#sometimes i can hear his voice at the communications center but i know it's all just wind.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Was having some thoughts about Steve joining Hellfire. They are as follows.

I'm thinking maybe they start him off with smaller weekly oneshots. Unbeknownst to Steve they are also still meeting for their regular other campaign, he figures that out later. That Eddie's been writing one shots for him on top of his other bonkers story he's got going and Steve is like "oh 🥺".

BUTTT! during the one shots, all the kids have their moments of being RUDE to Steve. Mike is the worst (cuz I dislike him and his fucking attitude). But everytime one of them is rude to Steve, and it's like legit mean stuff, like them calling him stupid. Things like that. Steve usually kinda gets quiet. And then, whenever the kids do that, Eddie starts making notes in his notebook. Then whoever said the mean thing, their characters die.

Like, Mike gets the worst of it cuz he's just such an ass. But Eddie's got a SYSTEM in these notes okay!!! There are straight tallys, for actually hurtful mean things, there are wiggly tallys for things he can tell are meant to be teasing but that he can tell definitely still kinda hurt Steve a bit. And then there are stars. People get stars for helping Steve along the way.

Be that helping his characters, or just helping him with his math or helping him understand something about the game when Eddie is busy or "distracted". Cuz he legit always notices when people help Steve. Most of the time it's cuz he hears Steve's genuine thank yous. Lucas, and surprisingly Erica, have the most stars, aside from El. Max gets stars sometimes just for back talking Mike's rudes comments with shit like,

"mike what does it matter? we're all about to die anyway. That sphinx is gonna fucking eat us. Who cares. Leave him alone."

Because her and El have of course been invited too. But they've been playing just a LITTLE bit longer so they know a small amount more. El only has stars because she is legit always helpful. Steve has taken to sitting between El and Erica because they're the nicest to him. Lucas usually sits across from him.

Dustin has lots of wiggly tallys cuz he just can't control his mouth sometimes. But one day Mike gets brutally killed again and starts whining about it and Steve has noticed Eddie making little notes. Has no idea what they are. Cuz he doesn't look through other people's notebooks. Thats rude.

Everyone has noticed the notes. No one has asked. They all have theories. And when Eddie is like,

"I'm trying to teach you a lesson. Not my fault you aren't smart enough to figure out what it is." And his voice has such a BITCHY tone when he says it. Because Mike had JUST been hounding Steve for missing "obvious" clues and not being smart enough to figure it out and walking into a trap.

And steve had gone red from his ears all the way down his neck, he also felt bad cuz he'd gotten El's character hurt. And then Mike had been an ass. Steve was upset. So Eddie killed Mike. And then he's whining and Eddie's about to say something else when El speaks up, looks across the table with a scowl and says,

"just be nicer! It's not hard to be nice. Steve is our friend. Be nice to him." And she rolls her eyes at Mike, puts her hand on Steve's arm and is like,

"I will be fine. Will can heal me." And Will pipes up and is like,

"yeah. I can heal her no problem." But it's El's outburst that makes Steve kind of wonder more about the notes Eddie takes.

He'd never ask, and never look. But he stays behind one day to help Eddie clean up, they have weekly games at the community center.

So Steve's staying after and helping with chairs and tables and getting books and dice and things stored away and Eddie's notebook is RIGHT THERE. Open to the page he's always scribbling on. And Steve just sort of... stops. And looks at it. And it's everyone's names with tallys and marks and stars. Erica has wiggly marks AND stars. But mostly stars. Because she helps him with his math almost every game.

Also she "accidentally" let mike get hit with an attack in the game cuz he was being rude. El's is all stars and scrawled under them in Eddie's chicken scratch is,

"She's a literal angel oh my god."

So Steve's eyes are just wandering over this page and his brow is all creased and he doesn't hear Eddie come back until he says,

"figured out what's missing yet?" In that teasing sweet little voice he uses on Steve that makes him feel a little dizzy sometimes, give him butterflies in his stomach, and his whole body jerks and he looks up and Eddie's leaning casually against the wall near the door. And Steve immediately apologizes and Eddie laughs, shakes his head, walks closer. And is like,

"It's okay Steve. But you didn't answer my question." He licks his lips, steps closer. Steve looks back to the notebook for a second and then back to Eddie.

"My names not on there?" He asks, worrying his finger into the table top next to the notebook. And Eddie is nodding.

"Yup." And Steve's like,

"The tallys are about... me?" And he's frowning. But Eddie steps a bit closer, standing next to the table now. And he smiles, all shy and soft and is like,

"yeah Steve. They're about you. Got kinda tired of all the kids talking shit about you. And to you. So I came up with a system. Anyone says anything about you being stupid, I kill them." He grins, wide like the Cheshire cat and Steve feels kinda pinned down by it. Feels kinda hot all over.

"You didn't- have to do that. It's fine. It doesn't bother me. I mean I know I'm not smart." And he just shakes his head and looks at the ground and Eddie kinda slams his hand down on the table, startling him. He looks up and Eddie looks mad. Not at him. Just, mad.

"You're not though. Is the thing. I mean... you're incredibly good at strategy. I know you don't know enough about dnd yet to know this, but you've been a crucial part in winning like, the last three games." Eddie steps closer, his fingertips brushing the back of Steve's hand.

"You're not stupid. You're just smart in different ways." Eddie shrugs. Gives Steve a little lopsided smile.

"You think I'm smart?" He asks, biting his lip to stop the giddy smile that's threatening to spread. Eddie doesn't stop his smile, just lets it go, lets it dimple his cheeks and make Steve's knees weak. And he's like,

"yeah man. Just cuz some jumped up little tweens can't see it doesn't mean I can't. You're kinda hard to miss." He does bite his lip then, fingers playing with his hair, Steve knows he's trying not to hide behind it.

"I just uh-" Eddie clears his throat,

"I'm really petty. And protective. And it's ridiculous cuz you're not even mine but- I just- felt like I had to protect you. Or stick up for you. Or something? I dunno. Feels stupid now that I'm saying it out- oof!" Eddie huffs when Steve slams into him. Arms wrapped around his neck. He may or may not be crying into Eddie's hellfire shirt. But he gives Eddie a squeeze and then pulls back, looks at him, smiles and says,

"I am though." With a little shrug. And Eddie's like,

"you... are?" Confused. And Steve laughs, light and sweet and says,

"Yours. I am yours. If you'll have me. Or want me. Or- mmfph!" Steve's words end in a high pitched hum as Eddie's lips hit his. Just a firm press. His hand on Steve's cheek. He pulls back fast, pink in the cheeks.

"Sorry I just- if you let me have you, Steve. I may never let you go." He chuckles, giddy. Steve snorts, his head falling to Eddie's shoulder for a second before he looks at Eddie, cups his cheek genlty.

"Who says I want you to?" His brows jump, challenging. Eddie goes redder, down to his neck.

"Wanna try that kiss again?" Steve asks.

"God was is bad? I've never- I'm not... good. At that stuff." Eddie cringes. Steve cups both his cheeks until Eddie's wide eyes are staring at him, his cheeks a little squished.

"It wasn't bad. It was kind of perfectly you. But we can get you good at that stuff. You're a fast learner right?" Steve smirks, Eddie's eyes go impossibly wider as he nods aggressively, cheeks squishing even more.

"Yes, sir." Eddie mumbles between his squished lips. Steve nods, once and then moves forward, slowly, determined to show Eddie just how thankful he is for him. How thankful he is that Eddie sees him.

Petty.

And protective.

And Steve's.

[aurorawhisperz]

that’s what you get (e.l.)

contains: swearing, suggestive content, fluff, richie exists..

neighbor!ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE TROPES NOW IM GONNA BE POSTING MORE BY JULY 🦅🦅🦅 ethan is a bit of a meanie in this but he’s still little old him (maybe just gf ethan persona)

some tropes i used are: enemies to lovers, girl next door, forced proximity and best friend’s brother 🙏 (yk allat shit LOL) THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

•

You knew for a fact that Quinn Bailey was your best friend—what made it even better is that you two could communicate through your windows, but one thing you also knew is that you didn’t like her brother, Ethan, he was your age, Quinn was older than you both. He would sometimes cut into your ‘girl talk’ since his room was right beside hers.

“Dammit!” You said as you banged on the door roughly. Your parents weren’t going to be home until tomorrow morning for something important, and you had left your keys inside the house. To make it even worse, it was raining.

A familiar voice startles you and has you snap out of all that stress. “(Name)?” says Quinn, covering herself with a blanket. I think it’s pretty obvious what she was doing just now.

“Quinn!” You called from below, your eyes widen at the sight of her covered body by the window. “I’ll..get back to you! Damn..” You hear her say something to an impatient guy, something about helping a friend—obviously that friend was you.

A few minutes later, she runs out in pink slip-ons and a purple nightgown with an umbrella. “Need help? Holy shit, you are soaking.” Quinn’s eyes widen at the sight of your outfit ruined. “And cold.” You add, then slamming your fist on the wall, “I left my keys inside.”

“Boo, it’s not that hard to knock on our door.” She chuckles, then you roll your eyes, “And deal with your brothers while you get to bang someone tonight? Yeah, right.” Her eyes then dart and she forces a smile out. “Ethan’s not that bad.”

You frown, “Yes, he is.”

“Baby, you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stand Richie anymore.” Quinn complains, then she tugs on the sleeve of your wet cardigan to let you inside her ‘humble home.’

Grateful to be out of the pouring rain, the familiar smell of your best friend’s home fills your nostrils.

You both plop down on the plush couch, and she hands you a towel for your wet hair. Quinn then shoots you a playful smile, “Aside from our ‘interventions’, what did baby bro do this time to get on your nerves?” She asks.

“That’s about it, he wants to be the center of attention even when he’s not wanted.” You let out a sigh.

Quinn’s lips curl into a smirk, and she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “He's just trying to be a part of our bond, in his own misguided way. Ethan’s.. different, he’s fucking awkward and stuff but not around us because he’s more comfortable.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. “I guess I can try to tolerate him a bit more. For you. But he better stay out of our serious conversations.”

Quinn laughs and pulls you into a hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you. “That's the spirit! And don't worry, I'll make sure that jackass knows when to give us our space. Besties have their ways, you know.”

“What ways?” says Richie, holding an ‘I LOVE STAB’ coffee mug. You also know for a fact that you hated him more than Ethan—being the movie geek he is, not that it’s bad, it’s how he takes it too far and even gets touchy with others. “Ways to die.” You mutter, staring deep into his damned soul.

He nods nervously and heads back into his room. “Stay in there!” yells Quinn.

Once the silence has dissolved into thin air, she blurts out, “How about that tension?” Your eyes widen, eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in protest. “Sexual tension?” You repeat, your face going pale.

She nods cheekily, “SEXUAL?” You shriek. Quinn laughs at your reaction.

You then hear Quinn’s name from upstairs, “Ooh, priorities.” She avoids your gaze and then drags you back upstairs, “Q, don’t make me a third wheel tonight.” You roll your eyes as her grip on your arm tightens.

•

“What the hell?” is the first thing that comes out of Ethan’s mouth when Quinn pushes you into her room. “Quinn, and you. Get out!” He narrows his eyes. “E, I’ve got a guy waiting for me to go back.”

“Then tell him to fucking leave?” He shakes his head. “You’re a degenerate, you know that?” Ethan shoots back.

“Well, I’m not a virgin, so you don’t get a say in that.” Quinn lets out a corny smile and shakes her head, you can see Ethan gritting his teeth. “Do you want her to deal with Richie then?” She tilts her head slyly.

He sighs, “No.” she raises her hands and continues “That’s what I thought, love you both!” Quinn exits just as Ethan is about to flip her off.

You sit down on Ethan’s beanbag and all he does is stare.

He scoffs, “What brings you into my lair?” He crunches on a cheeto. You obviously refused to let his taunts get under your skin, “Spare me.” You retorted.

Ethan smirks, enjoying your discomfort, “Mighty (name) finds herself in a bit of a predicament, huh?”

“Unlike you, Eth, I don't have the luxury of living in a perfect little bubble where everything goes my way. So excuse me if I need a moment to think.” You tightly clench your fists.

“Can’t we just tolerate each other’s existence only for a little bit?” You complain, Ethan’s mouth turns into an “O” shape and he sarcastically remarks “Who can go the longest without being an asshole? You or me?”

“Me.” You pridefully chuckle. “This starts now.” He declares.

You have never heard silence quite this loud. The only thing you and Ethan have been doing for the past few minutes is stare at each other. Eye language perhaps?

His lips part at the sight of you.

While you did hate Ethan, there was always something telling you otherwise—you’d find yourself looking through his window, and if you timed it right, even got to see his muscles whenever he changes. (And it was hard to keep a straight face when you’d see it during your conversations with Quinn.)

What snaps you out of that thought is Ethan’s scoff, he then turns his head—then his gaze back to you. “It’s so dumb.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows pinch together in the middle, and your lips purse. “You know how Quinn gets to show off her man all she wants and how she’s so freaked out over everything they do—even when she’s..done those things so many times.” says Ethan.

Ethan then shrugs, “It’s just stupid.”, your eyebrows raise in agreement as you bit the inside of your cheek.

While you did hate Ethan, part of you..or most of you was telling you that he wanted you to give in—but give in to what? Being the muscular little thing he is, it’s hard to maintain your sanity when you see him without a shirt through his window. Practically drooling, but of course, you couldn’t let Quinn know.

Mainly because she’s so ‘Quinn’, she would probably tell him.

Behind the thin walls of her bedroom were sounds quite pathetic, you two burst into laughter up to the point where you both were crying.

You put a hand over your heart and leaned back on the beanbag.

“Are they THAT loud?” You ask, “Very.” He chuckles in response, this might be the only conversation you two could call a genuine conversation.

“This is really pervy of us to do, but we don’t have a choice, not like we can tune them out.” says Ethan as he grabs a Marvel plush and sits next to the beanbag you were on.

“It’s not like me and Quinn could tune you out.” You joke. A genuine smile tugs on the corners of Ethan’s plush lips. “Gee, you’re really being nice right now.” Your words laced with sarcasm tumbled out.

You had spent your entire life making sure Ethan would never fall for you, nor would you fall for him—and you failed.

It was like there’s nobody in the world right now but you two.

“Well, it’s part of the game right?” Ethan said, his eyes, half-lidded, looking up at you. “It doesn’t seem that much of a game anymore.” You kept your eyes on him, and he kept his on you as well.

Silence. Just silence. That was how much reality hurt.

This is also the closest you have ever been. There is only inches between you both, and you are close to giving in. Breaking the silence, “Maybe I should leave now, I’m not cold-” Ethan then stops your lips with a kiss. He pulls away and you are left with the sight of him hovering over you on the beanbag.

You kissed him back even longer, yes, you were kissing your enemy. It felt so wrong—but at the same time, it felt so right.

The smell of lemon zest surrounded you, along with his intoxicating aura. The thought then entered your head.

Hey, what if I just pulled away and ran like crazy?

Just as you’re about to pull away, he insists against your mouth, “Stay.” Ethan said, you could tell from how hot his lips were—he felt the same way. Out of control.

Ethan then turns you both over so that he was on the beanbag and you were straddling him.

His hands were sneaky enough to slide under the back of your shirt. “Just calming your nerves.” says Ethan as he rubs soothing circles on your lower back.

It was his shuddering breath that made you think this was a dream. Being woken up was the last thing you needed. Ethan whines into the kiss, and you smiled against him.

You then pull away with a small gasp escaping your lips when his hips jolt up into yours, your fist slammed against the wall as he did it twice.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” Ethan stammers as he sits up, moving you as well. “No, no! I just got startled. It’s fine, really.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth then his hands grip the sides of your face. Ethan is kissing you once again.

Just kissing, this is the closest you’ll ever get. Maybe you’ll forget about it the next day, or maybe one day—you’ll look back and regret it. The kiss being hot and slow, and his arms wrapping around you.

Ethan slides his arms around you and pulls you closer.

The moment of bliss is then interrupted when Quinn knocks on the door. “Hello? Just making sure nobody’s dead yet.”

“Shit.” You whisper, and you get off Ethan and push him back to his bed.

She enters the room and looks around. “I’m surprised this hasn’t turned into a warzone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan nods, but he’s all shades of pink. “Why are you so red right now?” Quinn tilts her head and squints. His hands move to his face and he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have some decency, we heard you in there.” You grumbled, she then chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “Sorry, if I..” Quinn twirls her red hair with her finger. “Cockblocked you.” She lets out an awful grin then locks the door—closing it.

Now you were definitely in some situation, I guess she’s getting suspicious now. There was nothing in the room aside from the kissing sounds..what else? Ethan’s whining, and your fist hitting the wall..

Wait a minute.

You were completely fucked. Do you and Ethan just forget about it now? Or do you have to keep up the strategy? You weren’t the type to forget such a heated kiss, but what about him?

[ivystoryweaver]

Hello Ivy! Could I please get some headcanons for marital bliss with the Moon Knight system? Congratulations on 1000! 🌹

Moon Boys Marital Bliss

.✧ ˚ Being married is getting to hang out with your best friend all the time˚ · .✧

Heyyy, thank you so much, I love this prompt!

fluff, domestic life, romance, slightly suggestive, gn Word Count: 625

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Steven loves having someone to come home to - someone who made vows to him. It's very grounding for him after a quite confusing existence previously.

Sometimes he gets distracted during his work day just imagining you walking in the door - your scent drifting down the hallway, the timbre of your voice - the allure of your eyes

The cool weight of his wedding band anchors him when he is apart from you and often so easily dismissed by others.

He’ll smile to himself and rub his thumb across it, imagining the way your eyes will sparkle with excitement to see him.

He can’t wait for chance to pull you into his arms and bury his nose in the spot just behind your ear. “Missed you, love.”

Steven is your menu-planning, vegan-shopping, bumping-elbows-while-washing dishes buddy. Dinner is always an adventure (and a mess) with this one.

You’ve never flirted so much while doing chores.

Steven makes life interesting, like an exploration. He's always seeking something - wanting to know more about the world around him, the history before him, and everything that makes you tick, that makes you happy, that makes you fall apart in his bed.

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Marc is so so neat. His past taught him to blend in, fade away, disappear into the background

You hear a groan if your jacket hits the chair when you get home. You gladly pick it up because you hate cleaning the bathroom and Marc keeps it spotless

Showers with Marc are sweet or spicy. He always washes your back, caresses your skin and kisses you senseless. It's your favorite place to have his undivided attention.

You love bumping shoulders with him while you brush your teeth. He is a nonverbal communicator, so you relish the chance to watch him the mirror. Those smoldering brown eyes will rake over your form, whether you're in an oversized t-shirt or your best outfit. (or nothing at all)

It's lovely having someone organized and clean - it takes some pressure off, and it's a relief to not have to pick up after someone sloppy.

Marc is intense and devoted - you're the center of his universe and you know it. You could go an entire day without him speaking a word, and you still know. Long fingers brush your arm, heated kisses fall on your neck, longing gazes set you on fire.

And nothing shows you his intensity and devotion more than when you spend all night in his arms.

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Ever since you moved into a house with a garage, Jake is in his own little heaven.

You never took your husband for a "man cave" kind of guy, but he loves to tinker with his car, have a drink, watch baseball and get into all sorts of projects

Sometimes you catch him with grease smudged on his forehead - somehow Jake makes any look sexy

He teaches you how to take care of your car - change a tire, stuff like that

Sometimes you bring him a beer and hang on to him. He secretly waits for you to do this - for you to seek him out, to cling to him, to need him

And you do need him. Jake loves to take care of you but he fully understands you can take care of yourself. The trust you give him means everything to him. No one has ever trusted him before now, or even really known him.

He loves the privacy the garage affords him - it helps him recharge his personal battery. But before too long, he'll always conveniently want to show you a thing or two - before he does a thing or two to you in the back seat of his car

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[starry-eyes-love]

Chapter 3: Even Tough Hearts Break Under Pressure

Masterlist

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader (18+, Minors DNI)

Summary | While healing up from your miscarriage, Joel and you have some tender moments alone in the bedroom, one of which spirals Joel out of control emotionally where he has a panic attack outside You see a side of Joel you’ve never seen before and you honestly don’t know what to make out of it.  One thing’s for certain you realize that even the toughest of hearts will break under pressure. 

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI, reference to miscarriage (slight at the beginning), language, fluff, angst while person (Joel) is having a panic attack, sexual references, age gap (no age stated in this chapter), slow burn, reference to smut without having smut, reference to child dying previously (slight), slight pregnancy reference (if you squint), reference to rough sex (if you squint), tender moments, sweet name calling (baby, honey, sweet girl, darlin’, etc), descriptions of body type, argument between Ellie and Joel. 

Word Count: 6k

“Joel, honey. Are you ok?” you said as you slowly ran your hand up and down the center part of his chest. As you did you saw his eyes snap open and look at you sternly. His breathing quickened again and you felt his cock strain and twitch hard against your leg, one that you slyly placed in-between his legs.   

Joel was nice and gentle with you when you went through horrible pain and bleeding from a miscarriage. You finally passed a large sized blood clot on the fifth night, and it was then that your pain and bleeding had finally started to slow down a bit so you could rest.  You were still really dizzy and lightheaded, Joel said that was because you were anemic from all the blood loss that had happened. You were hemorrhaging really bad for the first few days and finally you were grateful that your bleeding slowed down to a regular period flow. Joel told Ellie and you that until you felt well enough to travel, the three of you were going to stay in the cabin. 

During the course of the next week, Ellie tried convincing Joel that the three of you needed to stay at the cabin until spring. One evening you had heard Joel and Ellie get into a horrible heated argument about it. You were laying in one of the queen sized beds sleeping when all of a sudden you were startled awake hearing Ellie yell “the snow is too deep Joel, we’re gonna get fucking hypothermia and die if we try going through it.”

You heard Joel yell back "Ellie, lower your voice and watch your god damn language. And for the record, we're sitting ducks out here, if someone shows up we're all dead." 

“No one knows we’re here Joel, no ones been through here in like over 10 years or else this place would have been picked clean.”

“Ellie, you don’t know that. We’re now using the fireplace. People can see the smoke, and you know what that means” Joel said with a slight bite in his voice.

“You know what Joel, have you ever heard of the saying take the positive thing that life throws at ya, huh? This is positive Joel, a fucking gold mine if we allow it. And for the record, we’re dead if we leave anyways so it doesn’t matter. So why not make it easier on all of us, huh? Let us stay-”

You heard Joel yell back “Don’t back talk to me, what I say goes, remember? You agreed and plus I’m the adult and you’re the god damn child. Remember, the rules I have are the things that have kept us all alive. But you know what, if ya don’t like it you can leave at anytime. I won’t fucking stop ya.”

“You know what Joel, fuck you” you heard Ellie scream at him and then storm past your bedroom door and slam the door to her bedroom. 

With your eyes closed you slowly exhaled at hearing that full argument.  Sometimes you just wished Joel would stop running his fucking mouth and listen for a second. Ellie may be a teenager, and she may not have been communicating it perfectly, but she was right.  When you didn’t hear any more commotion in the living room you decided to attempt to relax into the mattress to get some more sleep. You figured you could address this problem later when you had a little more energy. You were exhausted still sleeping about 16 hours a day right now, and your skin still looked really pale in color from all the blood loss.  

After a moment of relaxing you felt that familiar sag of the mattress next to you, followed by two knees creaking and a huff from Joel as his back muscles tensed. Joel had been sharing a room with you ever since the two of you started sleeping here at the cabin because of how sick you had gotten. Joel would only leave your side during the day to go get food, scout the area, etc. while Ellie would lay with you in the bed and watch you. 

You were laying on your side facing the middle of the bed when Joel had laid down.  After a moment of allowing him to get settled you decided to slowly open your eyes and look at him. He was laying on his back looking straight up at the ceiling, brows scrunched together tight like he was in deep thought.

“You know, she’s right” you said after a moment while looking at Joel.

Joel exhaled slowly and said “yeah I know she’s right about the snow. But I don’t like having to stay here just in case people show up.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about Joel” you had said. “Yes, she’s right about that, but I’m talking about when she told you to fuck off. She was right to tell you that.”

You watched Joel turn on his side to face towards you and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear while saying “now why did ya go and say something like that darlin?” 

“You know why” you say curling yourself up tighter as a shiver runs down your spine. You kept getting periodic shivering episodes recently, like you couldn’t get warm enough, even if you were sleeping right next to the fire.  Joel saw this and tucked himself closer to you draping the blanket he had over himself overtop of your other blanket, in an attempt to help conserve your body heat.  As he did that he said, “enlighten me sweet girl, why is she right?” 

“She’s right in calling you an asshole and telling you to fuck off” you said as your body slowly started to warm up.

“She never called me an asshole darlin’” he said quietly as he tucked you in closer to his chest for you to go to sleep.

“No, you’re right” you said with a yawn as you snuggled closer into the warmth and safety of his chest. “I called you that, and it’s still the truth.”

You heard Joel silently laugh out loud while saying “you’re awfully sassy for someone who’s always so tired. Now go to sleep sweet girl, ya need your rest.”  And with that you started drifting off to sleep. Right before you fell fully asleep you thought you heard Joel say, “and for the record, you’re both right.”

The next day Ellie gave Joel the silent treatment. Joel felt a lot of remorse as he didn’t mean to tell Ellie that she should leave. In fact, the only reason why he had said what he said was because at the time he was upset that Ellie wouldn’t listen to him, but he was still wrong for saying what he said. By the end of the next night, Joel and Ellie had finally made up all the way were they were back to their normal selves bantering back and forth. After listening to Ellie, and hearing Joel spend most of the previous night not sleeping, Joel had finally caved and agreed to stay there in the cabin for the next few months until spring hit. Ellie was right, trying to hike across the mountains in the middle of the winter in the snow proved to be very difficult, especially this winter as Mother Nature kept dumping large amounts of snow onto the landscape. Joel couldn't complain much as his back and knees were killing him from traipsing through the wilderness in at least 10 feet or more of unpacked snow all the time. So you three decided to stay until spring.

When you started feeling better both Ellie and you had started going through the rooms and going through storage containers to find out what you all had for supplies. Joel went out scouting further around the perimeter to see what was around and if it truly was safe. From what you figured, the cabin was abandoned and hadn't had anyone living in it for a very long time, like 10 years or more.  There were a total of 3 rooms with beds, a whole pile of clothes left behind, which all three of you grabbed, several weapons, and some canned food. Two bedrooms had queen size beds, and one room had a twin bed. All three mattresses still looked good for being older. Joel and you continued to share a room together until you were finally well enough not to need constant care. One afternoon Joel had walked into the bedroom you both shared and he saw that you were starting to pack up your bag to head to your own room. 

"Think you're well enough to be in your own room tonight?" Joel asked as he watched you pack up your stuff. 

"Your back is hurting you and you've barely slept Joel, you need your rest" you replied.

"Back's not hurtin' that much darlin'. You can stay in this one with me….or…I’ll move if you want me to" he said softly.  He secretly was hoping that you’d agree to stay and keep sleeping next to him. 

Your back was turned when he said this but you felt your heart ache for how soft he sounded. You wanted to say yes to staying with him in the same room but you also knew Joel. One minute he could be warm, friendly, loving, caring and the next he could be quiet, moody, and cold. You used to be afraid of him, but through time you learned to love this insanely big old broody man that you were traveling with. So you contemplated your answer, and then settled for trying something new as a response, because honestly you needed a break from the on again off again relationship you two were having.  You wanted him to see you, to yearn for you, to need you all the time, just like you needed him. But he was always stuck in that god forsaken head of his, getting in the way of his feelings and desires. So one time he would be nice and then the next not so nice. 

“Joel, honey" you said with a soft and tender voice. "I know your back is hurting you badly baby, and I don’t like seeing you restless while you’re sleeping. You’ve hardly gotten any sleep since we’ve gotten here. How about, for just a few nights, I sleep in one of the other rooms so you can get some proper rest, huh? And then if you want, I can come back and sleep next to you. How does that sound?” 

The two of you remained in silence as you finished up packing your stuff. You’ve never used pet names with him before, not ever.  He was always using them on you. You didn’t know if you were poking the bear, where an explosion would happen, or if the use of those names was something that he would like. As the silence continued, you felt your heart hammering harder in your chest waiting for Joel's reaction. After 2 minutes of silence, which honestly felt more like 2 hours by how nervous you felt, you finally turned around and looked at him. But what you saw was not what you were expecting.

As Joel stood there looking back at you, he was honestly shocked at what you had said to him, at what you called him. Those words, 'honey' and 'baby,' kept going over and over through his head. Those were the same words that he called you, but it felt different to hear them from your lips, it felt deeper and more passionate. At first, when he heard those words he felt upset because the last person who had said those things to him was Sarah’s mom, and he didn’t want to remember or think of her right now. 

While he continued to stand there in silence, he slowly started looking up and down your body, really admiring your features. Your eyes, both fierce but yet kind and beautiful. He could get lost looking into those beautiful brown eyes of yours. Your lips; nice, soft, and plump. Lips that he missed kissing, but also ones that he loved hearing those filthy words and sass come out of. You were a pistol to deal with, but he loved every minute of it. Your beautiful curves, ones that he craved to touch, to feel underneath his calloused fingers. Curves he craved to intertwine his body with, nip and bite along. Curves that temporarily carried his child. Something he didn’t think would ever happen again, but something that he desperately wanted to do again with you. But that was a feeling he kept hidden behind his tough exterior. And then there was your ass. God, you had a gorgeous ass. He wondered what it would feel like to smack, grab, and take it from behind. He wondered what sounds you would make when he could finally fuck you properly in a bed, like the one you were currently standing next to.

The longer he looked, the more tension started to fill the air between you two. He noticed that you looked at him confused at first, but then he saw you slowly scan him up and down too. His hands flexed at his sides, as a way to ease the sexual tension that he was feeling. He hadn't relieved himself  for a while, and he knew he'd need to soon. But somehow touching himself didn't feel as good anymore compared to being buried inside of you. He ground his teeth while inhaling and exhaling slowly. He was struggling, struggling not to give in to his animal instinct. He wanted to grab you, slam you up against the wall and fuck you hard. He had a desperate need to consume you, to make you his in every possible way. But he couldn’t, not with Ellie a few feet away in another room.

When he noticed your eyes stopped moving and that you were staring at his hips, he knew what you were seeing. His cock was rock hard and straining hard against his pants. It didn't help that his pants were also tighter on his toned legs and ass. He always had a construction worker's build because he used to do construction all those years ago. He took good care of his body, though his tummy wasn't as hard as it once was. He was a man in his 50s, with salt and pepper hair, bad knees, and a back that was always sore. His body had some wear and tear with it, that was for sure, but he still knew how to please a woman. And by the way you were looking at him, he was about two seconds from throwing all logical thought out of the window and just fall into bed with you and properly worship your body the way you so desperately needed and deserved. 

As he stood there admiring you he felt his cock twitch in his pants. It was desperate and needy for some attention and you looking straight at it while licking your lips wasn't helping him. After a moment of watching you he had to take a steadying breath. He had to calm down before he lost all logical thought and give in to this need to have you. He closed his eyes to try to relax, to will the tension in his muscles to relax so his cock would stop twitching and throbbing so bad. He knew it wouldn’t take long for him and if he wasn’t careful, he'd have to explain to you of why it only took a few strokes before he came undone in front of you. He knew he'd be coming like a god damn horny teenager, and this fact alone made him feel embarrassed. He wasn't a teenager that could only last for a few pumps, he was a man that knew what women needed and wanted. But somehow with you in this room, looking the way that you were looking and standing next to that bed, his thoughts were racing like a 14 year old adolescent horny boy. 

With his eyes closed he could sense your approach. Your warmth surrounded him, gave him protection and peace in a life that had none of that anymore. He could smell your sweet flower scent. Something that used to drive him nuts as he didn’t know where you had that scent from, until he realized that it was just you. He also could smell your arousal, it smelled citrusy and fruity, but not in a bad way. It was just the hint of it in the air. Most people could never smell things like that, but that was one of the many gifts Joel had with women. This gift he remembered he had as a teenager, and it was a bitch going through school with teenage girls who struggled with arousal all day long. But yours was different. It called to him in a different way. 

As you approached Joel, you saw him tense, and his breathing changed to becoming labored. God, he looked like he was in pain, and you didn’t understand why just calling him honey and baby would do that. Maybe it was a tick about Joel that was a turn on, but you knew that wasn’t it either. Something was going on in that brain of his and you couldn’t tell what it was. You knew better than to pry though. Joel can sometimes be such a big pain in the ass you thought, especially when feelings were involved. But that was a different conversation with him on a different day, when you were feeling up to wanting to try to crack through that tough exterior of his.

“Joel, honey. Are you ok?” you said as you slowly ran your hand up and down the center part of his chest. As you did you saw his eyes snap open and look at you sternly. His breathing quickened again and you felt his cock strain and twitch hard against your leg, one that you slyly placed in-between his legs.  

While you were up close to Joel and you saw it in his eyes that he looked absolutely wrecked. He was twitching hard beneath his pants, and you figured that his pained expression was coming from the hardness between his thighs. When was the last time this man truly took care of himself you thought. You wanted to reach out and help relieve that ache he was having, but with Ellie just a few feet outside of the door, you knew that you couldn't right now. So to help soothe him you took both of your hands and rubbed them slowly down both of his arms. As you did that you watched him take a shaky breath. When you got to his hands, you gently squeezed them and then whispered softly in his ear, “baby, you gotta relax, you’re way too tense.” Then you released your hands and took a step back to give him some room to breathe.

Joel stood there and glared at you for a moment, and then he took his hand and ran it down the length of his face exhaling with a shaky breath saying “I can’t relax baby.” He then looked around the room, as if thinking intently about something, before he dropped his eyes back down at you, and then the floor. After a few moments of silence, Joel nodded his head and reached down to picked up his pack. Then while walking out of the bedroom he said “you can take this room, I’ll take the one across the hall.” You watched him throw his pack in the room across the hall and then stormed outside, right past Ellie who gave him a quip about how hard he was breathing. He never looked at her nor said anything to either of you in return. He just left the cabin by slamming the door.

After Joel had left, Ellie had turned to you frustrated and said “what’s up his ass today?” You gave a gentle smile because you knew. It was you that created the tension at the moment and you smiled to yourself knowing it. Joel didn’t yell at you because he wanted the attention you gave him. It was in this moment you understood, his outbursts at you periodically were coming from a man who didn’t know how to relax or how to process his emotions or need for you. You could tell by the way he looked wrecked in the bedroom and his cock twitching hard against your leg that he wanted you badly, but you weren't going to explain that to Ellie. You kept this knowledge to yourself. So while standing there looking at the outside door where Joel had just stormed out moments ago you said with a smirk to Ellie “I've honestly got no idea."

Joel's POV:

 I can't fucking do this, I can't fucking do this anymore, Joel thought to himself as he stormed out of the cabin.  He felt his heart race and beat hard against his chest, too hard. He felt the panic set into his mind. Thoughts of I can’t keep her safe, this isn’t gonna work kept running through him at an alarming fast pace. With each stomp of his boot in the snow, another panicked thought would emerge. He had to get away, away from the cabin in order to just think, even for just a second. 

His body was drenched in nervous sweat, and his mind was racing, thinking about all the ways he couldn’t keep you safe.  He was panicking. Joel Fucking Miller was having a god forsaken panic attack. Something that he hasn't had for a very long time, and something he doesn't remember how to cope with.  He was broody, an asshole to you because he needed to keep his heart guarded.  He couldn’t just let anyone in because if he did, he would feel these emotions rise to the surface and drown him.  That feeling that he couldn’t keep his loved ones safe, and it paralyzed him.

He remembered he couldn’t stop the depression that happened with Sarah’s mom, and she left him when Sarah was 6 months old.  His love for Tess, he couldn’t stop her from getting infected and leaving this Earth when she did.  And then there was Sarah, his baby girl. He couldn’t stop that bullet from killing her.  He remembered cradling her in his arms as she took her last breaths. How he thought he had failed as her father because he couldn’t keep her safe from the pain of this world.  How he had broken his promise to her from the day she was born telling her ‘you ain’t gotta worry little one, daddy will always be here to protect you. I promise little girl, I will always be there to save you if you fall.’  And now, he felt the panic hit him hard again as he remembered that he couldn’t save her, and how he almost lost you. How the hell was he going to save you and keep you safe when he couldn't even save his little girl.

Joel was about half a mile from the front door of the cabin when his legs finally gave out and he hit the snow with a hard thud as he fell to his knees.  He heard himself let out a broken sob as tears finally streamed down his face at the feeling of losing yet another baby a few weeks ago. He didn't allow himself to feel anything while you went through your miscarriage, you tucked into his chest for warmth and safety. He held you, let you cry it out, and listened to you as your heart ached for losing a baby, his baby. 

He never intended to knock you up that night. It was his birthday and he was lonely for the warmth of a woman, he was lonely for you. God he craved you so bad, still does. That night you were threatening to leave and he couldn’t live with himself if you left him because you thought he hated you. He adored you, and honest to God he was starting to fall in love with you.  

And when he finally realized his deep feelings for you it scared the living hell out of him because he knew he shouldn’t open his heart again like this to someone in this world. He couldn’t help it though, you were so kind, gentle, and pure. You were the one thing that could calm his internal storm, the one that was now raging out of control within him.  He thought that if the world hadn’t gone to shit he would have asked you out on a date and courted you properly. You two would have gotten to know each other properly and then eventually the two of you would may have slept together in his bed, in his pickup truck, on the dryer, on the couch, in the garage, etc.  Hell, he even thought that maybe if everything would have been right, he would have asked you to move in and then maybe even eventually marry him, if you’d have him. But the problem was he wasn’t living in that type of world anymore.  There were no more dates at the movies, no more late night huggin’, kissin’, or fuckin’ in his truck.  There were no more proposals or no more marriage ceremonies with honeymoons.  There were no more trying to start a family or surprise pregnancy positive tests. There was no more holding your hand through pregnancy and watching his child be born.  There were no more barbecues on a Saturday, where kids would play in the yard and all the adults would sit outside, slowly sipping beer, talking about work and what their kids were up to.  There was none of that anymore in this world, and knowing this killed him inside.  It killed him inside because he didn’t want this current hell of life for you.  It didn’t matter to him, yes he missed life before but what killed him the most was knowing that he couldn’t give any of those milestones to you. He wanted a life with you and a family, but he couldn’t risk getting you pregnant again because it would mean death if it didn’t work out right.  

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there on the ground with his knees in the snow.  He couldn’t feel his lower legs anymore, the sting had finally subsided but he didn’t care.  His eyes hurt from crying, but not as much as his heart hurt for you and the world you were living in. He was so lost in his own head that he never heard you approach him.

Female Reader’s POV:

After Joel stormed out of the cabin Ellie had played the 20 questions game with you trying to understand why Joel was upset. "Why did he storm out, what did you say to him, why is he always so moody with you, what were you guys doing?" With each question she asked your answer were always the same, "I don't know" or "we weren't doing anything, we were just talking."

After almost an hour of Joel being gone you started to get slightly worried. Something’s not right, you thought.  Joel usually never leaves for this long of a period of time without checking in or saying where he's going.  You stood up and looked over at Ellie and said “Kid, I’m gonna go see where Joel’s gone to, he’s been gone a little too long. Stay here, keep yourself safe.” As you left you noticed that Ellie was still ranting about men and how irritating they can be when you had grabbed your gun and walked out the door going to go search for Joel.

As soon as you stood outside you tried to see where Joel had gone. When you didn't see or hear him you felt panic set in for a moment. Where did he go, you thought. You started looking around in the snow to see where his footprints went.  When you didn’t see any right by the cabin you started walking in a circle around the cabin look for prints.  You happened to catch snowy footprints about 100 feet from the cabin’s front door and as you approached them you noticed that they were Joel’s.  You decided to follow them to see where he went and you had to walk for a bit, winding between trees, before you came up upon him. You saw that Joel was on his hands and knees on the ground.  At first you froze, wondering if he was sick or hurt.  But then you heard him let out a broken sob and him saying “why does this hurt so much when they leave.”  Without even thinking about what had happened you quickly made your way over to Joel. When you got by his side you got down on your knees, grabbed him, and slammed his body hard against yours into a firm and tight hug. “Shh, it’s okay, No one’s going anywhere baby. We’re all staying right here with you. I’m staying right here with you. I ain’t leavin’ you.” And when you told him that last line that you weren’t leaving him you felt him fall apart more in your arms. 

You sat there holding Joel firmly in your arms, rocking him side to side, kissing his forehead, and brushing his hair away from his forehead. You had never seen Joel this broken before. He has always been the one person who's held it together all the time. He's always been the rock that Ellie and you have leaned against when things seemed hopeless. He's been the shoulder you two have cried on multiple times when the world has given you an unfair turn of events. He's been both of your protectors, knowing just what needed to be done. And he's been the biggest moodiest thorn in both of your sides constantly yelling at you both to have a firm upper lip. And yet now he’s here falling apart like a child in your arms and you didn't know what to do.

Joel had clung onto you for about 10 minutes, you were his lifeline that was tethering him to this Earth as sob after sob came out from his mouth.  Joel Miller was falling apart in your arms and no matter what you said to him it wouldn’t quiet his sobs. So you just sat there holding him until he quieted himself down and cried all of his emotions out.  What you didn’t know at the time was he was crying for Sarah’s mom, crying for his daughter that he lost, for Frank and Bill, for Tess, for the baby he just lost with a miscarriage, for Ellie, for Tommy, and also for you.  He carried a large weight on his shoulders, never processing or dealing with his emotions until now.

After he was done he had pulled himself back and wiped the tears from his eyes saying “fuck, here I go yellin’ at you for always being so damn emotional when I’m sittin’ here cryin’ like a god damn baby that’s just been born.”

“No Joel, I think you’re cryin’ worse than that” you say with a slight smirk on your face.

He looks over at you with a slight scowl and states “thanks darlin’. You’re making me feel so much better” as he laughs slightly shaking his head while getting up from kneeling down in the snow.  

“Just trying to lighten the mood, Joel” you say softly.  Then you add “Joel, are you ok? I mean you were falling apart, I don’t know what it was all about but you obviously were dealing with some heavy shit. I know you may not want to talk, but you know.”  You stopped and stared at him, not finishing the sentence of 'you know you could talk about it with me if you want.'  

You noticed that Joel started to slowly grind his teeth again while thinking. He kept giving you periodic glances while brushing the snow off from his pants. He had walked over to pick up his gun and was checking it. You noticed that he kept periodically looking over at you, as if studying you a bit before he responds. You do everything you can to keep yourself calm for him, but you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Joel can either run hot or cold, and you don't know which way he was going to run right now, and all you hoped for was that it wasn’t cold.

Joel mulls over in his head what had just happened. He thought he was alone so he finally let his guard down fully, and allowed himself to feel everything that's been happening. He didn't think it had been that long he was gone, but he could tell by the initial look on your face that he was gone too long. He couldn't blame you for coming to look for him, hell he would have done the same thing. But God he felt embarrassed. Men his age are not supposed to fall apart like that and he didn't want you to think he was weak. He wanted you to think that he was strong, that he could carry the weight of this world on his shoulders and give you a safe place. 

So after checking his ammo, Joel eventually placed the gun over his shoulder with the strap resting on his shoulder while reaching out to you with one hand and says "come m'er.”  You stood there puzzled for a moment at his statement, cocking your head as you didn't understand what he just said or wanted. When you didn't do what he asked, with a little bit more bite in his voice he said “darlin’, don’t make me say it again, I said Come. Here” as he pulled you into a deep hug. 

At first you stand there rigid not knowing what to do as you don’t want to upset him, honestly you are in unfamiliar terrority. Yes, Joel will hug you like this when you fall apart, but you’ve never dealt with Joel falling apart before. Joel could feel your rigid muscles and you hear him sigh against you, and you know by that sigh that he’s rolling his eyes at you being so tense.  So you finally relax yourself into his embrace and allow yourself to be consumed by his presence. You hum quietly into his chest feeling content as you smell him. He smells like pine, musk, cinnamon, sweat, and Joel; your favorite smell.  Right before he pulls you away he says “you mean everythin’ to me darlin’. Don’t you ever forget that, m’kay.”  Then he pulls away from you and turns to walk back to the cabin alone.  

After a moment of watching Joel walk up ahead of you, you go and pick up your gun that was against the tree, you check it like Joel has taught you, and then you trek back up the hill alone towards the cabin.  When you finally reach the cabin you hear Ellie talking with Joel asking if he could help her get some firewood and start the fire in the fireplace because she was cold.  He mumbles to himself stating "of course you’re cold" then he goes and grabs the ax.  You offer to help him but he says “no baby, I got it, thank you though darlin'" and then he walks off alone to go chop down a few trees for firewood.  When you hear him chopping at a tree a few feet into the woods you glance over at Ellie who looks at you and says “what the hell was that? And did Joel just say 'thank you' like what the fu-"

“I don’t know Ellie" you said interrupting her. "I have no idea” is all you say as you both glance towards the sound of Joel chopping down the tree. Truthfully you don’t know what the hell happened. You had never seen that side of Joel ever before, and you didn’t know if that was something that you were supposed to see. All you knew was that it now was going to be a few interesting months until spring, and honestly you couldn’t wait to see what would happen in this cabin by the woods. 

-End Chapter-

Author Note:  Thanks guys for reading this one. I know this one is mostly filler, but I wanted you guys to get a glimpse inside their heads as characters more and a chance for them to develop. I'm enjoying writing this and they're definitely more Chapters in the future.  The next chapter is going to get spicy again with both Joel and the female reader.

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark

[lady-harrowhark]

Would you mind. Explaining what the heck the locked tomb (is this the name?) is about. You post a lot of it and I know ✨ nothing ✨ but it sounds kinda interesting??? Into dumping is ok if you feel like lol

I would LOVE to explain what The Locked Tomb is and you DID get the name right and it IS interesting!

So, it's a book series written by Tamsyn Muir and three of the anticipated four books have been released so far. I say "anticipated four books" because it was originally a trilogy but then the last book was split up. I don't think any of us would mind if that happened again and it turned into a five book series. But I digress.

These books are notoriously hard to describe because they sort of encompass or transcend genres. It's a sci-fi fantasty horror murder mystery romcom situation. Plus, there's a LOT going on - I've often described them as an "intellectual escape room." There's so much happening that you don't realize is happening until it all comes together. Going back to the beginning after you've finished them is an entirely different experience than your first read because you can see how it was all laid out from the start - sometimes even in plain sight - and things take on completely different meanings. Also, each book is very different from the others. I adore all of these qualities.

So here's the gist of the premise for the first book:

Gideon Nav, orphan of mysterious origins, has been raised on the Ninth House as an indentured servant and trained as a swordswoman. The Ninth House has become isolated from the rest of the empire and its very existence is threatened by the dwindling population and lack of resources. Gideon is one of only two survivors of her generation, the other children having succumbed to a lethal illness when she was an infant. The other survivor is Harrowhark Nonagesimus, the Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, and the two have been at each other's throats their entire lives. Harrow's parents' deaths have been hidden from the rest of the Ninth (save for Gideon and a few of the Reverend Family's attendants) and Harrow has been secretly ruling in their stead for the past seven years, doing her best to keep the Ninth from falling into ruin. Harrow is a prodigious necromancer, specializing in working with bones. The Ninth receives a message from the Emperor requesting that each House send their heir and cavalier primary (a.k.a swordsman/bodyguard) to his home at the First House, where they are to attempt to piece together the process to becoming a Lyctor, one of his immortal Saints. Unfortunately, Harrow's cavalier has skipped town. Gideon begrudgingly accepts a deal meaning that she will pose as Harrow's cavalier in exchange for freedom from servitude. Upon arriving at the First House, the two meet the other Houses' heirs and their cavaliers and are informed that they will have to figure out the secret to Lyctorhood on their own, and that there will absolutely no communication with the outside empire. It's not long before someone turns up dead... and then another...

What immediately hooked me on the first book was the voice and tone; Gideon is a delightfully snarky narrator. Despite the humor, these books do not pull any punches with regard to emotional depth. Love and grief are at the center of everything these books do, circled by sacrifice and duty and gender and colonialism and religion.

This review is actually one of my favorite things to send to people to pitch them the books. It does a fantastic job of conveying both the premise and the tone of Gideon the Ninth. I also wrote a "pitch your fandom" piece that @wilfriede recorded and recently released. You can find both the audio and the transcript at this link.

I hope that gives you a sense of the series, and thank you for giving me the opportunity to ramble about the series that permanently altered my brain chemistry! If you ever get around to reading them, I would love to hear your thoughts :)

[use-yr-voice]

Having suffered through three elections with this orange buffoon, I am proud to say that I never once voted for him. I never supported him. I never agreed with him, not on anything.

All he’s got is hate. All his enablers and supporters have is hate.

Here’s the thing about hatred: it’s weak. Hatred stems out of nothing but bitterness, misery, fear, and despair. Hatred festers in ignorance and it thrives on pettiness. Hatred provides the illusion of unity and of solidarity, but it ultimately collapses any alliance based exclusively upon it.

Let them take all of our branches of government. Let them pack the supreme courts with zealots and abusers. Sooner or later they will turn on each other. Sooner or later there will be schisms and schemes and back-stabbings. Whatever was created in hate will be consumed by hate.

Now let’s talk about strength. There is strength in love- yeah, I get that “loving your enemy” might be the farthest thing from anybody’s mind right now- but start with those closest to you. Hell, start with yourself. It’s love that forges the strongest bonds of all, love that turns a pair of strangers into a family, love that makes a community worth living in. When a partnership of any kind is centered around love- platonic, romantic, brotherly, sisterly, familial- that is strength. That will endure.

The people who have a problem with who you love? How loving are they? How many divorces have they had, how many of their children have they alienated, how many people avoid even talking to them? If they don’t get how a 1:1 relationship is supposed to work, how can they be of benefit to their community?

They are defined by their weaknesses because they have no true strength. Love takes strength. Accepting that others love differently takes strength.

Hope takes strength. Hope is not something you abandon when things don’t go the way you want them to. Hope is something you need to nurture and feed and keep alive. Sometimes all we can hope for is that people see the error of their ways. We hope that they will learn and grow as human beings.

Faith takes strength. I don’t mean religious faith here. What I mean is faith that people will ultimately do the right thing. Today my faith has been put to the test. My faith was also put to the test in 2016. But I refuse to accept that every American has a heart filled with hatred. I refuse to give in to despair. Over the past eight years, I have seen so many acts of courage and of compassion and of generosity that my faith is still intact even today.

Sometimes faith is simply knowing that you aren’t alone. I’m just a voice to you, but I am not the only voice there is. You’ll hear many, many others. When we say keep the faith? This is what we mean.

Root yourself firmly in love. Someone. Something. Be a part of something however small. Know that you are only a part and that you’re not the totality of it. Learn not so much to be dependent or independent, but interdependent. Understand that it takes many parts to complete the whole. You are loved and you are valued. You belong.

[toxicanonymity]

Corey C. from the call center (one shot)

Words: 4.5k | Corey Cunningham 🥹 x Fem!Reader

Sub!Corey,kinda. Shy, brooding, meowmeow!Corey, post-accident, pre-Michael.

Summary: You start talking to Corey when he's working at the call center and you call in. You invite him over for Halloween 💕. [In Halloween Ends, Corey's mother threatens to send him back to work at the call center when she thinks he was injured at Prevo]

You take Corey’s jacket and for the first time see his strong, expansive chest.  He notices you noticing, and he assumes he has something on his shirt.  He looks down at himself and brushes nothing off his chest then smiles shyly and tucks a wild curl behind his ear.  You welcome him to sit on the couch with you.  He sits upright, awkwardly.  You can tell he's going to need some encouragement. 

18+ EXPLICIT

mdni

You recently moved into your own little house.  It’s the first time you’ve lived on your own, and you’re far from where home used to be.  Right after college, you lived with a partner who would call the landline every day after you got off work to make sure you came straight home.  When that ended, you stayed with family for a while, then moved to Haddonfield for a fresh start.  The weather felt cold and bleak at first, compared to the deep South, but the town seemed to have a real sense of community, almost like perfect strangers were trauma-bonded.  

Still, you haven’t been fast to make friends, and sometimes you’re lonely.  You initially moved in with a roommate, but she moved in with a boyfriend and you hadn’t been able to find a new one.  Instead, you move into a little duplex you can afford on your own.  

Your internet hasn’t exactly been reliable, and you’re still getting used to managing your own utilities.  You haven’t called for help yet because the prospect of it overwhelms you, but you get tired of rebooting the router and finally call your internet service provider to troubleshoot your connection.   

You reach a polite young man named Corey C.  Corey has a deep, sexy voice and a Northern accent.  Northern accents are super hot to you the same way a foreign accent might be hot to someone else.   

“Can I get your phone number in case we get disconnected?”  You give it to him. 

“Tell me about why you’re calling today.” He follows the script, you give him the answers. 

“I lost the internet.”

“Are you near your router? Can you tell me which lights are blinking?” You tell him you don’t know what the lights are and he guides you through light by light.  You aren’t really listening, you just savor the sound of his voice. You could listen to Corey C. talk forever. 

“Ma’am?  Ma’am are you there?” 

“Yes, sorry.  The top one is blinking orange.” 

“Okay, I can reset the connection from here, it’ll just take a minute to reboot, okay?” 

“Sure.”  It’s refreshing how sweet and patient he is.  You were nervous to call for help, and he’s made it easy and even enjoyable.  

“I’ll stay on the line to make sure it works, okay?” You already want to hug him.  Sometimes you still feel so alone, and even though he;s just helping you through this tiny problem in the big scheme of things, it feels good to have someone sound like they’re actually there for you.  

“Sounds good,” you say.  “How’s your day going?”

He sighs.  “You know, it’s just another day.” Something sounds so sad in his voice. 

“Awww” 

“Actually, you’re the first nice customer I’ve had all day.” 

“Sorry to hear that.” 

“That’s alright, it’s just the job.  How’s your day?” 

“Oh, fine, not too interesting. I was just streaming Euphoria when I lost connection.”

“Sorry about that.  How is that, by the way?”

“Oh it’s awesome, you should watch it.” 

“I don’t have Showtime, but it looks really good.” 

“You have an amazing voice, by the way, sorry if that’s weird, I just had to tell you.” 

“Uh, heh, well, thanks.” You can practically hear him blushing

“Do you get that a lot?”

“Um, no, not really, most people are just annoyed.  Their internet is out or their bill is too high.” 

“That doesn’t sound very fun, sorry.” 

“Well, it’s a job, my mom got it for me, so I could save for college.” 

“Oh, are you still in high school?”  He doesn’t sound young, but you feel like you have to ask.  

“Oh, no, no, I go to community college, I’m just saving up for engineering school.” 

“Well, you’re good at your job, Corey C. You’re patient and kind, and hey, it looks like you already fixed my issue.”

“Oh, heh, you can just call me Corey.”

“Okay Corey,” you smile.   

“Is there anything else I can help you with today?” 

“No, I think that’s all for today.  I hope your day gets better.” 

“Thanks.  You’re nice.  Give us a call back if you need anything else, okay?” 

You wish you could talk to him longer, but you let him go and give him five stars on the customer service survey.   

For the rest of the day, you can’t get his hot voice out of your head.  He’s earnest and sad and that just makes you feel more connected to him.  The whole time you’ve lived in Haddonfield, you’ve felt like an outsider.  It’s almost like people wonder why anyone would move to Haddonfield after 2018, and they never quite let you in.  You hear something similar in Corey’s voice.  You hate the thought of him getting yelled at all day.  

A few days later, you have the same issue and get Corey C. again when you call.  He remembers you.  You make conversation again, and at the end he says “It was nice talking to you, really.”  

The day after that, you call back just because, and you ask for Corey C. by name. He’s about to go eat his lunch. You talk about your favorite foods and drinks.  

Each time you call, you pretend there's an issue and give him five stars.  Corey tells you he's switching to a later shift and gives you his extension.  The late shift is pretty dead sometimes, so if you're ever bored you could give him a call.  Now you have his extension. 

-

You're listening to WURG in the car, and Willie the Kid is on about how Corey Cunningham is a killer. Corey Cunningham.  You always felt bad for him, but hadn't thought about him since you started talking to Corey C. on the phone.  

You go on YouTube to try to find old CourtTV footage, and there it is, that deep sexy voice.  You didn't know Corey Cunningham was hot.  You had a feeling Corey C. was though.  

Corey's hot voice paired with his sweet curly hair and glasses and the way he can barely make eye contact really pulls at your heart.  You also can't help but notice the way his prison garb hugs his body, and his thick neck, and his Adam's apple when he gulpsl. 

He's a gruff, sexy hunk of man wrapped around the sweetest saddest package and you just want to squeeze him.  

-

You call Corey on the late shift. can talk until he has another customer.  You talk about your favorite holidays.  Yours is Halloween but he doesn't like it.  You ask him his story and he tells you his full name and says you probably already know it.  “It’s cool if you have to go,” he adds, sadly.  You don’t, of course.  

You come clean about hearing his name on the radio and looking him up.  He doesn't mind.  He’s just relieved you still want to talk to him.  You tell him your full name and story, too. You tell him things you hadn't ever told anyone else before. He tells you about his home life.  You tell him how you came from a similar situation - in terms of feeling controlled and unable to live your life.  You talk for hours.  He only has one customer and calls you  back after.  

You call back the next night. 

"I wasn't sure you'd ever call back again," he says.  “After getting to know me more, I mean.” 

Your heart hurts.  "I called back especially after getting to know you. I wanna get to know you even more, now."

"Yeah? What do you want to know?"

"Do you have friends? A girlfriend?"

"Not really" 

"No girlfriend, really?"

"No.  The past couple years have been - it’s been tough. I wouldn’t want anyone to deal with this.  Plus, you know, I still live with my Mom.”

"Well.  You're sweet. And cute, you know that, right?" Secretly, you suspect he doesn't.  

"Heh. You don't have to say that.” 

"Really.  Very huggable, too.  I just want to squeeze you"

"You do?"  You wonder if he was even hugged as a child. 

"Yeah, is that weird?"

"No, not at all. Just unusual.  I mean, I can't remember my last hug. Is that messed up?”

He has another customer, but you tell him to text you later.  You know he already has your phone number from your file.  

You text throughout the week, and sometimes you talk on the phone because you like to hear his voice, still.  As Halloween approaches you worry about him, especially because it sounds like Joan has been acting even crazier now that he’s working a later shift.   Everything you learn about him intrigues you more.  He doesn’t drive.  He rides a bike.  He trespasses and hangs out at abandoned, bleak locations a lot.  He never really had a dad, but his stepfather is cool. 

Even pathetic things – like his mom still doing his laundry – only make you feel closer to him.  

Knowing how traumatic Halloween must be for him, you invite him over to spend the evening with you.  The whole night, if he wants.  

-

Halloween 

You watch your niece while her parents go to a Halloween dinner party and your sister picks her up right before Corey's shift ends.  The flow of trick-or-treaters tapers off.  When the doorbell rings, your heart races.

You answer the door and almost don't recognize Corey.  He looks so much bigger in person.  His hair is darker, too.   He's wearing a brown corduroy jacket, black and green flannel shirt, and black jeans that are too big. His glasses are different. Round, wire rim.  He's wearing old white sneakers. His bike is on a kick-stand behind him.  His curly hair is wild from the wind.  He’s even more unassuming and huggable than you imagined.  “Hiiii Corey,” you say.  You can’t believe he’s really here.  Your heart is fluttering.  “You can park your bike on the porch.” You get the bowl of candy and set it out on the porch for any late trick-or-treaters as he parks his bike.

“Hey, thanks for inviting me,” he says.  His voice is even nicer in person. 

You hold your arms out  for a hug before he's even in the door.  He walks into you with his arms hesitantly outstretched and you curl your arms under his.   His big corduroy arms wrap around you like a blanket, loosely at first, then you squeeze him around the waist and inhale, and he gives you the bear hug you really wanted.  His shirt smells like a wood shop.  His jacket has a faint hint of smoke.    And his skin - his thick, masculine neck, smells freshly showered, minty. 

You invite him in and lock the door behind him.  You have a big leather sofa with an oversized plush ottoman. Your TV is mounted on the opposite wall.  You’re going to watch Black Christmas and the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. 

You take Corey’s jacket and for the first time see his strong, expansive chest.  He notices you noticing, and he assumes he has something on his shirt.  He looks down at himself and brushes nothing off his chest then smiles shyly and tucks a wild curl behind his ear.  You welcome him to sit on the couch with you.  He sits upright, awkwardly.  You can tell he's going to need some encouragement. 

He faces the tv and you face him with your feet up on the couch.  You tuck your feet under his muscular thigh.  He puts his large hand on your foot and stretches his big feet out onto the ottoman. After twenty minutes like this, you say “Can I have another hug? The first one’s wearing off” and smile

"Come here,"  he says, smiling shyly and extending his arm.  He's finally relaxing.  

You settle in next to him, hugging him from the side, inhaling his masculine, minty woodshop smell.  He strokes your arm.  

Your skin is hungry for his.  You can't get close enough to him.  The closer you are, the closer you need to be.  You already have your arms wrapped all the way around him, and his arms over yours, and you still don't feel close enough. It's like your body has a magnetic need to be all the way around his.  Like an affectionate, emotional horniness. 

"Wanna lie down?" you ask?  "On your back." You wonder if that was too direct, but he takes off his glasses, then does it.  

He lies there, watching you curiously.  You climb on top of him, straddling his sturdy hips with your legs, and you slip your hands under his large arms.  You hug and squeeze him like a koala.  "Can I stay like this?" You ask.  “Like forever?”

He laughs softly at you. "Yeah, you can stay like that," he says softly. You love feeling his voice through his chest.  “I like it. Do you want to watch the movie like this?"

"Yeah," you say.  You haven’t been this close to anyone the whole time you’ve lived in Haddonfield.  

He’s very strong and solidly built, but not overly cut, which you love.  He’s unassuming and comfortable to lie on.  He’s perfect.  Your head is against his soft flannel chest, rising and falling with his breaths, listening to his heart pound.  Your knees are to either side of his hips.  You're straddling his meaty thighs and it's a stretch.  Your crotch is just below his, but they would be aligned if you got out of your koala posture.  You scoot your knees back a little.   You’re very comfortable.  His hand comes to your head and strokes your hair.  Your eyelids are heavy. 

"You're really pretty, you know," he says as your breathing grows steady and falls in rhythm with his against his chest. Your heart swells.  

His belt buckle digs into you. You pull your head up for a second and touch his belt buckle and say "can I?" He blushes and nods. You feel his cock twitch under your arm as you unfasten it and slide out the leather.  

As hot as he is, your awareness of his cock doesn’t distract you from your primary desire at the moment, which is just to be close to him.  You're so overwhelmed with affection for him that your number one priority is to hug him forever and never let him go and never let anyone hurt him again.  You pull a thick blanket over both of you and doze off top of him.  

***

When the movie ends, you wake up in the same position.  You look up at Corey and he's asleep.  You stretch out so you’re more parallel to him and lie on top of him with one of your legs falling between his.  Your hunger for affection is actively being satisfied, and now a different hunger stirs in your core. 

He looks so peaceful.  He stirs and you kiss him on the cheek, then the neck, then you lock eyes and kiss him on the mouth.  His soft lips embrace yours.  As he kisses you tenderly, you begin to unbutton his flannel shirt.  You feel him harden against your thigh and your clit is screaming for you to grind against him but you don't want to make any sudden moves.   You can take the lead if you have to, but want to savor every moment and resist the urge to rush things. You kiss affectionately as you finish unbuttoning his shirt. Meanwhile, you’re twitching with need for him.  

You spread your hands out, fingers wide, and trace his pecs through his tight, thin undershirt. His breathing changes when your palms graze his nipples and you feel him twitch against your thigh. He sits up on his elbows and you back off to give him room.  He takes his arms out of the flannel sleeves, revealing how his thick arms fill his thin undershirt.  

Corey looks like he’s trying to read your face like a book as he drops the flannel shirt to the floor.  He begins to wrap his arms around you again, but you slide your hands under his white cotton shirt.  His skin is smooth and warm under your fingers.  You meet his eyes with a hopeful look.  He helps you remove the shirt, then he lies back down and opens his arms for you. 

You take off your own sweater, and before laying back down on him, you take a moment to appreciate his bare chest.  His skin is pale and smooth and warm.  You hug him again like you were, with your cheek now resting on his bare, warm chest.  One hand strokes your hair while the other caresses your back.  His large fingers graze over your bra strap repeatedly, and you take that as his way of asking you to remove it, so you do.  His face flushes and you smile.  His eyes look back and forth between your nipples as you bring your chest to his.  There’s a magnetism between your bare torsos as they meet and your breasts flatten against him.  He rests his arms on top of you and strokes your skin.  You kiss his neck, then his cheek, then his mouth, and you’re making out again.  

You take in the feeling of his lips against yours, his skin against yours.  Your chests and arms together feel like they should never come apart.  You could stay like this for hours, do nothing else, and still consider it a good night, but you want all of him against all of you.  When you look him in the eyes, you’re certain he wants the same. 

“Your skin feels so good,” he whispers.  

“Yours too.  I want to feel all of it.” 

He slips a hand in between the two of you and you lift yourself up to give him some room.  Large knuckles graze your skin as he unbuttons, then unzips his pants.  You scoot yourself down toward his feet and begin to slowly remove his jeans, pulling from the ankles.  His briefs start to come with them, revealing some red pubic hair.  He doesn’t pull the briefs back up.  He’s breathing slowly, deliberately.  His thighs are muscular and fade from white to tan.  His legs have soft, auburn hair and a few scars lighter than his skin.  His feet are huge.  You leave his socks on.  You almost can’t believe how lucky you are to have him here in your house.  

You lie down again, cradled by a large arm, slowly squirm out of your joggers - you weren’t wearing any underwear to take off.  He watches you while you’re nestled against him.  Your entire naked body now lies against him.   He takes his free hand and nudges his briefs down a little more and you help him slowly pull them off with your hand, then your toes, not wanting to leave his side again.  He raises his knees one at a time to help.  You don’t look directly at his cock but you see enough to know it’s thick and getting thicker. 

You’re both nude. The room is just chilly enough that your body heat together will be enough.   You pull the blanket up so only your heads peek outside it.  You’re cuddled up so close you’re like one body with two heads.   You hook your bare leg over one of his and nestle comfortably against him.  You reach down and remove one of your socks, then use the toes of that foot to remove your other sock. You slip your big toe into the hem of his sock and he lets you remove them one by one and he giggles when it tickles. 

As you play footsie, you feel his cock harden against your leg, and you feel yourself moistening against his strong, hairy thigh. The contiguity of your bodies is intoxicating - the magnetism of his warm skin against yours.  

He kisses you softly on the forehead, then on the lips.  You close your eyes and inhale through your nose as you kiss, feeling his arms around you.  You’re cosmically absorbing him into yourself and at the same time transmitting yourself into him.  You want all his feelings and his fears and his trauma and his problems. You want both of you to carry them and yours together as one. 

His cock swells against you and his pelvis pushes into your leg and he whispers "sorry."

It stirs you from your affectionate stupor and you whisper back, "don't be.  It's natural."  You bend your knee and spread your legs, shifting yourself so his hardness is nestled against your warmth.  "And I like it," you add.  “I want more,” you purr.  He takes a deep breath.    

Corey’s expansive hands glide over your arms and his thick arms wrap around you tighter.  His hot, stiff, member rubs against your warmth.  You grind against him, bury your nose in his armpit, and inhale slowly. Your nipples harden as his musk fills your nostrils. 

He kisses the top of your head.  You look and he bows his head, a wild curl falling in his forehead, and his lips meet yours.  He pushes his rock-hard length against you harder as you kiss, and you feel pre-cum.  You tilt your hips, slickening his shaft.  He softly moans and pulses rhythmically there.  You badly want to be filled by him.  Your body inches upward on his.  Your legs spread for more direct contact and you grind your clit hard against his shaft.  You drag your warm, wet cunt against him.  Your hips tilt, offering your entrance if he wants to take it.  

The wet, swollen head of his cock slides against your folds and nuzzles at your soaking wet entrance.  You truly ache for him. You feel the pain not only in your throbbing cunt but in your head and in your chest.  

His cockhead nudges your entrance and you whisper “yes.”  

His hips rotate upward and the head of his cock pushes into you, unleashing a swarm of butterflies in your core.  He sighs.   He inches further into you, pleasantly stretching  your cunt.  Time stands still.  You feel his cock pulse and your hips start to move on their own.  As you roll into him, his hips jolt up, plunging his whole length into you.  

It takes your breath away.  You’ve never felt happier than this moment.  He sighs and you gasp as pleasure shoots through your spine and spreads to your nipples, your thighs, all your skin against his.  Your eyes feel weak like you might cry.  

Corey is still for a moment, both of you savoring the first moment his length was sheathed entirely in your warm, wet cunt.  You breathe with him, feeling your skin against his, your cunt around his cock.  You feel him pulse inside you, then he pulls back a few inches before thrusting into you harder.  He shudders as he fills you again.  Your chest is hot against his.  Your arms curl under his and his thick fingers dig into the smooth skin of your back.  

You bring your knees up and hug him like a koala again, rolling your hips into his, your throbbing clit rubbing against his pelvis, savoring the perfect feeling of his length inside you.  Your body has a mind of its own now.  Your hips let his shaft halfway out, then lower yourself back down hard, and repeat.  You drag your breasts down his chest a few inches then sit up.  He marvels at your body and his hands come to your  hips as you ride him.  He reaches for a breast and your nipple hardens against his wide palm.  Your pace quickens.  

Corey’s face is flushed and his eyes are dark.   His dark eyes sparkle as they gaze into yours.  His lips are slightly parted. “You’re so beautiful,” he says in a low, gruff voice.  “I love being inside you.” 

“I love it too,” you say as you keep riding him.  He closes his eyes and you watch his hot Adam’s apple as he swallows.  His breathing gets heavier.  His hands go from your breasts to your sides then beg you closer against him.  You kiss him deeply as you lower your breasts to his chest.  His lips are soft and plush but they kiss you hard this time, invading your mouth with his strong tongue, sucking you into him, consuming you as you ride him. 

Your hard nipple grazes against his and he softly moans into your mouth.  His hips rise and you slowly stop riding him, hovering half-on his cock, begging his hips upward into yours.  He thrusts upward into you and begins fucking you from the bottom and your cunt clenches around him.  You both breathe heavily against each other’s mouths, breathing each other’s breath.  

He starts to say something, “I–” but his own moan cuts him off.  You sense he’s about to come and as much as you want his hot seed to fill you up, you want to swallow it even more.  You want your body to digest him, millions of little versions of him, take little bits of him and turn them into you and you into him.

Your cunt is clenched around him but you beg it to release.  You lift your hips and slowly let his swollen cock slide out.  It’s ready to burst.  You grab it in your soft hand and scoot quickly down his legs, then bring your lips to the head of his cock.  You suck the head of his salty cock then open your jaw to slide your lips down his girth. Your strong tongue massages him and you suck from the back of your throat.  He strokes your hair and groans and says he’s going to come.  

His hips tense as his cock releases a huge salty load into your throat in waves.  You seal your lips around his shaft, not wanting to waste any of it at all.  You swallow after every pump, still sealed round his shaft.  Then, once he’s empty, you gently slide your lips off and replace them with your gentle hand, wanting to protect him from the cold as he deflates.  

He sits up and kisses you frantically, pushing you down onto the opposite end of the couch so you’re on the bottom.  His huge hand engulfs your cunt and his lips come to your nipple, then your neck.  His middle three fingers massage your aching clit and your hips roll up into his huge hand.  You can tell he’s desperate to make you come.  It won’t take much.  He begins to move his hand to your thighs, and you sense he’s getting ready to bury his head between your legs, but you’re too close to let him break contact.  You grab his wrist and force him to stay. 

His lips come back to your neck and he sucks you hard, biting you lightly, as his soaking wet hand pleasures you rhythmically. You feel the blood in your neck rising to the surface of your delicate skin.  Just a few more seconds and your back arches as pleasure shoots through your core, seizing your entire body, and through your final waves, you moan “Corey, Oh, Corey,” and your eyes well up, and his eyes water too as he kisses your lips again.  You collapse and hug him into you, on top of you.  

Corey nuzzles his curls into your neck and the skin of your chest tingles against his.  Your insides buzz with his cum inside you.   You would be content to stay like this all night.  Preferably every night.  

-

my smut list

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[artheresy]

Zhuming Family headcanons ROUND TWO!!

I have more Zhuming family headcanons! I am ever so happy to provide because I love them so much

A mix of headcanons for each of them individually (Yingxing, Huaiyan, Ardens Regia, and Baiheng) and for them as a group/different dynamics within that little family group

This is actually a headcanon I have been considering for a while especially while trying to write the opening scene for the Yingxing fic, but I think Huaiyan, while he has a lot of experience with different weapons types both from a warrior and a craftsman’s standpoint, primarily fights with a tang dao that he crafted for himself a long time ago.

Huaiyan calls Ardens Regia “salamander” and he’s done it so much for so long that all of their subordinates know who he means when he says that. Flat out refuses to call him by his title, refuses to call him by his name most of the time. It’s just “Salamander” sometimes something insulting in front of it.

Ardens Regia has his own affectionate nickname for Huaiyan! It’s usually some form of “moron” or some other insult

Yingxing in the future ends up taking a bit after Huaiyan with “Lizard” being a nickname he has for Dan Feng that annoys him to no end

Jingliu ends up on the Zhuming, a bit after the Foxian pilots once most of the fighting has died down and communications are happening between the Yaoqing and the Zhuming for future plans. Baiheng ends up being the one who introduces Jingliu to Huaiyan and Ardens Regia as she and Yingxing lead Jingliu there. I don’t know how better to describe Huaiyan and Ardens Regia’s behavior than think of when you have like uncles or aunts who keep giving each other knowing smiles and looks while asking very vague questions… in very teasing voices as if they can 100% see what’s up. It absolutely embarrasses Baiheng while Jingliu and Yingxing have no idea what’s going on

Poor Yingxing will eventually experience that in the future and finally understand

I’ve talked about how I think Ardens Regia gives them all little trickets he makes in his free time. Before Yingxing leaves for the Luofu after he turns 18, Ardens Regia gives him two hairpins. One is more decorative and for special occasions with delicate glass pieces and overall very beautiful as the glass has a mix of colors to match the purples and blues in his eyes. The other is a simple silver hairpin with a flat portion near one of the ends that is engraved. Ardens Regia says it’s evidence that Yingxing is one of his people, one of their (The Zhuming, Huaiyan’s, etc.) people, no matter what anyone in the Luofu may say.

Baiheng takes time she has free over the years to visit the Zhuming for short amount of time before she eventually transfers over the Luofu, and the first time she leaves the Zhuming, Ardens Regia sends her off with a metal pendant with a lot of details, with the primary theme behind it centering around the moon. He sends her off with a few different things that end up more decorative, but her favorite out of everything is the pendant.

Huaiyan has SO many things from Ardens Regia over the centuries. He does get most of the rejects and the first attempts for practicing for projects AR usually ends up giving Yingxing, and Huaiyan makes a big show of complaining and acting all pissed off. But any belief in his anger being genuine fades away when you can see he keeps every single one, even the ugly, the lopsided, and half melted ones, all around his office. Some on his desk, some on his shelves, some in his drawers and on tables. Even a few in his personal quarters.

At some point, Yingxing wants to try glass blowing. And I mean, AR is happy and he believes in Yingxing’s ability to learn well and fast given what the kinds of methods and approaches to new forms of creation he’s been taught. But see… it goes so disastrously bad that Yingxing is afraid to ever try it again and when Huaiyan ends up hearing about what happened, either from AR or as a report because Yingxing’s lesson resulted in some minor property damage, he can’t stop laughing

I have more hcs, but it’s 1 am for me and I’m a bit tired so those will have to wait for another time!! Anyways, I love the Zhuming family they fill my heart with joy I adore them! I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it :D

[writtenbynath]

The problem with Nimja teaching hypnokink at an event

He has been a known predator in our community for years now. You can just google his name and the word 'abuse'  and you can find a whole page of stories from victims and people who have had run ins with him.  Any event organiser who has never heard of these stories by now, we can safely assume that they have not done the research, or they are just ok with hosting a charismatic predator who brings all his fans to the event.

You might think that's a little harsh of me. But women talk about these things to each other, and that's how I have heard so many stories of little interactions where the woman in question concluded that Nimja was a creep she should watch out for. Literally countless stories like this keep being shared by women online and I hear more of them every time I speak up about his abuse.

Sometimes I hear a story of real abuse like this. A story of a young woman who really fell in love with Nimja, because being hypnotised is just likely to give you crushy in love feelings sometimes, and because of the flavour of D/s play he tends to do. These women were in love, very impressed by all his files and tremendously honoured that he would take time to play or record a file with them. And when it went sideways, he'd just abandon them, no aftercare, no trigger removal, sometimes he'd even forbid them to contact him again. These young women had to handle the shame of being conditioned online by this man and not knowing how to get his commands out of their heads alone.

In 2019 a woman gave me permission to share her story, the other six victims are too afraid of Nimja and don't want to share any details. This woman played with him online with D/s and orgasm control. This went so far that she couldn't even go to the bathroom without listening to one of his files. She needed his voice, his permission, to simply be able to pee. And he cut her off at that moment. She literally told me that he punished her when she tried to contact him because she wanted it to stop, she needed it to stop. So she had to find another way of getting his triggers and commands out of her head, of getting her life back together. The other stories are a lot like this one, and yes, they are recent.

Because of these stories centering on online play with him, some people don't take it very seriously. Perhaps including Nimja. It's hard to explain how much impact hypnokink can have on your life, especially when it comes to files and conditioning. It's hard to explain how difficult things get when you have to listen to a file multiple times per day or you'll start to feel awful. It's hard to explain how much shame and pain that causes, because it's not like a physical addiction, is it? You can just stop, right?

I'm worried that Nimja underestimates the impact he has on the women he plays with. It seems like he's just going to continue playing with more women like this. He just a guy who doesn't think he's doing anything wrong, and he gets older just like the rest of us, but it seems like he keeps playing with these really young women. And maybe he's not consciously looking for girls who don't know how hypnokink works yet, and who don't know what they want out of kink yet. Maybe it's not on purpose. That's possible. Right?

But the predatory pattern is there. The cult of personality discord server full of fans who enable his bad behaviour is there. So that's a problem. And I honestly don't know if he teaches hypnokink in a way I'd encourage. He's teaching at an event in Germany and in Wales where I really respect some of the other teachers. But I think every impressionable young woman at those events is at risk of being hurt in the exact same way described above.

[thereallycoolmonsterithoughtup]

some random guard at the castle: hey uhh... why are you so obsessed with Sir Kabru?

Surja: What kind of question is that??? Who wouldn't be obsessed with Sir Kabru?? His stature is perfect, it's always at a 90° angle when hes standing upright, he's always updated on politics and not only that he's basically always knows whats going on with everyone in the castle and outside the castle, he's so down to earth and he's such a good advisor !!! He only complains sometimes and when he does it's always reasonable complaints, he's really good at communication and he remembers everyone's names and his general time keeping is perfect , he's even got really good hair. How is his hair so perfect??? He's so beautiful and his eyes... his eyeliner his lashes they're ethereal... His time management is nothing to scoff at either-- its excellent how well he can serve His Majesty and the people and juggle literally so many things at once. That is some excellent work ethic!!! And his shoulders... his muscles... ahh... the way he spars in the training grounds is just so impressive!!! The way he moves and fights is reminiscent of how elves do it... elegant and graceful yet deadly and so quick too!!! I haven't even gotten started on his eyes... and his voice... and the way he looks when he's angry... hes so strong... Have you ever wondered what its like to talk one on one with Sir Kabru? its an enlightening experience and it makes you feel like you're the center of attention... It's amazing!!! A real work of art, that man!!!

the guard: oh wow... alright ... hes a really great guy, huh

Surja: Did you not hear a word I said? Anyway he's done so much in this Kingdom and I find it really amazing how he always does what's expected from him in an orderly manner, yesterday I talked to Lord Yaad and he was all like "oh yes!!! Kabru is always there to pick up the slack when theres minor tasks !!!" hes so overworked!!!! I need to make sure he eats 3 meals a day, don't you ????

the guard: (this is getting a bit weird even for me)

90 DEGREE ANGLE HHEEEEEELPPPP someone save the poor guard 😭😭

[arealphrooblem]

A Favor for a Favor Part 6

Part one here

CW for the fic overall: kissing/fade to black off screen sex, mentions of non-consensual drugging, non-graphic wound care, off screen murder mention

Synopsis:

When Roxanne -- Agent name Rocket -- is back-stabbed by a friend and given a serum that drains her of her powers and leaves her helpless, she has no choice but to turn to the one person she can't trust: Her nemesis -- a politician and king of the underworld. With her powerless and in the palm of his hand, what he decides to do with her is greatly influenced by their chance meeting as teenagers that neither of them have been able to forget.

The Present

His soft footsteps  crunched over the gravel path. She didn’t look up from her huddled form on the deck chair. A blanket dropped over her shoulders, smelling powerfully of his soap.

“Did you ever find out why he did it,” she asked softly. 

“Will you believe me if I tell you?”

“I don’t know what else to do. You’re all I have right now.”

“It’s terrifying , isn’t it? Having to trust the unknown.”

He sat down on the chair next to her, legs stretched out. 

“You are eating this role reversal up, aren’t you?”

He paused for a moment. “I don’t like seeing you this way. I much prefer you obnoxious and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

She snorted at that.

“For someone so active in the Agency, your arrest record is relatively small. The criminals you catch serve community service hours or house arrest or time in mental hospitals and rehab centers more than jail.  Why is that?”

She looked up at him finally, brow furrowed. What did that have to do with anything?

“Just answer the question,” he said softly. 

“My mom,” she answered. “You know she was a defense attorney. She always told me that the systems we have help a select few and hurt the rest. She saw more people trapped and desperate, people who never stood a chance, than people who were just malicious. I never forgot that. And I never forgot you. You were living proof of that. At least, until you became this.”

She waved a hand over his designer clothes and at the penthouse terrace. 

“That’s what he hated,” John told her. “He considered you unfit because you were too soft. Crime would only increase under you because you never made an example of anyone. They didn’t fear you. He acted on his own to solve the problem because the Agency refused to hear his concerns. I won’t get into the particulars of how he discovered my serum. But rest assured it won’t happen again, by him or anyone else.”

“That fucking bastard,” she whispered. 

He had been the loudest voice about civilian safety, cleaning up neighborhoods, fighting gang activity. Sometimes it bordered on the insensitive, the oblivious and childish idea of black and white morality. She never thought he would stoop to this.

“He still should have had a trial,” she said, but the bitter part of her heart didn’t believe it anymore. 

“I can’t have anyone else knowing what I created. I don’t feel guilty about it.”

“If it's such a risk, why the hell did you even make it? As far as I know, I’m the first Agent to get hit with it. You could have dismantled the whole Agency. Or sold it to the highest bidder who would do the same.”

“You love your power. I can tell how lost you are without it even without reading your mind. I depend on mine and it protects me. But there are people who have powers that do nothing but cause them misery. People whose powers make them a target everywhere they go. People who can’t hide. I made it for them.”

“Oh.”

It sounded too magnanimous to be true. 

“They pay for it,” he assured her. “A favor for a favor.”

That sounded more like him.

“Can it . . .be reversed?” She forced herself to ask it. The answer terrified her. 

“Theoretically. I have an antidote. It’s just never been tested before. It will be here tomorrow.”

Hope exploded, bright and overwhelming, in her chest. 

“Are you serious?” she squealed. “Tomorrow?”

She launched herself at him, crawling in his lap and wrapping her arms around him, with a force strong enough to push them both back against the chair. He made a small oomph beneath her, arms flailing awkwardly at his side. Her ribs protested painfully but she didn’t care. She pressed her face in the juncture of his shoulder and neck and squeezed him. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said grimly. “There’s no guarantee it will work. We may have to experiment with it. You may need to stay at the lab for a while.”

“I don’t care! Oh my God!”

She pulled back enough to look down at him. He could still be lying. It could still be a trick. But she decided to choose hope instead. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, his arms came up to cradle her back. His hands bled warm through the thin t-shirt. She realized, suddenly, that she was almost straddling him. Face growing hot, she started to get up when his hands tightened their grip. 

His gaze bore into her, dark and inscrutable. John Park was an untrustworthy, manipulative selfish bastard and she wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss him.

“You should do it,” he whispered.  

She didn’t need any further encouragement. Her hands fisted in the front of his shirt and she kissed him fiercely. To her surprise, he kissed her back with equal enthusiasm, rising up to meet her. His hands slid up her spine to cup the back of her head, fingers tangling into her hair. She nipped at his bottom lip, grinning against his mouth when she felt his fingers tighten in her hair. 

For years, Roxanne never saw John without his mask fixed perfectly in place. He was always collected, always in control, always unaffected. He walked into every interaction holding all the cards and he knew it. 

Which was why every hitched breath, every beat of his thundering pulse under her roaming fingers, every bold, desperate slide of his tongue, felt like a victory. In the court of desire, it was undeniable proof that he felt something back. Every scrap of her yearning, attraction, fascination with him burned through her blood as pure, unfiltered need and he matched her with equal ferocity.

His hand crept under her shirt (his shirt), the feather light trace of his fingertips up her spine at odds with the sharp, sting of his lips sucking a bruise in her neck. His teeth dragged up the column of her throat to latch around her earlobe. A whine tore from her throat. 

“This, Roxanne,” he breathed against her ear, “this is where I want you: fierce and needy and begging for me to touch you.”

 He brushed over her ribs like a gentle breeze and she shuddered against him. 

“Just like that.”

His other hand caressed up her thigh, stopping just short of its apex, and squeezed. She bit back a protesting groan.

“Can I have you, Roxanne?”

It sounded almost innocent, like she was a lollipop he plucked at the check out register. Except for the ragged edge of his voice, as if his self control was moments from slipping through his grasp. Or for the way his fingers swirled infuriatingly against her inner thigh, just the barest inch away from where she needed them most. 

Her fingers clenched in his shirt. She had never been more turned on in her life. “Yes. Yes. Oh my God, please.”

A long time later, as she drifted in and out of sleep against his chest, he whispered something to her. 

“What?” she murmured.

“It’s Ji-won,” he repeated. 

“What is?”

“My name. My birth name.”

“Ji-Won,” she repeated, smiling sleepily against his chest. 

The Past

Halfway through dinner, Roxanne dropped her fork and shouted, 

“Oh shit!”

Cornelius jerked to his feet, gaze darting around. 

“What?” he demanded, hand wrapped around his steak knife.  

“My project,” she shrieked. “I forgot all about it! It’s due tomorrow and it’s almost my bedtime!”  

“ . . .okay? What’s the big deal? Can’t you type that out in like thirty seconds?”

He slowly sat back down, glowering at her. She probably gave him a heart attack. And she’d be a little sympathetic to that if she wasn’t harboring her own heart attack right now.

“Yeah but I don’t think fast. I still have to finish the research, organize everything, get all the labels . . .”

The weight of all that work felt crushing. She thought she’d have two days -- not a few hours!

“Then skip school.”

She gasped, horrified. “I’ve never skipped school in my life.”

“Why am I not surprised?” he muttered. “Guess you’re pulling an all-nighter.”

She groaned, fingers threading nervously through her hair.“I’m not a night owl. I’ll crash by midnight, no matter what. I’ve never even seen the ball drop for New Years.”

“How old are you -- five?”

“Shut up, Cornelius. Having a consistent sleep schedule is good for you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said. 

“Yeah that much is obvious from the raccoon eyes you always have.” She fought the urge to cry. “Dude, I am so screwed. This is worth so much of my grade!”

Silence stretched out taut as a bow string between them. Then Cornelius sighed and stood up with his plate in his hand.

“No you’re not. I’ll help you. Finish your dinner and let's get this over with.”

Roxanne tried her best to hold out, but even with coffee she found herself nodding off just before one AM. Eventually she woke up to a hand gently shaking her shoulder. 

“Go to bed,” came Cornelius’s voice softly by her ear.

“I can’t,” she mumbled. “I have to finish . . .the . . .thing.”

“It is finished.”

That jerked her awake. “What?”

She lifted her head off the kitchen table and peered around. While she slept, Cornelius had painstakingly drawn and labeled the majority of her project. It stretched out beautifully on the poster board, looking like it came from a professional. 

“You did all that?” she gasped. 

“Who else?”

“It’s gorgeous! You should be an artist!”

“You don’t have to pander to me to say thank you,” he said, arms crossed tightly against his chest. 

“I’m not!” She leaned in to get a closer look at  the poster. “This is detailed and so neat. Seriously, you should go to art school!”

He let out a bark of bitter laughter. “Yeah, okay.”

Her smile faded as she straightened back up. “Well, what is your grand plan, Cornelius? If art school is out of the question, what are you going to do with yourself?”

“If I tell you that, you’ll probably become an accessory to a crime.”

“I’m serious,” she said. 

“So am I.” He gave her a half-hearted smirk. “Don’t worry about what I’m going to do. Worry about yourself. You clearly need to,” he added, gesturing to the poster board.  

“How can I not worry about you?” she demanded. “You know, I could talk to my parents. We have that spare bedroom, we could --”

“Don’t even go there,” he said. “Your family is not going to adopt me or take me or what the fuck ever.”

“Yes, they would! My mom is a defense attorney -- she meets kids like you all the time. And you’re like, what, a senior by now? We could get you enrolled in my school; they have credit recovery programs and --”

He stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around her wrists. The sudden proximity, the pressure of the pads of his thumbs resting right against her pulse, the dark wells of his eyes, caught her voice in her throat. 

“It’s very . . .kind of you to think about that,” he said stiltedly. “No one’s ever .  . .but it’s not possible. It’s just not possible.

She swallowed, trying to find what would break through his thick, edge-lord,  I Have To Suffer skull.

“It’s possible, you know. Lots of things are possible for you. You just have to let yourself believe you can have it.”

“Maybe for you. Not so much for me.”

She yanked her hands from his grip. “And why not? Lots of people who were born poor go to art school! Or law school. Or whatever else they want.”

“It’s not just about being poor, Roxanne.” He looked at her as if she was so painfully naive. “ I’ve already made certain choices, started down certain paths. There is no going back. There is no do-over.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“It doesn’t matter if you do or don’t. The world is the way it is regardless.”

“It’s not fair,” she cried, petulant, like a little child. 

“Life is never about being fair. Whoever told you that lied.”

“Well, I hate it.” Her throat grew tight, eyes stinging. “You deserve to have everything I have. Better, even. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t have it.”

A stray tear fell, and then another. Roxanne bit her lip against them, feeling every bit the naive kindergartner in a PBS cartoon. Her parents never told her the world was fair. They knew it wasn’t. But it felt different, now, when she could see it in front of her, instead of just hearing about a statistic on the news. 

Cornelius slowly cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs swiping away a stray tear.

“Go to bed, Roxanne,” he murmured. “And stop worrying so much about me. I will have the future I want. And I will be okay.”

Part 7 here

[rotworld]

The Language of Obedience

sometimes you forget that sully is a shepherd, too.

->sully/reader. explicit; contains noncon, kidnapping/captivity, conditioning, feral behavior, rough sex, biting, knotting, mild verbal degradation

.

.

.

The door is unlocked. 

You’re so startled that you just stand there grasping the handle, staring in disbelief at the moonlit sliver of the cabin porch just outside. That’s where you stop, mere inches from freedom. It’s a trap. It has to be. There’s no way they were this careless. This is some kind of trick, some new way to destroy what little hope you have left. Max is out there, just behind the door. Waiting. You’re sure of it.

But what if he isn’t? What if that’s the trick? What if you walk out of here and no one stops you?

It takes absolutely all of your focus and self-control to keep your breathing quiet, throwing a nervous glance back over your shoulder. The communal room is dark and empty. Soft snores echo down the narrow hall leading to Lance’s bedroom. No one’s on the couch or curled up by the fireplace. It’s just you, shivering in the entrance. It doesn’t seem real. The door is unlocked and wide open. A chilly breeze scrapes your cheek and that’s all it takes. You’re running. You don’t look back.

You’re loud and you’re aware of it now more than ever. Your clumsy footsteps, your gasping and panting, your heartbeat like a sprinting rabbit—these are all things they can hear and track. But you’ve been waiting and watching, paying attention to when most of the pack goes to sleep, what the shifts are, when Blake’s busy in the kitchens, when the shepherds come back from patrol. You don’t cut through the center of the commune. You head for the trees. You found a path that will take you back to the road. You can follow it all the way down the mountain. The logistics, the distance, the way you’ll ache and your feet will sting and bleed, all of this is static in the back of your brain, unimportant now. Distance. That’s all you need. The further you get, the more time you have before they find you. That’s what matters most now. 

Your pace slows, a sprint to a light jog, a nervous limp. You can’t see. You’ve practiced this in your head every night but it’s harder now when it matters most. The trees are guideposts, boundaries along familiar footpaths worn into the earth. You tell yourself you can do this as your fingertips scrape bark and moss and one of your ankles throbs when your foot turns wrong on an uneven patch of ground. You tell yourself that anything you suffer now will be worth it once you’re home. 

And then you hear it, standing out sharp and distinct against the mutters of nature, the whisper of leaves and clatter of branches. Swift and terrifying, like a gunshot. 

“Hey,” Sully says. “Where’re you going?” 

You go rigid like a frightened deer and whirl around, your weak, human eyes useless in the dark. He could be right there, right in front of you, and you wouldn’t know. You could’ve been walking straight into him. You turn slowly, trying to make out anything against the churning shadows of the forest. A twig snaps to your right. A bush rustles to your left. Something small darts over your foot. If Sully moves at all, his footsteps are as silent as death. You can hear your own racing pulse pounding in your ears. 

“Awwww, lookit you,” he coos. You flinch, stumble a few steps away before you turn on your heel. It sounded like he was right behind you. “You’re like a bunny with those big, scared eyes. What’s wrong? You wanna run in circles a little longer?”

“I wasn’t going in circles,” you say. Your voice is hoarse, all of the confidence strained out of your words. You find him, a vague outline up ahead that doesn’t match the trees. Out of arm’s reach, but that doesn’t matter much. There’s a wolf under his skin. He’s faster than you’ll ever be. 

“Don’t worry, it was cute. Woulda let you do it longer but I was getting bored.”

How long, you wonder. How long has he been following you? Since the edge of the commune? Since you left the cabin? Dead leaves crinkle under your foot. Sully’s silhouette shifts slightly. You can feel his gaze burning into your skin. 

“Better stop backing up like that,” he warns, unable to keep a twinge of excitement out of his tone. “It makes me think you’re gonna run. You wouldn’t do that, right, cutie? You know that’d be really fucking stupid. How about, instead…” He slinks closer with a quick, fluid movement that makes your heart leap into your throat. Even on two legs, he doesn’t lose that predatory grace all the wolves have.  “…submit.”

The word hits you as hard as a fist. You whimper, baring your neck instinctively. You have no control over the action, or the sudden pulse of arousal between your legs. It just happens, as automatic as breathing, and that terrifies you. Moonlight, soft and silver, fills in the blanks of Sully’s silhouette and you see a sharp grin, tousled hair, scrapes and scars flecked across the expanse of his chest and cords of muscle straining beneath the skin. He’s naked. He could shift in a heartbeat. 

Sully lets out a soft chuffing sound, an amused exhale. “Cute. Not what I meant, though. Huh. Really thought Max woulda taught you that by now.” His eyes glint like an animal’s in the dark. “Hey,” he whispers, his grin widening, “you wanna learn something new?” 

You run. You can’t help it. You know as you’re turning, as grass twists and tangles under your feet and your toes leave marks in the dirt, that it’s a mistake. Max told you not to run, told you never run from them, but this reflex is even older, even more deeply ingrained in you than the compulsion to obey commands. There’s a predator with you in the dark and it looked so frighteningly hungry that your mind went blank in panic. Sully lets out a startled bark behind you and you hear the unnerving, fleshy sounds of his body rearranging, bones cracking, bristling fur coming up in thick, reddish-brown clumps across shifting skin.

You don’t make it ten steps. Sully makes vicious, gleeful sounds as his teeth snag in the back of your shirt and you stumble, dragged down by his weight and the agony of his claws raking your legs. He’s human again, a knee digging into your shoulder as he tries to wrestle your hands to the ground, then wolf again with dizzying suddenness. He’s growling and furious with your fingers between his teeth, biting down until you hear an awful crunch and feel things breaking. This is how he breaks you, bit by bit, man and beast, leaving the imprints of his teeth in the ragged mess he makes of your clothes. He doesn’t stop until you’re limp, exhausted, shivering with quiet sobs with nothing left to fight back. 

Human again, he clutches one of your mangled, bloody shoulders and digs his fingers into the wound. “Ohhhhh, you’re in trouble now!” he cackles breathlessly. He’s hard, cock stiff and throbbing where it’s nestled against your thigh. “Big, big fucking trouble, making me chase you like that. Man, what would Alpha say? Bet he’d be real disappointed!” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, a panicked wheeze that slips out on reflex. Sully laughs at you. You hear seams tearing, the shred of fabric around his sharp nails as he unravels what little remains of your underwear. He starts rutting against you before he’s even finished, bumping his hips against your ass with careless, clumsy movements. Nervously shifting away from him earns you a harsh slap, his palm hot like a brand on your skin. 

“Prove it, then,” he says. “Submit to me.” He grabs your hips hard enough to leave bruises and he’s inside you sooner than you’re ready for him, fucking you open with quick, harsh thrusts. Baring your neck isn’t enough. He laughs and nips you playfully, sinks his teeth in a little too hard, but you can tell he isn’t satisfied. “Nuh-huh. Like this, cutie. Up. C’mon. On your knees, you can do it.”

There’s no reprieve to let you gather your strength. He keeps fucking you while you struggle to lift your weary body, his thrusts driving your knees harder into the dirt. Sully is the smallest of the Shelter Mountain pack with a deceptively slight, slender build. That means nothing when he’s got you pinned under him. He likes to fuck hard and fast, always from behind, always leaving marks as his hips slam into yours at a relentless, breathtaking pace that leaves you sore for hours after. 

“I can’t,” you try to tell him, a pitiful whimper that dies in your throat. You feel the engorged flesh of his knot swelling at the base of his cock, a thick bulge that presses in a teasing threat against your rim with every thrust. If it were Lance on top of you now, he’d assure you that you can, because you’re the pack human and your limits are whatever he says they are. Sully just doesn’t care. Whatever you can or can’t do is irrelevant. Your limits are meaningless. He lays himself over your back and pumps his hips even faster, and every whimper and whine you make just makes him throb inside you. 

“Head down,” he tells you. He doesn’t wait for you to comply. His hand is on the back of your head, slamming your face into the dirt, his weight along your back making you bend and arch. “Mm, yeah, that’s a good bitch. Ass up. Higher.” He mounts you like an animal, his legs bracketing your hips and his whole weight bearing down on you. He likes this—the new position, the leverage. He moans and rakes his nails down your sides, hard enough to draw blood. Small rocks and dry leaves dig into your stomach as Sully fucks you into the forest floor. It hurts, everything hurts, his cock pounding into you makes everything burn and ache, but…

It feels good. It feels like you’ve just gotten something right. There’s a hot, heady fog in your head and you’re thinking of Max praising you, stroking your hair, telling you it’s okay, it’s alright, it’s okay to feel this way, and you let out a miserable, broken moan. 

“This is submitting,” Sully growls, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. “This is presenting yourself. Making sure we know you’re good and ready for us. Don’t forget. On your knees. Head down. Ass up.” He repeats the words with a shaky touch to each part of your body, teaching you just like Max would so you won’t forget. On your knees, he says, bearing down on you harder, making you feel the strain in your legs. Head down, he says, scraping his nails along your scalp. Ass up, he says, and his knot pushes and prods and nearly sinks into you. You arch your back, moving to meet his thrusts, and you’re so far gone you can’t tell if he speaks or growls in answer. 

You’re going to cum. The realization is dull and distant, the memory of Max’s voice rather than a thought of your own. You’re going to cum. He always tells you during training when you’re getting close. Can he tell? Can he read your body that well? Or do his words make you feel that way, set you right on the edge awaiting one last order? Sully’s thrusts get slower, more purposeful, deep, rocking movements that start easing his knot inside. “I shouldn’t let you cum,” he groans, nibbling the side of your neck. “Right? Cuz you’ve been bad. Not supposed to reward you when you’re bad.”

You don’t even realize when you start to bag. It’s not words, not anything coherent, just desperate noise and frantic movement, reduced to an animal under Sully’s slowing pace. You whine and you shake and you sob, tears mingling with the mud caked to your cheeks. You peer back at Sully with your head in the grass, hips raised, presenting, submitting, and beg for his knot. 

Sully lets out a shaky laugh. His teeth scrape your throat. “You sorry?” he says. He thrusts hard, hilts himself right up the knot. “Sorry you tried to run?” 

You are. You’re so, so sorry. You can’t remember why you even tried when this is where you’re supposed to be. Under him. Under all of them. Submitting when they tell you to, open and waiting for your pack. 

Sully bites down harder and you whimper but you don’t struggle. You don’t fight the mark. “Are you gonna be good now?” His voice is strained, his hips pushing against you in harsh, jerky motions. “Gonna be a good little pack human for me? A good bitch?” 

You will, you will, you promise you will, and blood spurts around Sully’s teeth as he seizes your hips and pushes in short, sharp motions until he forces his knot all the way inside and you cum with a scream. 

The rest is all haze. Swimming shadows, a ringing in your ears. Sully’s hips pump weakly and there’s an uncomfortable, wet sensation as you’re filled, not even a drop squeezing past his thick, pulsing knot. The world tilts and you’re on your side, Sully pressed against your back and face buried against your neck. He says something you don’t catch, murmured against your skin. The moon is a segmented circle, white as bone through a lattice of branches. The sky is clear. There are stars, more than you’ve ever seen before, shining far, far away. 

Somewhere, a wolf howls. Sully groans, fidgeting behind you, before he manages a pathetic, raspy howl in response. “Get you home in a bit,” he mutters, his arms tight around your chest. 

Something in you lurches in violent opposition to the word “home.” Something else, something new and growing and frighteningly eager, feels at peace.

[filthforfriends]

Thank you for the awesome insight to your process!!! It’s so interesting. I was always too shy to ask and then someone did. I think it could be very cool if we ever got a Dami pov chapter. I know you’re almost finished but the chapter in SITCOE right at the end from both of them when they are all happy and back together and good 😊 a girl can dream 😏😏😏😏😏

Also reading about your approach to writing smut is SO COOL and I love that you love that we eat it all up. I truly think that second to your unmatched and astounding dialogue and descriptions of your characters emotions, the thing that you are the absolute best writer that I know at is that raw humanity in your smut.

Sometimes it feels like there is literal crack hiding in your stories so I decided to end this with a list of scenes you wrote that live rent free in my head:

(I don’t know what’s up with me and lists atm)

1. Damiano coming home drenched from the rain and the breakthrough that happens in their relationship and communication (You can’t own me)

2. The first time Damiano and y/n share his sweatshirt (Guardian Angel)

3. Damiano and y/n showering together (Guardian Angel)

4. Y/n being territorial while making out with Damiano against the car (Guardian Angel)

5. Sharing the wine glass (Dilfiano)

6. The call when she is scared and Damiano kind of sounding like himself again (The Sun is the Center of Everything)

7. The first knot that didn’t hurt alpha Damiano (Guardian Angel)

8. The horny flirting and Damiano struggling a little but as he gets his mojo back (The Sun is the Center of Everything)

9. THAT phonecall (The Sun is the Center of Everything)

10. The first time y/n goes little again (The Sun is the Center of Everything)

11. Offering Damiano to come home after rehab (The Sun is the Center of Everything)

There are more but I should maybe stop….. You know I love you but I get that it’s also nice to hear or in this case read it sometimes.

You deserve every bit of props and recognition and praise and you are awesome. I absolutely understand how that voice in your head sucks. Just know that what you do is incredible work. Take your time when you need and know that we are always there to praise you all you want when you need it ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Love 💧

Excuse me while I sob ♥️

Also I wish I was almost done with The Sun Is the Center of Everything at 17 chapters but unfortunately it looks like it’s gonna go into the mid-20s. But yes, there will be a happy ending.

[beardedmrbean]

WASHINGTON − James Freed, the manager of a lakeside city in Michigan called Port Huron, remembers the first time the follower posted a comment on his Facebook page. There were no words, just three "weird" smiley faces.

"Creepy," Freed recalled. "When I saw the smiley faces, I knew who this was."

The poster, Freed knew, was Kevin Lindke, who the local newspaper describes as a "social media figure." Lindke describes himself as an advocate who "goes after" public officials he believes are "unethical and dishonest." After Lindke criticized Freed's handling of the COVID-19 pandemic in another comment, Freed had enough.

And so Freed blocked Lindke from his Facebook page.

First Amendment: How the Supreme Court could upend the internet

That decision now sits at the center of a case before the Supreme Court with potentially enormous consequences for how government officials − from the president of the United States to school custodians − interact with the public online. The dispute between the two men on the shore of Lake Huron could lead to a ruling that sets the terms for how voters nationwide communicate with and criticize public officials on social media.

The smiling emojis weren't creepy, Lindke says. They were activism. And they were protected by the First Amendment.

"That's just him trying to make me look bad," Lindke said. "Everything I'm doing is basically to give a voice to the people who don't have one."

The Supreme Court will hear oral arguments in the case, and another raising the same question, on Halloween.

"Civic dialogue increasingly takes place on social media, but it's a context where the boundaries between what's personal and what's official are much blurrier," said Evelyn Danforth-Scott, a staff attorney at the American Civil Liberties Union, which is siding with Lindke in the case.

“Getting this distinction right is critical – it ensures that government officials cannot evade constitutional limits like the First Amendment and the Equal Protection Clause by claiming to be acting in their personal capacity," Danforth-Scott said.

Raccoon and dog pictures: Are they a 'state action'?

Freed created his Facebook page in college, sometime before 2008, and over the years posted about the sort of humdrum of everyday life that billions of people share on the site: the raccoons in his garbage, his dog's birthday, pictures of his family. About a decade ago, Freed reached the site's 5,000-friend limit and converted his account to a public "page."

No other city employees had access to it and he posted to the site on his own time.

"If I thought that this was a public page, not private, I would never have posted photos of my kids. I would never have posted what I ate for dinner, you know?" said Freed, who was hired as Port Huron's city manager in 2014. "I believe more than 80% of the posts are all family stuff."

But it wasn't all family stuff. Sometimes Freed re-posted press releases from the city fire department. He occasionally answered constituent questions about city services. The post that really bothered Lindke went up in the early days of the pandemic: A picture of Freed and the mayor ordering takeout from a local restaurant.

"It's a very nice little café, but it's a little bit more expensive," Lindke said. "When everyone in the community is trying to figure out how they're going to pay their mortgage and put food on the table, it just rubbed me the wrong way."

The question for the Supreme Court is whether public officials who have their own social media presence are acting in their official capacity when they post to those sites. If a majority of the justices decide that Freed’s Facebook page was part of his government work, then that would trigger the next question, likely to be decided by a lower court: At a time when many Americans interact with public officials online, did blocking Lindke violate the First Amendment?

“The cases focus very narrowly on the question of state action: When is a government official acting as a government official as opposed to a private citizen?” said Alex Abdo, litigation director at the Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University. It’s a threshold question but “a very important one,” he said.

The Supreme Court, Abdo added, is “taking it one step at a time.”

How Biden, Trump factor into the 'cancel' case

It's not the first time the question has been raised at the Supreme Court. Three years ago, former President Donald Trump brought a similar case to the justices.

Trump invited the court fight in 2017 by blocking users following his account on what was then called Twitter, now X. Seven users went to court, charging that Trump was seeking to "suppress dissent." A federal appeals court in New York sided against Trump in 2019 but the Supreme Court said in 2021 that the case was moot − since the Republican had by then left the White House − and it tossed the lower court's decision aside.

The current case, Lindke v. Freed, is one of several pending before the Supreme Court that examine the intersection of social media and the government. In one set of cases, the court will decide if Texas and Florida violated the First Amendment with laws that limit the ability of platforms like Facebook, YouTube and X to moderate content. In another case, the court will decide if officials in the White House and federal agencies violated the First Amendment when they leaned on social media companies to suppress content about the election and COVID-19.

The 6th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in Cincinnati sided with Freed last year, ruling that his Facebook page was "personal." President Joe Biden's administration also backs Freed in a brief filed by the Justice Department.

But in another, similar case the Supreme Court will also hear Tuesday involving two members of a school board in California, the San Francisco-based 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals sided with the voters. The school board members created a public forum with their social media pages, that court ruled, and they violated the First Amendment by blocking parents from posting criticism of the school system on the pages.

Despite the years-long fight between Freed and Lindke, the two men agree the Supreme Court's opinion, expected next year, should bring needed clarity about how much control public officials have over their social media presence. Both men said they will travel to Washington to watch the justices debate the case.

"At this point, it's not even about me," Freed said.

"Now," Lindke said, "both sides are going to know what public officials can and can't do."

[oh-phineas]

Write your RPer Resolutions for 2023! (What are some goals for yourself as a writer? Improve descriptions? Plot with more members? Etc.)

Following up and seeing things through! I had a version of this on here last year, but I think it still stands. I’m not a very organized person and I really tend to go with the flow as a RPer, which I think is fine because I’m just here to have fun, but I think I probably miss out on some fun connections and opportunities by forgetting to do the “confirm end of thread— see if the other person wants to do something new” thing when a thread is winding down. I def do this sometimes but I also frequently forget or let a thread fizzle without checking in and I just want to be more proactive about that. I’d also like to be more organized about plots I’m organizing, making sure I’m circling back on them if they hit a stalled moment.

Communication and being direct. I also always put this on my resolutions lol and I’ll talk about this more in my plotting style answers, but even though I know I come off chatty in main and often approach people for plots I can be kind of shy lmao which is SILLY y’all are my FRIENDS but ya know how it is. I just would like to be better about saying “hey, these characters are vibing, I might ship them!” or “hey, this thread is getting intense, we good with this direction?” Or “I have this goal, would you be down for helping see it happen?” Because I think the thing I tend to do instead is just hold back and hedge in my replies and I think it can make for more vibrant and exciting threads if I just communicate and then we can both jump in full force!

Showing not telling, and cooling it with the editorializing. I know this is a thing I have done for YEARS. I have a tendency to overexplain my characters’ actions, which I think can be good for comedic/dramatic effect sometimes, but I also think it can get a little heavy-handed and I just don’t think it’s a great habit to be in all the time. Like yes there is something funny about saying “Lightning just ignored that comment because he was a self-centered jerk and it was inconvenient for him to hear” but I think I need to find ways to communicate those things more… artistically idk and trust my audience to draw their own conclusions. Because y’all are smart! Tbh I think the problem is I get embarrassed when my characters do certain things and feel the need to like… distance myself from them and show that I don’t condone this even though I think it’s quite obvious. And if it’s not well that’s what the tags are for lmfao.

Write at least one resolution, or “goal,” that you have as an RPer for your character(s)

Phineas: I want him to get in some sticky situations in the classic Flynn fashion :) But I also like when he learns something from these situations, so… idk boy has grown a LOT over the past few years. He’s done a lot of reflecting and changing and idk I think it’d be kind of cool if someone wrongs HIM and he realizes that he can’t always fix every situation through trying to be better, sometimes he just can’t change the other person’s behavior only how he reacts. I think that’d be cool. Alsoooo I’m excited about his newest business venture and I’d love to create some drama around that, whether it’s Phinnip drama or stuff with investors or clients or employees and just… yes. I’m simply obsessed with startup culture idk.

Tiana: Talked about this a lot in my voice memos but this year I’d really like Tiana to get tempted by fame/fortune/accolades/etc and lose sight of the point of Tiana’s Place a little bit and then learn a lesson. I don’t know how I’m going to make this happen but I think I just need to have a deep brainstorming session and really think it through. I’d also like to do more with her friend group and the awkward situation she’s kind of in with Vixey and Drakken and I’d REALLY love for her to date around a little and idk see what happens!

Aquata: Struggle through Board stuff some more. She has some BIG goals and I have a feeling they are probably not going to work out exactly the way she wants them to because they are BIG. And of course at the end of the day what she really wants is for the world to be safe enough that she can be out about being a mermaid, which is never going to happen unfortunately. So I think it’s also cool for her to achieve some goals and then still see they’re not going to get her exactly where she wants to be. I’d also like to explore her aversion to change, especially because there are a LOT of big changes coming for her family (JEFF is dating! Lana’s moving! Tina’s having a baby!) And she feels very Jo March about it if you catch my drift. I think that’ll be fun. And of course more fun stuff with the gym and her friend group there and school shenanigans with Drakken.

Anna: More interpersonal conflict! I’m really digging how many enemies she’s made lately and I have some fun plans for how that’s gonna intensify. She’s gone a slightly different direction from what I originally envisioned but I love this WAY more tbh and I’m really excited. I also need to figure out what she’s doing when she graduates, so I’d love to do more with her and older/mentor figures as well as her research/dissertation.

Bruce: Start his support group!! I’ve been building to this for a long time and the timing was just never right but I think we’re finally going to get there soon. He’s had a big turning point recently and had a lot of things come to a head and I think this is my opportunity to finally get this going. And I have another goal that I’ve alluded to a little bit I kind of don’t want to spoil it (it’s really not a big deal but it’s a big deal to HIM so…. ya.)

Annie: I want to explore more of her relationship to motherhood? She has some big stuff related to this coming up soon and I think also with the way I’ve been playing with her relationship to her mom lately I think it’s a good time for this. Because it’s really complicated for Annie and it’s more than just the “mommy blogger” “proud mama” etc persona that Annie portrays and honestly there’s a lot of stuff I never figured out so I just want to dig into that more. Maybe she needs more mom friends/enemies. Much to contemplate.

Tanya: More slice of life stuff. Typical college kid stuff like going to parties, maybe helping out around the Inn, having some RESPONSIBILITY for once, maybe even… getting a job??? Crazy I know. I would also really like to explore her relationship to death and life more, so this is a plot call for Demi… plz plz plz… although if that doesn’t work out I do think talking to our lovely mediums and spooky folks could help with this plot as well.

Mirabel: Definitely some school struggles. Moving back to Swynlake and having a support system has been really good for her mental health, but I’d also like to explore the idea that changing your circumstances CAN make a big difference but you also can’t keep ignoring the underlying problems. And I think it’ll be really frustrating for her in a good way if she’s worked so hard and changed so much and she just keeps struggling (because… look it’s a feeling I think we’ve all dealt with and I just rlly want to explore it as a writer) And once Mirabel starts addressing those underlying problems, maybe that can inspire the people around her to be more honest with herself and each other too. Just an idea :)

Lightning: Keep developing things with Cruz! This is gonna be a slow slow process and I do not want to rush anything at all, but I think the more we have them interact the richer their relationship can get. I also wanna have a major setback, like maybe they finally make some progress and then Lightning fucks up, etc. All things to consider. I also want to explore his flirty side more even though it literally makes me, the cringe captain, cringe so hard I wanna crawl in a hole sorry he is just SOO embarrassing but I promise it’s fun. Basically yeah I just wanna keep humbling him lmfao. Oh also a big one is I ammmm gonna need an excuse for him to stay in Swynlake this summer so… gotta figure that out.

Smee: My newbie! Definitely want to do some adventures with Hook and the boy (idk why it just tickles me calling him THE BOY) as they prepare for their big departure. I also want to flesh out some backstory stuff, whether that’s through self paras, flashback threads, creative tasks, etc as he is my oldest character by far and has a lot of history. I want to build up more trust with the good people of Swynlake and SHATTER IT. We don’t rlly have anyone his age but maybe it could be an NPC or someone’s grandparent/parent— I think it’d be fun for Smee to date someone and have to break up with them to go hunt a crocodile lmao in a very “I MUST PROTECT YOU FROM THIS DARK WORLD” way lmao. Just think it would be dramatic but also kind of funny. Would love to draw some more people into the poaching world as he has done it before :) And idk give Squeaky the life of her dreams, my best dog

Write at least one resolution IN CHARACTER for your characters. What do THEY want to accomplish or change in the New Year?

Phineas: Finish making his app with Kim! Get an acapella solo! Get Build a Brand on the New York Stock Exchange! (Kidding but maybe just develop that and get some clients). Figure out his love life lmfao. Be legendary :)

Tiana: Keep Tiana’s Place open. Maybe attract some press attention! Support her friends. Create a delicious recipe that Seb can eat. Maybe meet someone…? And finally get over Jess :( Find a way to save Aurora!

Aquata: Pass her big initiatives and fulfill her campaign promises. Figure out how she feels about her dad dating Simba’s mom (ok she doesn’t reflect on her feelings enough to consciously want to do this but I think somewhere deep down she’s like I need to figure my shit out). Get out of Swynlake Secondary or get Prickly fired or something… but also she does want to make the Outdoors Club successful. Deep down. 

Anna: Finish her dissertation! Help with the Town Hall archive project! Help Evy at work, learn how to drive, get better at cooking, improve her fashion game, read more books… oh yeah and figure out what she wants to do with the rest of her life.

Bruce: Figure his sharky little problem out… like for real for real. It’s not cute anymore.

Anastasia: Get what she wants in this custody dispute with Tom. Gain and maintain control of Southern Isles. Figure out who was behind the Pumpkin Smashing Incident. Bounce back from being cancelled last year. Help Toby with his big Hatter’s story! And maybe find another side hustle girl is struggling on the money front lol.

Tanya: New Year’s Resolutions are for suckers (but uhhh maybe… go to more parties with Mim and help Snow out around the Inn…)

Mirabel: Pass her exams, keep her life on track, go on more dates with Alice :) Figure out what she wants to do with her life lol

Lightning: Get the all clear from Harv so that he can get out of this place lmfao (and… okay, maybe he does really want to figure out what’s broken in his relationship with Cruz and try to fix it… not that he’s admitting to himself anything is broken…)

Smee: Help Hook get his revenge, help Gen find the item she’s searching for, keep his business going strong, and give Squeaky lots of belly rubs <3

List one or more characters you have never interacted with that you would like to do so

Okay so… I THINK I may have technically interacted with everyone in the RP (yay yay go Emma first prize for Emma yayyy) but here are some characters I know I have BARELY interacted with that I’d like to do more with.

Ting-Ting Qin: Can’t believe Ting-Ting is on this list again. I literally love her so much. Technically, I have interacted with Ting-Ting twice, once with Phineas when she was stuck in Mei’s body and the other time with Tanya on Christmas. I definitely think I could do something with both characters, the former because Phineas did cause so much drama in the Qin family earlier this year lol and is still friends with Mei, and the latter because Tanya just sent the Qins cookies and idk maybe running into one of them would be fun.

Flynn Rider: I think I may have had Anna interact with him once, but I’d really love to throw Bruce at him in light of the Holley situation lol. I’m not sure how much he knows the story there but I just think that with Bruce knowing Holley there could be something there.

Kristoff Bjorgman: Technically Tiana did a cooking lesson with him way back when and he had to go to the emergency room. I think that’s about it lol. But I love him!!! I’m sure there are all kinds of firefighter shenanigans I can use, or maybe something with his troll connections re: Smee!

Talk a bit about your plotting style – what plots are you most drawn to? Do you prefer to come with a fully-formed idea and plot off that, or throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks?

In terms of plots I’m drawn to, I’m very open to lots of different things! In general, I think I tend to gravitate toward the lighthearted and humorous, but with an emotional core if that makes sense. Basically, I think a lot of my plots tend to resemble a sitcom episode, lol. But that’s just the plots I tend to come up with— I’m generally down to write any genre, and I always like trying new things. The only thing I won’t do is smut— but I’m definitely open to exploring relationships of that nature, as long as we use the fade-to-black moments :) I love plots that drive character growth, that teach characters lessons, and that complicate relationships. But I also enjoy plots that are just silly and fun to write… my favorite are a combination of both of those things!

I think I’m probably more of a “throw stuff at the wall” person when it comes to plotting with new muns/characters and more of a “fully formed idea” person when I have a better sense of what we’re working with. Like sometimes I have an idea that I need to fit some characters into, and then I approach those people! Other times, I’m just looking to feel out the vibes and find a way to throw two characters together. But that is also sooo flexible. The one thing I will say is idk if I’m a big hc person before the characters have interacted… like of course if there’s a family connection or if we’re plotting an existing backstory (friends/exes/coworkers/etc) I definitely want to talk that through. But I get really excited to get RPing, and I kind of like to let the hc stuff come up as we write! So if it seems like I’m not like coming up with a lot of great stuff ahead of time I promise it’s not that I’m not excited, it’s just that my brain needs some time to like warm up lol. And I am always receptive to ur head canons and excited to hear them… I’m just not always the best at coming up with them myself before we’ve felt out the chemistry ya feel.

But that being said… always feel free to come to me no matter how developed or nebulous your idea is! If you have a goal and you don’t know how to get there, I love the brainstorming process and I’m always down to figure out how we can make it happen <3 

Talk a bit about character relationships – what relationship are you most drawn to? How do you prefer to approach shipping (if at all!)? What, specifically, are you looking for right now for your character relationships? 

Like a lot of us, I really love friendships and family relationships. I like chill ones, sweet friends and happy families, but I also really love complicated weird hard stuff. I’m fascinated by miscommunication and resentment and judgment and power imbalances and how characters’ flaws impact the way they relate to one another. I think sometimes I hesitate to jump into this stuff right away because I definitely don’t want to make anyone uncomf or ruin anything for people, but if you’re down for that kind of stuff, always come hit me up. I really enjoy when my character gets to be the bad guy in interpersonal conflict even if they mean well and especially if they can learn something from it.

On that note, I enjoy enemies! Some of my characters have more of ‘em than others but I love ‘em all! I like when two characters simply don’t vibe, I like when they have ideological differences, I like when they used to be friends/partners but something caused a rift, I like when they have a deep tragic dramatic 200kslowburn reason for despising each other. Love it all. It’s no secret that one of my favorite dynamics of all time is the reluctant team-up: I do this over and over and over again lmao. Just love getting two characters who don’t like each other forced into a situation together with a common goal. Something about it idk lmaoooo. Maybe this is the Libra in me but I just like conflicts where nobody is right and also everyone is right and it’s complicated. 

As for shipping, I enjoy it! I am all about the canon ship, the hypothetical ship, the crackship, the AU ship, the short term ship, the slowburn ship, the ship that could be a ship but probably is just a friendship, all of it. I usually tend to write more short-term relationships and stuff with an end plotted out than “endgame” ships, but I’m open to both. Either way, I do like to feel out the chemistry before jumping into things.

I do want to improve my communication when it comes to shipping. Like many of us, I get shy lol (and afraid of coming off like I’m pressuring people) but I promise I’ll never take it personally if I pitch something and you’re not into it. We’ll just workshop until we have a direction that works for both of us! I also want to improve this because I really enjoy conflict in my relationships (this includes romantic ones) but I can hesitate with initiating it when it’s someone I haven’t shipped with before and I’m not sure if the other person is on the same page. So I want to get better at communicating so we can be on the same page and jump into all those juicy plots!

Talk about your dash reply style and your Discord reply style! (And if applicable, also your doc reply style). What do you like about each type of interaction? What is something you feel is difficult? 

I try to do some dash replies every day if I can! I usually post stuff right away, but I’ll sometimes queue if I know I have a busy week/weekend coming up or if I’ve gotten a LOT of replies on a character at once and I want to space them out. Usually I’ll indicate in #ooc-updates if I plan on queueing for IRL reasons. I like dash because it’s easy to keep track of, and I feel like it lets me take my time with replies and be very intentional about them. Time to marinate on ‘em, ya feel?

I like Discord and docs for time-sensitive stuff that I want to bang out quickly. I have a harder time with long-term Discord and doc stuff because I’m less likely to put it on my tracker and it can slip past me. So if it’s been a few days on something, always feel free to poke me :) I also like Discord stuff for quick back-and-forth stuff for relationship development or simply because I’m bored and want to RP <3 

In general, though, I’m very flexible! I lean more toward dash, but if other formats are easier for you for whatever reason for a given thread, just let me know and I’ll go with the flow.=

Plotting Exercise! Pick one of the resolutions/goals in #3 and plan a rough guideline to how you could accomplish it. Here’s an example.

ANNIE’S RECKONING WITH MOTHERHOOD/HARLYNNE’S DANCE CLASS

ANNIE is chatting with CORA about signing Harlynne up for ballet class, and CORA suggests that since Harlynne is pretty young, she should come to the parent/kid dance class at the gym

At the dance class, ANNIE runs into ELENA (#awkward) who is there with the twins. She tries to make small talk afterward by making some snarky comments about how it wasn’t “real” dance and Elena’s attitude about just getting to spend time with the kids makes her pause.

Still feeling snobby about the dance thing, ANNIE takes Harlynne to the dance showcase at Pride U (along with Rodmilla). She runs into GABRIELLA afterward, who mentions that she also dances at the Court. Rodmilla is scandalized and tells Annie that she really shouldn’t be bringing Harlynne to these dance lessons.

SELF PARA: Annie and Harlynne fight because Harlynne wants to go back to the dance class. Annie reflects on how much influence her mother still has on her as an adult.

After getting billed for legal fees, Annie concocts a scheme to try and borrow money from ELLA. What’s intended to be some kind of shakedown lol turns into a surprisingly deep conversation about their upbringing.

ANNIE goes to a show at the Court one night, talks to JESSICA afterward. It’s awkward, but maybe it makes her think.

SELF PARA: ANNIE brings Harlynne back to the dance class.

ANNIE runs into BABETTE at the gym, who’s bringing one of the kids she watches to swim class, and recommends the class.

[ear-worthy]

Notes On Loving Podcast: The Ethics Of Loving & The Choice To Be Loved

There's a lot to love about a new British podcast called Notes On Loving.

This podcast "looks at perspectives of implementing love into your everyday life for Black people in Britain." I love that intention. So many podcasts are afraid to define their audience for fear that it will limit their audience. I think this podcast is fearless. It is what it is.

The podcast is hosted by self-proclaimed "lover gyal, (her words, not mine)," curator, and director Aliyah Hasinah. I'm not entirely sure what that description means, but it doesn't matter because Hasinah's audience gets it.

About the podcast, Hasinah says, "Following the Black radical feminist tradition of looking to embody and practice an ethic of loving, as an active choice and lifestyle, over this season we’ll talk about all the types of love and how we can embody this as babes based in the belly of the beast aka Babylon Britain."

I've listened to the trailer and the first episode, and it's obvious to me that Hasinah knows her audience. From the soft, pleasing organ background music that made me feel like I was at a spa to Hasinah's supple, pliable, and creamy voice, Notes On Loving works hard -- and succeeds --to create a vibe for its listeners.

Her interviewing skills are sharp without being sharp-edged. She's an excellent listener, and it shows with her adept follow-up questions.

I am from a different generation (older if you must know), a different nation, and a different race than Hasinah, yet I found myself connecting with her concepts, her vibe, her insights, and those of her guests.

Hasinah describes herself this way: "My name is Aliyah. I’m a curator, writer and filmmaker whose work focuses on decolonial approaches to history and the present day. I curate exhibitions, produce events, festivals, creative strategies, consult on campaigns/projects as well as making films and writing poetry, scripts, and shit captions. I also facilitate and public speak, basically if I enjoy it, I do it."

Now, that's a self-description you don't hear often. But, I love it. Hasinah isn't giving you a summary of her LinkedIn profile like most podcast hosts. She's offering her listeners a wide-open, unfiltered view of her as a person and a host. When talking about love and the central topic of the podcast, Hasinah observes, "It’s important to me that love and care are at the center of my practice, so we can envision and awake new possibilities for ourselves and others, I believe that’s where the true innovation lives. This sometimes means hard conversations are had, but having them enriches the work and understanding further. I will always speak my mind, as I have no business speaking everyone else’s minds."

Notes On Loving is an exploration about love, relationships, and choices. It is definitely not one of those relationship shows where the host and guests discuss such routine activities as, "My boyfriend doesn't pair his socks" or "My girlfriend won't let me watch football."

No, there's more going on here. For example, in the trailer, a guest observes,"When we just seek pleasure, we just find pain."

That's cutting through the morass of loving with penetrating simplicity.

Here are some notes on upcoming episodes:

October 2 -- Guest Alex Holmes - Clinical hypnotherapist, and author of “Time to Talk: How Men Think About Love, Belonging and Connection” "Alex is a master at getting people to the core of themselves, he works supporting men through fatherhood, boyhood and the transitional moments we need to learn to love."

October 10 - Guest Melz Owuzu - Hasinah explores their love within academia, and as a form of spirituality and interpersonal relationships. Founder of the Free Black University, Melz’s practice is informed by their lived experience as a Black queer transgender neurodiverse working-class individual deeply connected to community.

October 30 -- Guests Tania & Haja - Aliyah chats to Tania and Haja about growing through love and surviving London. Tania is an actor, director, poet and co-founder of Black in the Day; a submission based photo archive documenting the lives and experiences of Black people in the UK, hosting events, talks and exhibitions.

November 11 Guest IGGY LDN - Exploring the process and portrayal of love in his work, Hasinah speaks with award-winning filmmaker, artist and writer IGGYLDN. Emerging at the height of the post-Moonlight cultural zeitgeist, IGGYLDN’s films are emotionally dense and touch on themes of identity, community and coming of age.

Notes On Loving is produced by Transmission Roundhouse podcasts, which announces that it is "powered by young people for curious minds."

Here's what great about podcasting. You don't have to be Black, British, or young to enjoy Notes on Loving. Hey, relationships and love are concepts that transcend national and racial boundaries. Host Aliyah Hasinah has a specific audience in mind for her show, but I'm sure she welcomes listeners from all backgrounds and locations.

After all, writer Henry Miller once said of loving: "The only thing we never get enough of is love; and the only thing we never give enough of is love."