial, can sometimes see a metal shiny suggestion of knives underneath it. The veil can be parted just down the side of her face, so you can occasionally see a bit of her face, but never the whole thing. Would not be a practical costume to climb or spy in; too long and bothersome, the same way Kaz's Dirtyhands cloak would not be practical to pickpocket in. Sometimes productions get her a few cheap sheath knives.

Jesper:

Rabbit head mask, short cloak in some batshit colour like green or pink, lined w rabbit's fur and threaded with gambling chips, 'lucky' rabbits feet, coins, and stray bullets. Adornments tied on loosely so they swing everywhere when he moves. This way there's also a real risk of the Kaz and Jesper actors getting tangled together if they interact, which is not symbolic, just funny. This is our get-along Komedie Brute costume :) (we are stuck)

Wylan:

A once-fine red cloak with a high ruffly collar-- now tattered and singed and gone to seed. Little bits of wiring or string or pouches of powders etc sewn into it; sneakily embroidered with the Van Eck laurel around the edges. Mask, while elaborate and matching with the cloak, only covers the top half of his face, as if he's not quite as all-in as the others. For similar reasons, the cloak is half-length.

Matthias:

Wolf's head mask ofc, white fur cape a lot longer and more substantial than Jesper's, with heavy furring around the neck (made to bulk out the actor if they're not the right stature, which most will not be). Likely they also weight his boots to make his tread sound more imposing. Possibly a wig if they can afford one, since Druskelle are known for the long hair.

Nina:

Porcelain-doll Venetian style mask (you know the ones!) with a single black tear-- referential both to that bit in CK when they identified themselves that way in the crowd of Mister Crimsons, and the Queen of Mourning thing. Mask is covered with a very light veil, and she wears a long heavy silk cloak with a bit of a hint of a kefta, but not enough to get the Komedie Brute in shit from Ravkan Grisha lmao. Entrance usually heralded with a blue corpselight.

I imagine dependent on the production and the costumier they could look great and beautifully elaborate, or they could look cheap and shit lmao.

Bonus: I got bored and made a mock-up of a page of a Komedie play. I edited over the first folio for this, yes. Sorry to the Big W.S.

[bl00dst41ned]

*.·:·.✦ timeless redamancy ✦.·:·.*

pairing: kóstas tsimíkas x female reader

summary: in which you and kóstas' relationship evolve through each yearly interview

author's note: greek scouser been looking a little too yummy lately. had this idea from a kóstas fic by @curiousthyme but also trent’s interview for channel 4 sport and the pregnant presenter

word count: 1072

2021

“Hello everyone, welcome to a new interview. Today, we are joined by Liverpool’s Kóstas Tsimíkas as he recently celebrated his first year at the English club. Hello Kóstas”

He responded with a quick “hello” as you continued the interview’s introduction. Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel his eyes set on the side of your face. His strong gaze unsettled you as you tried your best to keep your composure in front of the lens.

“So, back in 2020, you joined LFC. How do you feel about this first year at this new club?”

“Well, it has been a great start. I’m enjoying myself with the team. We work hard everyday and try to improve ourselves each day so…it’s good”

With each question, Kóstas didn’t look away from your eyes. Throughout all the years, he would always lose himself in your iris, drowning in your pupils. Every part of you fascinated him and he showed it, regularly gazing.

“Moving on, I’ll go back to your first year in Liverpool and I’ll get a bit more personal. How did you get used to the city and overall new life?”

“Well…it was hard at first but now it’s okay” You watched as he thought of what to say. “My family is a bit far but I still have people here. My teammates, my girlfriend so I’m good”

It was hard to keep a straight face as he mentioned you. He never talked about your relationship but he thought it was a good opportunity to destabilise you.

“Oh, your girlfriend ? Nice”

You both shared a smile before going back to the interview.

2022

“Hello everyone, welcome to a new interview” You smiled at the camera, sitted on the comfortable chair, legs crossed “Today, we are joined by Liverpool’s Kóstas Tsimíkas. Hi Kóstas, how are you?”

“I’m good, thank you, how are you ?”

“I’m great, thanks for asking. So first, I’d like to know how life has been recently ?”

No matter how much professionalism you gained within the year, interviewing your boyfriend was still the hardest challenge you had to face. You still felt the butterflies in your stomach just from him looking at you in your eyes. Kóstas knew about it and loved teasing you in public, trying to make you break character at each interview. Just like he did now.

“I had to face hard moments, but life has been good. I’m still enjoying myself at the club and yeah…I love it here”

As you asked your questions, your right hand played with your ring finger where sat a shiny diamond ring. You twisted it from time to time, stopping once you noticed your producer’s widened eyes, wordlessly warning you about your unnecessary movements.

“How do you try to improve your performances each game ?”

“By training, keeping a good diet and a healthy lifestyle in general. At the club, we always try to do better than the game before so the team’s mentality influences my determination”

You opened your mouth to ask your next question only to be interrupted by your partner.

“I see you got a ring, you’re married ?” Kóstas asked, a smirk on his face.

You blushed, struggling to find the words to answer.

“Yes I just got engaged. I didn’t know you were so observant”

“Yeah, I proposed to my girlfriend recently so my mind is set in that mood”

You quickly moved on since you knew any more words on it would distract you from your job.

You silently mouthed as he answered the question you just asked: “You’re the worst”.

2023

“Hello everyone, welcome to a new interview” You smiled at the camera, a hand on your hard 7 month-old pregnant belly, body slightly inclined on the armrest for comfort. “Today, we are joined by Liverpool’s Kóstas Tsimíkas as he signed a new deal with the club, hi Kóstas, how are you?”

It had become a known fact to the public that you were his wife but you loved to play it off during interviews and never be straightforward.

“I’m good, I see that you're expecting, congratulations. How are you?”

“It’s a tad tiring but my husband’s always there to help if I need” You winked at him discreetly as his smile got wider.

“I’m sure, he’s a great man” He added, making you chuckle at the way he praised himself.

“So tell me, what made you want to extend your contract?”

“I just feel comfortable here at the club and in the city. I don’t think there’s another club that’ll make me feel like this right now. And with things happening in my life, I’d rather be somewhere I’m settled”

He eyed your stomach while answering, seeing it move as your baby pushed it. He tried his hardest not to be disturbed and keep his focus on your questions. 

The two of you had gone through a lot. You grew to go from a simple relationship to being married. And after all of these years, Kóstas always seemed to be amazed by you. 

Your beauty had never changed 

“So, last time we saw each other, you had gotten engaged, now you’re a married man, how does it feel ?” As you read the question, you turned to the producer behind the camera who wrote the question.

“It’s the best feeling ever” Kóstas held the biggest grin on his face as he looked into your eyes. “I have the greatest wife ever so taking this step was evident, you know. She’s my biggest supporter, always there for me so I’m glad to be able to call her my wife”

Your heart fluttered at his words. He rarely talked about you publicly but each time he did, he never forgot to praise you. And it made you blush each time. But today was different as your hormones were all over the place. And as much as you tried not to cry, tears brimmed up in your eyes.

“Oh my god, that is too cute” You waved your hand to dry the tears away.

“I know I’m the luckiest man ever”

You calmed down before going back to your questions and succeeding to finish it without another emotional excess.

“Well, we’ve come to an end with this encounter. Thank you to you guys for watching and a big thank you to you, Kóstas for your time”

“Your welcome, Mrs Tsimíkas” He winked at you, earning a laugh from you.

like and repost for support

putting my grades in jeopardy just for this

masterlist for more

[seafoamreadings]

week of march 17th, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: the first half of the week is very you. maybe everything is going your way, or maybe not but you're at least positive that you're the main character. later, your ruling planet mars moves into pisces - it is a strange and passive sign for him but it means you can do magic. for real.

taurus: your ruling planet venus harmonizes beautifully with benefic jupiter in your sign this week. it is hard to ask for a better aspect, although it is quick and fleeting. make good use of it. it gives you charm, allure, and an appetite for pleasure.

gemini: it's not mercury retrograde yet, but mercury is already in the shadow of his next retrograde. his alignment this week with the lunar nodes makes this effect more powerful than usual for everyone, and profoundly so for mercurial you.

cancerians: next week involves an eclipse, the start of eclipse season. it's so profound that one as lunar as you are likely feels the buildup already. things will bubble over - start preparing now to catch the overflow and prevent trouble so you can make the most of eclipse season.

leo: this week starts off aries season. and the sun has its rulership in your sign, but its exaltation in aries, so this period is VERY favorable (and shiny! and fun!) for leos. increase the benefits by learning about something you feel passionate about.

virgo: what is coming up in the next several weeks involves your shared resources and money from sources like inheritance. avoid merging households at this time, make sure your taxes are in order, keep your debt as low as possible, and so on.

libra: this week is the equinox, in your opposite sign and house of relationships. partnerships can be looking sunny indeed. but hold on to your hat, because *next* week there is a major lunar eclipse between libra and aries that can have these same relationships in turmoil, or at least upheaval.

scorpio: were it not for your ancient affiliation with mars, you would find little in common with aries. however, when the sun is in aries it is a bit of a special time for you due to that old connection. for a little bit, your martial side may become stronger than your plutonic side. meanwhile mars for its own part heads into pisces this week, and while many flounder with this placement, you do have an affinity with that watery sign. this ingress helps you make magic.

sagittarius: a couple of quite important ingresses occur this week. but the most noticeable for you will be the start of aries season. that marks the movement of the sun into your very fun and romantic 5th house. go wild. but keep your home beautiful and clean just in case you end up doing a bit of hosting, with mars in your 4th! a party would not be out of place if the mood strikes you.

capricorn: you will not read much about ceres out there in the world, but i hope that as she traverses your sign this time around, you develop a great appreciation for her. she makes some very benevolent and nourishing sextiles this week; try to be open to the fruits they yield.

aquarius: now with the start of spring, mars follows his lover venus into the sign of the purest love itself, pisces. this is your 2nd house, and a deeply romantic set of ingresses. it's good news for your money. but more than that, it's good news for anything that you value. cherish those things.

pisces: the sun in aries always means lovely things for you financially - it's like actual gold. furthermore by the end of the week you'll be hosting in your sign not just neptune and saturn and venus but also mars. you're deeply magical, and hardly tangible to the creatures of this realm. you're on another plane, in the best way. be kind to yourself and avoid addiction, compulsion, or dishonesty, and the results will be beautiful.

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

The Knight In Shining Chromium (Series)

WARNING: MINORS DNI, mentions of alcohol consumption, threats, mean!phasma, betrayl, slight angst, flufff?, use of ocs, Phasma being tall yk :)

part two

┌───── •✧✧• ─────┐ The Presence of The Captain

└───── •✧✧• ─────┘

sum: after Hux has taken over y/n’s kingdom it’s up to her to try and save her people from the first order and evade a certain shiny armored Captain

(Not proofread)

Y/n rested in her chambers, sitting and reading in her spot on the window seat. A soft pillow sat in her lap whilst she flipped through the page with her nimble fingers. She was relieved to finally have a moment to herself and not be constantly bombarded with the First Order. If only she had trusted her gut and banished her royal advisor, Iris Firestar, then this situation would’ve never happened.

The Kingdom of Kalisto wasn’t in shambles, unlike other planets the First Order had taken over.

The recent invasion of their home was very much traumatizing, they lost many warriors that tragic day. The war was merciless, though, some were spared. Y/n couldn’t forget the moment they had breached the walls of the great Palace and captured y/n and her remaining family, which was her two sisters.

One older sister, Lanovah, and youngest sister, Danica. Their parents had died a few years ago and everything was well, that was until Iris had got a little power hungry.

Hux had locked y/n in her chambers with no way out, except for a window that dropped at least a couple hundred feet. So, unless she wanted to die a painful death, she couldn’t get out.

Knock. Knock.

“What is it now, Hux?” The Princess huffed, shutting her book with a slam, the door opened revealing the corrupt advisor.

“Oh. You.” She seethed, crossing her arms, not moving an inch, yet Iris moved quick grabbing the girl’s arm and yanking her up, not even saying a word. Her face was expressionless as she dragged her across the Palace, the Young Princess screamed and shouted behind her doing her best to resist her grasp. Throwing the throne rooms’ doors open she pushed her inside, shutting them promptly behind her, “You sick monsters, what do you want from me now? Money?” Troops marched into the throne room with an organized fashion, another one that looked like a trooper walked in behind them. The figure commanded respect, never faltering in their confident movements. She instructed for the troops to disperse around the room, her voice was harsh, rough, but feminine in a way, they all replied with a ‘Yes, Captain Phasma.’

Hmm. Y/n knew of that name, she could faintly remember her people gossiping about a highly decorated Captain from the first order

“I’m saddened, you think so lowly of me, Princess Y/n” Armitage smirked, his hands secured behind his back, he took a step forward, explaining the situation to the princess, no one in the royal family would be left alone without a trooper with them at all times.

In this case for y/n, Captain.

“I’ve assigned you, Captain Phasma, one of our finest” He stepped aside to let the chrome armored woman stand next him, her aura never fading, it seemed that Hux was being rushed and hastily sent them off to do what ever it is the Princess needed to do.

————

“So, what do you like to do?” Y/n asked, looking up at the tall Captain her armor was perfectly polished, so much so that she could see herself in the reflection. She’d tried to get to know the First Order Captain but it had been a few hours and she hadn’t said a peep. Anytime she’d need to go somewhere Phasma was always a few feet or…inches away.

She didn’t sign up for this! No, this couldn’t be happening her privacy was always something she valued. Now, it was ruined all due to that Armitage and this walking disco ball. She’d abandoned any form of manners, she prayed to the maker that she’d have the strength not to just smack the Captain in the head. Though, she was sure she’d be overpowered.

She opened her window revealing the glorious City surrounding the Palace walls. Her eyes stung with many emotions, she looked out at the city she failed to protect, she had failed her parents, her people, her oath.

She could feel the other woman’s presence in the room standing firm like a statue. She wondered what was under that perfectly polished exterior. Maybe what lay beneath doesn’t resemble the outside.

The princess huffed, throwing the book she was reading before onto a pile of them on the floor. She sniffled as tears began to resurface, Phasma turned her head toward the young woman, her face shielded her from revealing any sort of emotion not that she was going to show them any way. Her just smirked knowing that the princess realized that there was no way out of this. Surely, now that the First Order has the upper hand, this Kingdom will be a base of some sort, who knows what obstacles and difficulties the people of Kalisto will endure. Maybe, the First Order will receive a protest of some sort.

Only time would tell on how this disaster would end up.

———

Pretty short but proud of what I got together in a short amount of time!

[hereforthefanficsandromance]

Fan Prize Story #1: Training in the Water

Credit: FlamMabel

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Thank you @flammabel for participating in the Act II opening weekend for The Way He Looks at You. I hope you enjoy your prize!

Read on AO3 Read on Blogger Read on Tumblr Master List: One Shots

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Summary

You, a former Jedi, watch Cal practice his forms. He offers to jog your memory on how to do them. Rating: 18+ Words: 2.2K

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You could hear him before you could see him. The sounds of splashing as he moved through the water, practicing, always practicing. You had been traveling with Cal for a few weeks now and his commitment to rehearsing the forms of the old ways impressed you. You knew the forms, but you practiced them much less. It was honestly embarrassing to attempt them in his presence.

Cal had helped you escape a deadly situation with the Ninth Sister. Your ability to save yourself had waned since the Purge. Lying low for years will do that to a body. You weren’t out of shape, per se, but Cal had been training more in recent years than you. Still getting to know the man, it felt awkward to ask him to teach what you both learned as padawans. So you settled for watching him move through the familiar but forgotten movements. Then sneak away to practice in your room aboard the Mantis.

Your short copper hair danced along your temples as a light breeze rustled the trees of the lush and beautiful planet. The sound of splashing grew as you neared where Cal was practicing. Your heart rate increased as you rounded the corner, exposing the handsome man.

He was wearing trousers and an undershirt that pleasantly showed off his muscular arms. You couldn’t help but let your eyes rake across each flexing inch of skin as he moved. His red hair speckled with dark stains from the water droplets he has stirred up.

Cal looks up to meet your eye as you approach. He offers you a cheeky grin and a small wave before returning to his forms. You make your way to a large flat rock by the edge of the water. The smooth stone was now heated to a comfortable temperature in the sun.

You nod your head to Cal and lounge on the rock, thinking perhaps you could meditate here. But the thought of taking your mind elsewhere when the view in front of you is so beautiful seemed impossible. So instead you watched, as you have many times before.

Mostly you tried to stay focused on learning from his movements, but your brain had other ideas. It saw each movement as more than Jedi training; it saw opportunities for how he might behave in a more intimate setting.

His long fingers, trained to coax objects into his hands using the Force, could instead coax out multiple orgasms from your aching- No. You can’t think of him like that. You barely know him. The Order fell, but you can stay true to the old ways. Though there are few Jedi left to complain if you stray.

His powerful body could save the galaxy and make you see stars, couldn’t it? It might improve morale, give him a reward for his years of hard work. Your cheeks flush at the runaway thoughts, and you focus to steady your breathing. Then you hear Cal wading out of the water and approaching your spot in the sun.

“Did you hear me?” He asks.

“Oh! No, so sorry, I was lost in, uh, thought.” You say.

Cal gives you a curious smile. “I was asking if you’d like to do forms with me in the water.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Does it have to be in the water?”

You watch as clear streams travel down his clothes and into the earth. His skin is shiny and sleek. You wouldn’t mind getting a drink off of him.

“The water resistance requires focused and precise movements. It’s a great tool for training.”

“But my clothes will get wet.”

“Don’t worry, we can lie in the sun after while they dry. Maybe just take off any layers that might slow the drying process.”

He says and gestures to his shirt lying under a nearby tree. You look between him and the article of clothing, wondering if removing your shirt is a good idea.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me taking off a layer?” You ask.

“Of course! I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I promise, practicing forms in the water is worth the time to dry.” He smiles and offers you his hand.

You accept the outstretched limb and stand with his help. Moisture moves from his hand onto yours, sharing the cool water between your bodies. Reluctantly, you release his hand to grasp the bottom hem of your shirt. You lift the fabric and remove it from your skin.

Now only in a sports bra and trousers, noticing Cal’s eyes on you. He has the good grace to look away and pretend he hadn’t stared. But you saw the look in his green eyes. The hungry way his eyes raked over your exposed flesh. This new information makes you feel bold and you feel ready to test the waters.

“I’m wearing some shorts under my pants. I’d rather not have to wait for them to dry, so if it’s okay with you, I’ll take them off as well.” You glance up into Cal’s eyes as you ask the loaded question.

Cal swallows hard and nods, keeping his eyes trained on your face. He appears to be fighting an internal battle.

“That’s great! It’s fine, I mean. Whatever you need to feel comfortable.” He stumbles over his words.

You hook your thumbs under the waistband and pull the fabric down to your ankles, stepping out of them. Leaving the clothes on the warm rock. You glance at Cal, and he looks anywhere but at you, his pale skin now burning red.

“I’m ready.”

“Right, um, lead the way.” He says.

You give a small smile, but are internally beaming. There is no doubt in your mind that he is going to check you out as you walk ahead of him. You pass the nervous man, barely brushing your arm against his as you begin the walk towards the water’s edge. Knowingly, you sway your hips a bit more than normal as you walk, giving the other Jedi a small show.

As you step into the shallow water, you turn to look at Cal. All you see is panic in his eyes as he rushes into the water until waist deep. You take your time moving into the water, allowing your skin to disappear gracefully into the blue lake. Cal watches you move, but occasionally glances down into the water directly below him, then shifting.

“The form you were doing, I struggle with this part.” You say, trying to offer a distraction.

You move through the form before getting to the troublesome part where you aren’t sure how to position your left arm to carry the right arm forward uninterrupted. Cal takes the welcome distraction and focuses on helping you. He tries a few times to talk you through the process before it happens. He approaches you in the water, realizing that you need more help than just verbal instruction.

“Like this,” He says gently while stepping behind you and placing a hand on each arm.

Your skin lights up at the touch, allowing him to guide your movements through the tricky part. You become distracted by his touch and fumble, twisting around to apologize. As you turn to face Cal, your thigh brushes against something firm.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you brought your lightsaber in here. Do I need mine? I left it back with my clothes.” You say, embarrassed that you joined in practice so unprepared.

Cal turns deep red. “That’s not…I, uh, also left my lightsaber with my shirt.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you…are you…um…”

“You’re pretty.” He mumbles.

“You are too.”

He cocks his head and gives a half smile. “You think so?”

You bite your lip and glance down before looking into his crinkled eyes. “It’s honestly distracting.”

“My sentiments exactly.” He lets out a laugh.

His hands are still on your arms, frozen from a forgotten moment. You take a chance and rest your hands on his chest, facing him entirely. Cal repositions his hands, resting on your hips.

“Can I…” He trails off.

You nod, not needing to hear more. Cal wastes no time leaning down to brush his lips against yours. Electricity sparks in your body as he kisses you harder. His hands grip you tighter and pull you flush against his body. The angle proving that it was not a lightsaber you felt earlier.

You kiss him back with equal force, wanting him as much as he wants you. Cal wraps his arms all the way around you and steps back, falling deeper into the water, pulling you in with him. You let out a small squeal as you fall, landing softly on his chest as he partially floats.

“Cal, are you sure?”

He nods once then resumes kissing you deeply, his tongue moving in past your lips. You let out a small moan, encouraging him. He breaks the kiss, looking at you with hooded eyes, his pupils dilated and lustful. Cal moves in to kiss down the side of your neck. You tilt your head, and he fills the new void. His hands move up from your waist to figure out how to remove your bra.

You giggle as he struggles, and he sinks his teeth into the base of your neck in response. The sounds of laughter changing to something more primal and needy. He finally frees your body of the offending fabric and pulls away to watch your breasts spill into the water.

His eyes light up and he leans forward to take one into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue at the sensitive bud. You throw your head back as he works, his other hand snaking up to play with the ignored nipple, pinching and twisting to your delight.

“Cal.” Escape your lips.

You feel him smile against your skin at hearing his name while he pleasures you. Trying to return the favor, your hands move down to his waistband and push them down over his hips, freeing his hard length. You wrap your fingers around him and immediately hear a strangled sound from the man suckling at your breast. Slowly pumping him beneath the water, you imagine what it must look like.

Thoughts interrupted by his expert fingers pushing under your elastic shorts and searching between your legs. He brushes your clit as he finds your weeping hole and you let out a groan. Cal draws back away from the wetness and tries to find the small bud that made you cry out. He wants to hear you make more noise.

He finds the spot, and you cry out his name again. Cal settles into position and rubs deliberate circles around the bundle of nerves. You let loose an array of noises and barely audible swears.

Cal keeps his eyes focused on your face, fascinated by the way his fingers are affecting your body. His other hand travels down to free you of your shorts. Once you kick them off, he uses the Force to pull them from the water and send them to the edge of the shore. His trousers following soon after.

You release his cock to pull his soaked shirt up over his body, causing his fingers to leave your body for a moment. His hair is messy and wet, his incredible physique is now on full display. He gives you a boyish smile and you feel weak at the knees.

Cal pulls you close again, and you wrap your legs around him. His tip pressing against your entrance, you look at him and nod and he pushes in a few inches. You both press your foreheads together as you experience this new and wonderful sensation.

“You feel so good. It’s really…good.” He says in a hazy lust.

Cal reaches between your bodies to pull more sounds from your mouth as he successfully finds your clit again. Your moans give him the permission he needs to thrust repeatedly into your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and meet his movements. It doesn’t take long until you are both panting and approaching your edge. Cal’s fingers become more frantic, trying to time your pleasure with his own.

“Cal, please, I’m close.” You say.

“Me too. You’re incredible. I should have offered to help you with your forms sooner.”

“You can help me with my forms daily if it ends like this.”

A coy smile crosses his lips as he pumps forcefully a few more times. You grip his shoulders hard as your orgasm arrives. Your core squeezing and gripping at the Jedi inside you. Cal swears under his breath as his thrusts slow and grow sloppy. You feel his own release as he fills you with his desire.

You both stay in the water, just enjoying being so close to one another. Finally, he slides out and carries you to shore, your legs still wrapped around him. Cal takes you to the large rock and sets you down before sitting next to you.

“I promised you we would dry in the sun.” He offers a shy smile. “Maybe we could keep working on things out here. I’d like to hear those noises again.”

Cal doesn’t stop his work until you are both as dry as you’ll likely be.

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[gladosisstillalesbian]

happy caroline appreciation day 2024! have a fic originally written in 2019 👍

-

On her lunch breaks Caroline goes and sits in the chassis room. It’s off-limits to everyone but the engineering team, technically, but Caroline would love for someone to try and tell her to leave. Honestly, it would make her day.

She likes to stare up into that yellow bit that looks like an eye. It’s high enough above her that she can’t quite make it all out -her eyesight’s been going the past few years, she’s noticed- but she likes to think she can see herself reflected back. She likes to think she looks unafraid.

Caroline doesn’t think she’s afraid- she certainly doesn’t feel it. So maybe when Cave first brought it up she balked. But that was edging up on a quarter century ago, and things certainly look different to her now than they did at forty-five.

She didn’t think it would be this different without him, for a start.

Sure, her job’s still the same- on paper. But everything’s on paper, isn’t it? Sign this, fill out that, toss that one, mail it, file it, cash the check, approve the schematic. She watches every cog in the great machine turn, she feels each tooth grind and each spark fly and knows what needs oil and what needs time, and yet she does it from behind a wall of paper. She clocks in and clocks out and no one talks to her, she skims what she needs to get by from the books and no one notices, she even reads classified emails and hasn’t gotten one question about it. Cave’s the one who died and yet somehow Caroline’s the one who’s become a ghost.

Sometimes she considers hiring an assistant, but buying new toys to medicate boredom was always more Cave’s style.

She hears movement beyond the glass of the control room window and sees shapes through the tint- they’re watching her again. Cowards, Caroline thinks, and lights a cigarette (she’s taken up smoking again; when Cave died his intolerance for woman smokers went with him; it’s one of the few things she doesn’t miss). They let her take her time. After all, they’re taking plenty of their own. They have all the gear set up -she’s even seen the chair, medieval restraints and all- and the machine itself certainly looks ready, all shiny and white and massive, and yet she’s still here.

They’re scared of the procedure, she thinks. They’re putting it off. Not because of the ethics -Caroline is sure that some of them want nothing more than to strap her down and pump her full of Clonidine- no, she thinks they’re scared of her. They don’t like how much she knows about the robot- about its design, its mechanisms, their many trials and triumphs in getting the thing built. (It was mostly trials, something that draws a strange, almost parental pride out of Caroline.) She even knows how they want to go about the transfer. And they don’t understand how she could know all that, and know how badly they want it to hurt, and still go through with it.

She thinks even the kinder ones harbor a secret wish to see her run for the hills, the hysteria apparently inherent to her sex finally getting the better of her. She wonders if some of them dream of chasing her down.

But Caroline hasn’t run yet, and she has no intention to. In fact, she’s not even running now- look at her, she’s enjoying a nice smoke in the shade of the sprawling mechanical monster that has somehow become both her present and her future. She turns to look again into that as-yet-dim yellow eye, dangling above her like some great bird, and imagines what it might be like to look down instead of up.

-

Eventually, after some aggressive conferencing, one of the junior engineers is pushed through the doors to shoo the secretary out. He enters the chamber to find her standing directly underneath the chassis, gazing up at it like it’s about to say something important and she desperately wants to listen. Nothing new. He clears his throat, asks her to leave. He’s nice about it, or at least he feels that he is. He’s got nothing against her- she’s the one who smiled at him and gave him a pin for his backpack when he came for Career Day with his third grade class. He likes her.

He has to ask again- the first time she didn’t hear him, or maybe she pretended she didn’t. But after the second time she turns around and looks at him instead. Five more minutes, ma’am? he says, because he wants to be the good guy. Yes sir, she says, and he knows she isn’t actually in the robot yet but it still feels like an automated response. After that he goes back to his coworkers so they can tell him he tried, they know, she can be so difficult, but hey, that’s what the boss saw in her, right? And when five minutes is up he comes back to find her standing in the same spot, and in the quiet that settles around his hesitation he hears her say to the machine,

“It’ll be you, won’t it? It’s always been you.”

And now he thinks she’s really lost it so he goes to take her arm and escort her out, but before he can she turns on her heel and does it for him and the look she shoots him on the way out makes him wonder whether, once they upload her, the only thing that will change is how much is standing in her way.

[wannaeatramyeon]

S/o being a real wife material and girl friend and a daughter of a gang leader/yakuza. (To be honest I been messing around the Cai chat group of Gun and my OC somehow it end up being my OC being to wife material that Gun fell for her lol)

SAM!! I DID IT!! So so sooooo sorry for taking so long. Thank you for the ask and providing your services for delicious C.ai. You provide the best little brain children. This turned out REALLY fun to write! As always, I read the request and hit half of it at best 🙇🏻‍♀️

Gun Park x Reader: I do

Part 2 here

Gun easily picks you out.

At first the madame refuses. Gun stuffs her mouth with so much gold that she tells you he is top priority, a V-VIP. You cannot say no to his company, and she would happily face the wrath of your father.

So be it.

Sitting in a quiet corner, where the dimlights are forgiving with the worn leather sofa and the permanent water stains on the low table, Gun watches you sashay across the room to him. In a flimsy dress, cheap and shiny; skin-coloured to allude to nudity and keep the salacious patrons hungry and eager.

Your movements turn many heads. It's not a surprise.

"Hi~" you say, your voice sickly sweet as you take a seat next to him. Too close to be appropriate in anywhere but a hostess bar. "What's your name, handsome?"

"Shiro Oni," he replies simply, the words ringing in the air.

Gun lights up a cigarette, giving you a small courtesy to catch up with the meaning of the name, of tonight.

Your demeanour from a second ago is already long gone.

"Yamazaki Yuzuru," you spit, automatically recoiling away, "Or is it Gun Park you go by now?"

"Call me whatever you want, it doesn't matter," he takes another drag, impressed that you worked it out so quickly. Impressed that you know of his other alias.

"What do you want?" With anyone else you would have stormed out of the room, but you can't afford to leave.

"I'm here to discuss our agreement."

A simple statement of fact that incenses you.

"No fucking way."

"You keep saying no to an arranged marriage. Are you stupid?"

"I don't want to marry a fucking stranger." This is too far. You're in no mood for this conversation. You stand to leave but his hand reaches out, grabbing your wrist.

"Not so fast. I have an offer for you."

His tone compels you, all business and serious. No-one ever includes you in the family business. No-one ever takes you seriously.

It's here that Gun really looks at you. His pitch-black eyes staring into yours and chilling you to the bone. Yet you don't flinch, you're not afraid.

Gun smiles a little at this, you could be useful.

Your reputation precedes you. A spitball with a rebellious streak, a force to be reckoned with. Could have been great if you were born a man. Shame that the Yakuza still has outdated traditions. What a fucking waste.

"You don't want to be the daughter of a Yakuza clan forever. No ambitions, no power, no freedom. Forever under the thumb of your father and other men."

Gun can read you already. No-one behaves like you do expecting to just be a meek and filial daughter all their life. His next words reach into your soul.

"Join me, come to South Korea. I will make you my equal."

An equal? A partnership? Unheard of in the underworld. Scoffed at by your father, your mother, your brothers despite how much better you are. There must be a catch. "And what do you gain from it?"

"It benefits our clans to join. Saves a lot of headaches especially when my attention is elsewhere."

It's an honest admission of a weak spot you did not expect. "What if I say no?"

Gun stubs out his cigarette, so casual, so relaxed. "Then I will just kill every single one of you. Everyone you know will die."

Ah, there it is.

You thought your hairs would stand on end, you thought your jaw would drop in shock. But of course with the Shiro Oni, even with his 'attention elsewhere', when has anyone ever rejected him and lived to tell the tale. The Magami clan bloodshed a grim warning to anyone that would ever consider crossing him.

Gun's full attention is on you. A weaker person would shrink under his gaze. "Do you accept? I won't ask again."

You deliberate.

A chance to be greater than your birthright; to be seen as more than what is between your legs.

It's certainly enticing.

As much as it pains you to admit it, he's right. Your entire clan will either die by his hand or best case, stay where you are and you are destined to amount to nothing.

And maybe you can get to know this demon in South Korea. This 'Gun Park'. Being together. Here is a stranger that already offers you something no-one ever has, that fulfils all your desires without even fully knowing you.

Childish notions of romance still float in your head, despite how much you have tried to harden yourself from such foolish daydreams.

Staring into his eyes, you swallow down any doubt. You don't think about how this is exactly like making a deal with the devil.

"I do."

[gentlemean]

I know the fandom loves throwing ideas around for a hypothetical adaptation, so why not chime in.

I think most of us agree that an animated series would be better than the dreaded life-action adaptation. Regardless of format, any adaptation would have to somehow preserve the peculiarities, the absolute whiplash, and way the narration shapes the narrative. In my opinion, an animated series could do this quite well.

We start off with Gideon the Ninth. It's shown in heavily stylized 3d animation (think, at least Arcane-style), with strong contrasts in the colors. The Ninth house is dark and desaturated, the lights in the eyes of animated skeletons and Gideon's hair positively burn among the dreary surroundings. Then, getting to the First, the world is vibrant and bright, lots of elaborate light refractions in the broken windows of Canaan house.

Characters are accompanied not only by small, individual musical themes, but also by visual clues. Each house might have distinct little particles and effects that appear in scenes in which the respective characters act. They might synergize in scenes where characters cooperate or contrast in scenes in which they fight. (example: the Niners are always accompanied by shadows, ink-blots staining the scenery around them. The Third are too graceful to be real, all of their animations use exaggerated smear-frames in overly grandiose flourishes. When Naberius fights Gideon, his strikes stir the shadows around Gideon, cleaving bright rifts into the inkstained dark.)

The story is told as we know it, without reordering or large ommissions. One thing we see not nearly often enough in modern television is actual narration in the background. We don't need it for all of the visuals and happenings, but so much of gtn profits from Gideon's thoughts and feelings.

A few scenes look differently though. When Gideon allows Harrow to take over her vision, the animation style changes. It gets a bit more abstract, the surroundings are textured like oil paintings, and Gideon herself has trails of smoke and ink following her movements. This is how they see the world together, and it is reflected again at the very end of the first book, when Harrow ascends. Except this time there's no borrowing, it's something deeper. The world is painted, more abstractly this time, and the characters appear almost like paper cuts.

And then the fun begins. We leave gtn and start htn. There is no more Gideon in our narrative, and yet there is her narration. As in the first series we retain parts of the narration, and it is her voice - mostly. Now, this is a source of great confusion in the book, right? The series would have to make it explicit that it is her voice, but it can have fun with it nevertheless. Some words are garbled, overlapping, distorted. Sometimes, Harrow's voice seamlessly takes over the narration, drifting in and continuing, while still using Gideon's pronunciation and vocal flow.

The visuals, on the other hand - now, that's an entirely different thing. At this point we know what the world looks like when Gideon sees it and what it looks like when they see it together. htn gives us two exciting new variations: 'Harrow with very little Gideon' for the Mithraeum story, and 'Harrow entirely without Gideon' for the river bubble. In the main, physical-world story we retain broad strokes of thick oil paint for the world around Harrow. The characters are too clean on a messy background, with some of the paint steadily bleeding into their shapes. The paint seems almost like it is an active participant in the narrative, crawling across inconvenient truths to blot them out, staining everyone but keeping it's distant from John, who therefore remains clearer than clear, shiny and bright, squeaky clean and lemon scented. But then there's the river bubble, and we get full Harrow, with a teeny bit of Wake. The scenery around the characters is vague and misty, swathes of color arrange into a distorted background like ink being poured into water. The entire scenery bleeds color and light into the surroundings of dark, barely saturated characters. It breaks at the seams when the uncomfortably realistic fleshy pipes wind through the walls, something too concrete for a tearstained world.

Towards the final act, we see a few changes: Abigail summons Nonius, and the shape language changes. Everything's still illustrated the way it was before, but the stark, desaturated characters in his proximity stop being mere dark blots in this scenery, and instead become almost comic-like. Their strikes and attacks are supported by respective action lines, their poses and moves adapt to the newly imposed genre conventions. Meanwhile, on the Mithraeum, Gideon is keeping the fires burning. We're almost back to the way we used to see the world in the beginning, Gideon's stark contrast and smooth environments. But there's the ink bleeding into the scenery from dark corners and bright red puddles, there's enough of Harrow here to stain the world.

And, well. We get to Nona. And Nona's world fundamentally isn't like the one the other's see. Nona's world is mismatched and chaotic and charmingly odd. Most of it is claymation, interspersed with some other materials. Cam's swords are real metal, the dust of New Rho fills the air, and most of the food is probably actual food that looks as dreadfully out of place in this world as it feels in Nona's mouth. There remains a touch of Harrow, expressive movements are exaggerated with her flowing ink, action lines like calligraphy. Of course, there are also the John chapters. Here, we get to have proper fun with the visuals. Let's recap: it's Harrow getting to experience a memory of Alecto, narrated by John. We already know Harrow's flowing colors that stain the backgrounds, and we get mixed medium animation with it: articulated plastic dolls, of course, with some natural materials (moss, wood, some metal scraps) as set dressing.

I'm still not entirely settled on the Nona Epilogue. As long as Alecto isn't out I'm not sure whether I want to keep in line with something from the next book, or whether it's its own thing. Until we know more: illuminated manuscript.

---

Well, that was more than I originally intended to write, but I've had those thoughts in my head basically since I've started the books, and they needed an outlet. There's plenty more ideas where those came from, please please talk to me. 'The Unwanted Guest' as an actual play, anyone? (When Cam makes contact with Babs, and the fight initiates, the camera zooms out from the now frozen claymation, revealing it's situated on a table in the front row of a theatre hall BTW)

[amalthea-felsblood]

Name: Feothan Aliases: Feo/The Winged Fury Gender: Female Orientation: Straight Age: 32 Height: 5'6'' (when standing upright) 1'8'' (bird shift) Build: Average/Slender Skin Tone: Pale/Fair Hair: Natural red Eyes: Pale blue/Grey

Identifying Marks: Freckles /Old battle scars

Appearance: From a distance, Feothan would seem like a normal looking Elezen maiden until, upon closer inspection, you would notice her winged arms (if she has shifted her arms into wings) a second set of ears and her thin bird legs. When shifting into her smaller bird form, she would almost resemble a pixie or fairy. Feothan mainly wears tribal attire but has always been fascinated by the outfits that hyur's wear.

Personality: Feothan is very kind and gentle, but she is also feral and fierce. She will do anything to protect herself and others by any means. She is very curious and loves to find/keep anything shiny, but this can show more of her spoiled side if she can't get what she wants. Feothan loves to sing to the forest and the creatures who live within it.

Backstory: Feothan was born apart of a very large scream of violent and mischievous harpies. Although she had never felt like one of her kin, she took no pleasure in killing needlessly nor in the luring of hyur's to their deaths. Instead, she pitied them. As time went on, the rest of her scream began to take notice of her behavior and saw her as the weak link in the chain. They would not stand for it any longer. One day, without warning, as Feothan was hunting in the forest, the sky suddenly started fading to black and loud screeching could be heard. Feothan turns to face the sky, her eyes widened with great fear as she saw her kin coming for her with weapon's readied and aimed. Without a second thought, she quickly puts away her bow and shifts her arms back into wings. She flies below the canopy lines of the forest, dodging the arrows that rain upon her at every angle until she is struck. An arrow pierces her left wing, and it sends her into a spiral as she falls into the seaside cliffs below the forest, the scream circles above until they are convinced she perished to the fall. But fate was on Feothan's side that day, for as she fell into the jagged rocks she was lucky enough to be caught by a few extending roots from the forest above. Wounded and out of breath, Feothan waited until she could no longer hear her kin in the skies before starting the climb down to the shoreline, but with each painful movement she began to fade in and out of consciousness. Finally reaching the bottom of the cliffs, she quickly looks for another forest for rest and recovery. Holding her wounded arm, she makes her way from the beach and into the safety of this new and unknown area. After a bit of restless searching, Feothan finds a nearby forest and tucks herself inside a hollowed tree where she collapses from the pain and exhaustion. Now her tale truly begins as she starts her life anew alone and wounded but alive and willing to believe in fate and what it may bring her.

Top portrait by @thebrumeknight-ffxiv ❤

I'll be posting about her abilities and her other forms next but I hope you enjoy what I've written so far!

[jerzwriter]

Body Positivity:

TW: body shaming, fatphobia, skinnyphobia, eating disorders, and the like.

I'm so fucking angry and triggered right now, and I need to vent. I was at what was supposed to be a fun family event, and because I didn't want to completely blow up, I stepped outside. But I am SO PISSED that I need to get this out. While trauma dumping on a toxic website is probably not the best idea, I literally have to vent, or I'm going to explode, and I REALLY HOPE someone will read this and learn something.

I think the body positivity movement has been great—and I wish we had something like it when I was growing up because, trust, it was non-existent. But, like many things, it's great on the surface, but a certain segment has morphed it into something that is as destructive and hateful as the behaviors/actions that led to the need for such a movement.

Some background, so you understand my perspective. I've struggled with my weight my whole life. I've been everything from a size 6 to a size 22. I'm very tall, and when I was at my thinnest (mostly because I was starving myself), people came up to me constantly to tell me how amazing I looked. I'm talking friends, family, co-workers, people at the club, and strangers on the street. I was literally dangerously underweight. My family doctor, who had treated me most of my life, was begging me to get help.

I wound up getting help for what turned out to be an eating disorder and moved past that as much as I could. Since that time, my weight has fluctuated from average, to "a few extra pounds", to very overweight. While I am usually OK with myself and try to be positive about my body, it can be hard. I don't like the way I look right now, and I’m ashamed to say that because I don’t feel that way about others. Beauty is not a number or a size, and I know that, but I am my own harshest critic. It doesn’t help to have the voices of many people, people who were supposed to love me, in my head constantly at these times.

“Do you think you should wear that?”

“Oh, that dress is so becoming on you!” (Meaning: it hides some of your fat!)

Or my favorite, coming home in an outfit that I felt so good about that I thought I looked adorable in, just to have my mother (and later my husband) say something like:

"Perhaps you should retire that until you lose some weight." or "You actually went out in that?"

(PS - I am divorced and barely speak to my mother)... I'm doing so much better, but I know I'll never be 100% comfortable, and, as with most things, the voices seep in when I'm at my lowest. So I GET IT. I get it big time.

But - on to today.

We have a wedding taking place later this week, so the family has descended like the buzzing locusts they are. The ten women in the bridal party, of all shapes and sizes, are at my house for a get-together, and they began complaining about how ugly the dresses are. (They really aren't the nicest dresses.)

The eight anti-dressers were commiserating when one, we'll call her Obnoixous Bridesmaid (OB), loudly announced that another bridesmaid had to shut up and leave the conversation because she's thin (we'll call her Thin Bridesmaid—TB), and therefore has no business being there. I should point out that TB's contribution to the conversation was the dresses were cheaply made and "is so damn shiny" and, for the record, OB is not thin but not overweight.

So another bridesmaid, who is extremely close with TB, jumped in to defend OB, going on and on about how much she "hates" TB for complaining when "everything" looks good on her. TB looked like she was going to burst into tears but stayed silent. It morphed into four grown-ass women bullying TB, so I stepped in and told them all to shut the fuck up. Minutes later, TB left the room, and I found her in the bathroom in tears, saying she wanted to go home and skip the rest of the events - up to and including the wedding.

I went back to the room where the 4 were still mocking TB, and I told them I was appalled by their behavior and they could shut the fuck up and apologize, or they could leave my house. I was told I should understand because I'm a "big girl," too, and therefore should be on "their" side.

Are we fucking kidding me here?

I should point out that 3 of the 4 asshole bridesmaids are well aware that TB has dealt with a serious eating disorder that stems from being body shamed by grown-ass men in her family when she was a mere child. She's dealt with outright abuse and trauma, and they know how bad it's been. She doesn't walk around mocking other's bodies or bragging about how "good" she looks; in fact, she struggles to feel positive about her looks at all.

Body positivity should be about everyone loving their body, no matter its shape and size, and never subjecting ANYONE else to shame because of theirs. When the fuck did it became "fat chicks have to stick together and fuck them skinny bitches."

I'm so on fire I had to step away before I ended up on the evening news. On a micro-level, I'm disgusted with these people, and this has put a total damper on the wedding events this week.

But on a macro level, I have seen this time and time again. Yeah, our society is fucking horrible when it comes to how it treats fat people, especially fat women, and that should change. But it's as fucking wrong to be skinnyphobic as it is to be fatphobic. Perhaps, ESPECIALLY AS FUCKING WOMEN, we should be uplifting and supportive of one another. PERIOD. Don't we see that the obsession to be thin and eating disorders stem from the same fucking toxic place that shames fat people? That's where it is BORN.

I'm so sick of seeing this trend in everything. Every movement I'm involved with is dealing with this... YES, be proud of YOU, ESPECIALLY if you're in a marginalized or maligned group. YES! DO IT! I've got your back in every way! But don't fucking turn it into an us vs. them... even with people you supposedly love! Don't become the fucking monster you profess to hate.

Is asking for human decency really too much? I'm literally shaking.

We really, really have to do better than this.

[lenreli]

Day 21 - “Yeah, right”

[AO3] Wanted to try out comic/show swap since @alexxuun’s art. 

Hob groans, sitting up as he looks around, irritation rising as he stares at the flat plane of existence, blues and pinks thrown across it like paint. Great, he thinks sarcastically, thinking of the essay he was marking ― he was on a roll even, and now he’s ― at some bullshit, rage simmering under his skin as he walks along, and there’s a familiar― 

Not so familiar, as Hob stares at the flame coat, the paper-white skin, as Dream ― not his Dream, as this other Dream comes up to him, and Hob tilts his head up, looking up at the wild hair, even more than the Dream he knows, the black, starry eyes. “You’re not,” he says.

“Neither are you,” this Dream says, eyes raking over him. “You waited,” Dream says, and ― Hob can spot it right away, the ego this Dream has as he steps closer, a hand coming up to his jaw as he’s looked at like prey, like this Dream― 

“I did,” he says, relaxing into the cold hand, because this Dream expects, because he waited, because he’s devoted, and so this Dream would see him submit ― and perhaps he might even do so, under other circumstances, when his rage isn’t rolling inside, and Hob thinks that he should go back to that underground fighting ring again, as he imagines kissing his Dream in The New Inn, and the other Dream’s hand on his jaw digs in. 

“I could treat you better,” this Dream says, kingly arrogance in his tone. Yeah, right he thinks derisively as he looks up under his lashes as Dream pulls him closer. 

“Could you?” He asks ― and there’s a peculiar feeling, like encroaching, something he can’t define as Dream kisses him, and he falls into the kiss easily, thinking of the red lips of his Dream and not the colourless ones kissing him, and Dream’s fingers tighten on his jaw, bruising, while the other’s arm goes around his waist.

“I will have you only thinking of me,” Dream growls, pulling him flush against him, and Hob happily goes along with the kisses, his hands going up to wild hair, then going down to take off the flame coat, staring at the revealed black tank top in interest. “My Hob, so devoted,” Dream says, pulling him down to the strokes of paint of wherever they are ― and the split-second feeling of something happens again, as he sits on Dream’s lap. 

So soft, so devoted and defanged, Hob resists rolling his eyes, because surely the Hob that this Dream knows has done all the same terrible, abhorrent things he’s done ― and he kisses Dream, chaste at first but slowly getting more dirty just to shut him up. He considers as he whimpers into it, the arrogance, the ego he could easily spot from this Dream, much like the Dream of the past hundreds of years, as Dream’s hands stroke his hair.

There’s only the sound of his breathing, of fabric rustling as Dream lies down on the floor, cold hands touching under his shirt as Hob kisses him, grinding down on the hardness he can feel against his cock. The feeling ― hard to define, but knowing it’s there appears again, and looking up, hidden by his hair, he can see a familiar pair of boots, his Dream’s, and another pair of shoes, black and shiny, making him think of back in the ‘80’s. This Dream’s Hob? 

Dream’s hands trail to his waist, making their way to his lower back and Hob sighs into the kiss, and in a swift movement, Dream’s hands are in one of his hands, slamming it on the floor above Dream’s head and Dream spasms, black eyes wide as they stare up at him, clearly not expecting this to happen. “Dream,” he sighs again, feeling the deity wriggle beneath him and he crushes the other’s wrists lightly, feeling a whimper beneath him before Dream stops. 

“What is―I am a king―” This Dream growls and Hob smirks. 

“And you’re far from the first king I’ve fucked, so save the pearl-clutching for someone else,” he rolls his eyes, other hand going to the leather pants, undoing them swiftly and pulling them down as Dream keeps trying to escape from his hold. “Poor Dream, expecting some easy, submissive lay when I’m not really in a mood to be like that,” he says, grinning meanly, leaning down to bite into Dream’s mouth as his other hand brushes past Dream’s hard cock, two fingers going inside the other’s entrance easily and Dream cries. 

“Hob,” Dream sobs, “you are―my friend,” is mewled against his mouth, and Hob looks up, seeing the figures of the other Dream, his Dream, still as a statue, and the other Hob, hair rust-coloured and with a matching grin on his face before Hob looks back down.

“Sure, but the arrogance you have isn’t gonna make me roll over just because you thought it should be like that,” he breathes, stretching Dream’s inside, slick and leaking for all of his words, as Dream lets out shattered moans, slowly pressing back onto his fingers. “So, here’s your choices, my liege. Either you come on my fingers, or my cock, but choose quickly, unless you want me to decide for you,” he growls, pressing into Dream’s prostate before pulling the fingers out so he can add another. 

Dream’s clothes disappear as the other’s cold body roll into his fingers, and Hob looks up from miles of white skin to see that there are tears in Dream’s eyes, and he raises an eyebrow, twisting his fingers cruelly, satisfied at the way Dream arches into it, other’s cock leaking absurd amounts of pre-come. “Your cock,” Dream says quietly and Hob nods, stretching Dream more, and adding another finger before leaving, and Dream whines, bereft as he opens his jeans. 

This Dream is ― cold, when he enters, feeling slick walls as Dream whines, bucking into him, eyes wet as they stare at him. Hand now free, he grips Dream’s hair roughly, pulling his head back as they kiss and bite into each other’s mouths, “there’s a good Dream,” he whispers, and Dream ― and the whole plane shudders as he fucks into the other, more focused on his own pleasure than Dream’s, who shivers underneath him as he comes. 

“Please, please,” Dream begs, arching into him desperately, and Hob’s afterglow turns straight into mean satisfaction at the lack of arrogance in Dream’s voice, at the way Dream allows himself to be fucked, at the high moans as he uses his softening cock, pulling up Dream’s leg to change the angle to press into the other’s prostate, and everything becomes blurry, indistinct as Dream comes with a wail. 

The next thing he’s aware of, he’s at home, the essay he was still marking in front of his eyes as he stands up, feeling the same wetness that was in the other’s entrance in his pants as he looks around. Blinks in surprise to see his Dream, still as a statue, face red. “My friend! Kind of busy at the moment. Marking, y’know,” he smiles, gesturing at the essay and Dream ― nods, somehow turning even redder. 

“Of―of course,” is all that’s said before Dream disappears.