#thankfully I was only in there for like fifteen minutes because the other people I was with are also autistic/neurodivergent

[enbydindjarin]

Today I learnt that arcades are not a good idea if you’re autistic🙃

[togenabi]

pick me up

roronoa zoro (opla) x reader

♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

word count♡— 3.2k

genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader

content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!

“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 

“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”

Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 

“Because they were overbored!” 

Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 

You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”

“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.

Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”

The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.

“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.

The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 

“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”

“...”

“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.

Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”

“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”

Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.

“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?

But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.

“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 

“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.

You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.

“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.

“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.

“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.

“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 

“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”

Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.

Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.

You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”

“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.

“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 

Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 

Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”

You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”

“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.

“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”

Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.

Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 

The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”

Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”

You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”

Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 

Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.

You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.

“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 

And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.

“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 

As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.

“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.

“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”

You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.

“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”

You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”

Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”

That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”

She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”

“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”

“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”

You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”

“Of course, my gem.”

“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”

The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.

After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.

“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”

“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.

“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”

“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”

“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.

You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.

…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?

“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”

You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.

But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.

You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”

Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”

You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.

Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”

The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.

You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 

“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.

“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.

“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”

Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.

“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 

“I’d like that.” 

Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.

He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.

In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”

Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.

Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”

“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.

“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.

“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”

Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”

Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.

“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”

“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”

“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 

Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”

Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.

“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”

Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 

“I have an idea.”

When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 

But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 

You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”

“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?

You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 

But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?

“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 

You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?

“...Can I be part of your future?”

That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.

No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 

“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.

“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“You said I always stick to your side.”

He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”

“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”

That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”

Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”

His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 

“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.

Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 

“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 

“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.

After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.

“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 

“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 

You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.

Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)

“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.

“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.

“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”

“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

taglist: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @hi3431 @akakaze @lownna

[pluvpluvpluv]

Study Break

18+ || MDNI || Content Warnings: SMUT, characters aged up, established relationship, language, praise kink, thigh riding, lil bit of breeding kink, semi public sex I think that covers it all

Word Count: 1480 exactly

Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

A/N: Happy Thirsty Thursday :) This was written in one sitting and not edited at all. I read through it once before going “yeah post it”

~~~

MC was ready for summer. Summer meant NEWTs were done and she could take a month or so off to celebrate and relax before diving headfirst into her next adventure. She had spent the last two summers under an apprenticeship with Fatima Lawang, making the trip from Feldcroft to Keenbridge every day to study and learn business from someone she truly looked up to. She would be opening a small apothecary in the hamlet she now called home. It was a wonderful location, since she knew Bernard really stuck to selling beast byproducts and plants. She wouldn’t be encroaching on his market, and she could also source ingredients from him. It was going to be, thankfully, a mutually beneficial existence.

She had moved to Feldcroft at the end of their fifth year. Sebastian had nowhere else to live over the summer months, she really had nowhere to live over that time, and neither wanted to be alone. So, when that first year had come to an end, she just followed him home. He had started courting her about halfway through that summer. She had accepted and they had practically lived together like a married couple ever since.

Before she could get to the summer and enjoy her newfound freedom with the love of her life, she had to pass the NEWTs. In order to get her apothecary license, she needed to score high in Potions and Herbology at the very least, but that wasn’t going to be enough for her. The reputation of saving the wizarding world at fifteen years old meant she was expected to do exceedingly well on all of her NEWTs, and she was determined to do so.

She had taken up residence in one of the more secluded corners of the library. It always ensured that MC wouldn’t have to share the table and she could have all of her books open and spread out. Only a select few people knew of where she hid out to study, which limited the interruptions. Except in the case of her boyfriend.

She didn’t know how long she had really been studying when Sebastian finally sat beside her. She didn’t even look up from rereading a paragraph she had already read ten times before. She still retained nothing.

“MC. Love, you missed lunch. I brought you some food.”

“Thanks Bash. I’ll eat it in a minute. I just need to understand what this page is saying.”

He set the plate down and moved the book.

“Considering it’s well past lunch and I didn’t even see you at breakfast, I think you can’t understand the page because you’re hungry. Eat and take a break.”

MC glared at him, debating whether or not it would be worth the argument since they were both the most stubborn person the other had met. That train of thought was interrupted by a rather loud growl as she was betrayed by her own stomach. She ate the food that he brought her without further complaint.

While she ate, Sebastian sat beside her and scanned over the tomes she had laid out on the table. She was paying more attention to him instead. The way that his eyebrows furrowed when he was focused on a paragraph in one of the books and the way his lips moved silently with the words. She focused on his hands as he turned the page and the way that the muscles in his exposed forearms flexed even with that small movement. She could feel herself growing hotter by the second, and it led to the realization that she and Sebastian hadn’t been intimate in nearly three weeks. It could’ve been a record, honestly. Even before he was courting her, after they took each other’s virginities that first summer in Feldcroft, they hardly went more than a couple days without going after each other. The joys of two students living with no chaperone.

“I can feel you staring holes in the side of my head, MC. Have you finished eating? Do you want me to read to you to see if that helps you understand the material better?”

The way he cared for her had also always been one of her favorite things. She had never been good at keeping herself in check, but Sebastian always did his best to make sure she didn’t overextend herself.

“I—uh it’s mostly gone. But I was thinking about something else.”

“Were you? Care to share with the class, darling?”

“I could use your help. Just in a different way.”

He looked at her curiously for a moment before it seemed he registered the look on her face and his expression grew more heated.

“Have you been thinking too much? Do you want to turn that brilliant brain off for a minute?”

His tone was condescending, and while it would normally agitate her when he spoke to her that way, this time it felt different. She nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving his own while a smirk grew on his face.

“Do you remember over the winter holiday, you told me about how one of the girls had talked about grinding on a pillow when she didn’t want to do things herself and I made you do it for me? We don’t have a pillow here, but I bet I could have you grinding on something else and feeling as good as you did that night. Come sit on my thigh, darling. We’ll see if you can ride me like you rode that pillow. Maybe you’ll make just as big a mess on me.”

As she settled in on his lap, she was grateful she had opted for a skirt instead of one of the few outfits she had with pants. The back of the skirt that draped over her boyfriend’s knee would hopefully help hide what they were doing if anyone were to stumble back and find them.

She gave an experimental roll of her hips, and she felt Sebastian’s thigh flex beneath her. MC let out a shaky exhale as she did it again. The thin fabric of her knickers and the coarse fabric of Sebastian’s quidditch pants provided the most delicious friction to her clit. Sebastian’s large hands settled on her hips beneath her skirt, the feel of his fingertips on her bare skin lighting her nerves on fire.

“Make sure you stay quiet. Don’t need anyone hearing how I’m helping you study,” his voice purred, the effect going straight to her core.

As she grew more confident, her pace picked up. Sebastian helped, tensing his thigh and slightly pushing her hips down when she rolled them to make sure that the bundle of nerves she was focused on didn’t go a second without feeling something.

“That’s it, darling. Use me. Grind that needy little cunt on my thigh.”

MC gasped softly, biting her lip as the familiar tension in her lower stomach began to build. She was able to keep her volume down, but she couldn’t keep herself from whining and whimpering completely.

“Bash. Oh gods. I-I’m~”

“Keep going, darling. I can feel how bad you need it. That pretty pussy is drooling through my trousers. You’re making such a mess for me, my good girl. Go on. Cum on my thigh. You can do it, honey.”

With his encouragement and permission, she felt herself giving into the pleasure as her orgasm hit. Her hips stuttered, but Sebastian kept her in rhythm. She registered his low moan too, her chest heaving as she started to come down from her high.

MC’s hand moved to where she assumed she’d find Sebastian’s bulge, hard and aching for the attention she wanted to give it. Instead, her hand landed on a warm, wet patch on the front of his trousers.

“Sebastian Sallow,” she spoke his name low and soft, her frazzled brain slowly putting the pieces together as she looked up at him. “You came in your pants. Untouched. Because of me?”

The boy’s freckled cheeks flooded with color as he blushed. Her normally suave boyfriend seemed embarrassed by this turn of events.

“I may have. You didn’t see yourself. Or hear yourself for that matter. I didn’t realize it was going to happen until it just…happened.”

“That is one of the hottest things you’ve ever done. If we can sneak down to the library floo flame without getting caught, we can make it to the ROR. And I can give you something else to cum in.”

He let out a dark chuckle, looking at her with blown pupils.

“You think this is a game, MC? Hmm? Merlin, I’m gonna get you so fucking pregnant.”

Her eyes widened, and she couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from her lips. She was still giddy as she pulled him down the stairs and towards the floo flame on the back wall.

Thank Merlin for study breaks.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Okay, y'all, it's rant time again. Buckle up.

A new report just came out from Public Citizen highlighting the dangers of using apps and AI foraging guides for identifying mushrooms, particularly when mushroom foraging. It's the latest in a string of warnings that are fighting against a tide of purported convenience ("just take a picture and get your answer instantly!")

I've ranted about this since last August, and I also wrote up a detailed post on how to identify an AI-generated foraging guide. I'm also including info on the limitations of apps and AI in The Everyday Naturalist: How to Identify Animals, Plants, and Fungi Wherever You Go. I'm not just saying this to toot my own horn--it's because nature identification, and teaching it to others, is literally what I do for a living. So this is a topic near and dear to my heart.

I teach a very, very specific sort of identification class; whether we're focusing on animals, plants, fungi, or all of the above, I walk people through a detailed process of how to observe a given organism, make note of its various physical traits and habitat, and use that information to try to determine what it is. I emphasize the need to use as many sources as possible--field guides, websites, online and in-person groups, journal articles, etc.--to make absolutely sure that your identification is solid.

And every year, I get people (thankfully, a very small minority of my students) who complain because my two-hour basic mushroom hunting class wasn't just five minutes of introduction and one hundred and fifteen minutes of me showing slide after slide of edible mushrooms. There are so many people out there who just want a quick, easy answer so they can frolic in the woods and blithely pick mushrooms like some idealized image of a cottagecore herbalist with a cabin full of dried plants and smiling frogs or something.

While I do incorporate a bit of information on getting started with the app iNaturalist in my classes, it is as only ONE of MANY tools I encourage people to use. Sure, it's more solid than most apps because, in addition to the algorithmic I.D. suggestions it initially gives you, other iNaturalist users can go onto your observations later and either agree with your I.D.s or suggest something different and even explain why.

And yet--even as great as iNat is, it and its users can still be wrong. So can every other I.D. app out there. And I think that is one thing that the hyper-romanticized approaches to foraging--and nature identification in general--miss. In order to be a good forager, you HAVE to also be good at nature identification.

And nature identification is an entire process that requires you to have solid observational and critical thinking skills, to be able to independently research using many different types of tools, and be willing to invest the time, patience, and focus to properly arrive at a solid identification--if not to species level, then as far down the taxonomic ladder as you can realistically manage. (There's a reason even the experts complain about Little Brown Mushrooms and Damned Yellow Composites!)

People mistake one single tool--apps--for the entire toolkit. They assume any book they find on Amazon is going to be as good as any other, and don't take the time to look up the author to determine any credentials or experience, or even whether they actually exist or not. It doesn't help that the creators of these products often advertise them as "the only [book/app/etc.] you need to easily identify [organism of choice]!"

I mean, sure, the world isn't going to end if you never question the birdsong results on the Merlin app, or if you go through life thinking a deer fern is just a baby western sword fern. But when we get into people actually eating things they find in the wild, there's often no room for error. There are plants and mushrooms that can kill you even if you only eat a tiny amount. And even if they don't kill you, they may make you wish you were dead for a few days while you suffer through a whole host of gastrointestinal nastiness and other symptoms.

There aren't any shortcuts if you want to be safe in your foraging. You HAVE to be willing to do the work. And any teacher, author, or product that says otherwise isn't being ethical. I'm glad to see more people speaking out against the "fast foodization" of foraging in regards to overreliance on apps and the existence of AI foraging books; I just hope it's enough to prevent more people from getting sick or dying.

[astrae4]

WARDROBE WONDERS | choi chanhee

pairing: theboyz’s agent!chanhee x agent!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity (wc. 861)

warnings: hateful words towards each other, mention of guns and violence, they’re stealing things…

notes: forgot to post this in drafts…

more works: navigation | tbz!mlist

YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. You must have used up your luck this week after you found a five dollar bill under your couch and got a free pass to the onsen because you were their 1000th customer. You shouldn’t have passed that tiktok video saying that you’d have bad luck this week if you didn’t use their sound. (You believe it’s bullsht but you’d do anything to not be in this position right now.)

How else would you have landed a duo mission with Choi Chanhee of all people? The probability isn’t even small.

“Head out of the clouds, dumbass,” said the man, breaking you out of your trance, “Gosh, I wonder how you got chosen when a child has a better attention span than you.”

Ah right, you forgot that you were breaking into some billionaire’s mansion right now, trying to decode this fancy air vent door without notifying the whole world that ‘Hey! Two agents are trying to break in a house right now to steal some important documents!”

“Well it seems that this dumbass got chosen because unlike someone, they got the highest mark in the agent training program.”

You could practically sense his eye roll as you concentrated on opening the lock.

“Well hurry up, we don’t have all night—”

Click.

The sound of the vent door unlocking seemed to shut him up as you both put aside your dislike of each other to focus on completing the mission unharmed.

At the very least, you both knew when to stop spiting each other when the mission truly starts getting a bit life-threatening.? (worst thing that could happen was death, no biggie!)

I was silent as you both crawled inside the vents, and it was silent too when you both lowered yourself down inside the designated room.

Man, was this place screaming money. The room was huge—you think it could be the size of a hockey rink. It was supposedly a ‘guest room’ so it had beds and everything, but obviously, not everything is as it seems. This room contained many important documents (in hiding) and they had approximately 20 minutes to find it before security finishes their break shift.

Immediately, you both were against time to search this place.

It probably took around fifteen minutes before you saw a sealed envelope inside a hidden cabinet under the bed. You reached for it and smiled when you saw a red stamp. Yep, this was it.

“Got it, let’s go.” you said, turning to Chanhee. He nodded, tidying up both your traces.

However, just before you could open the vent door for your escape, the sound of footsteps could be heard. Both your heads turned to each other in alarm.

“In here,” Chanhee whisper-shouted, opening the wardrobe. Both of you immediately went in and shut it cautiously.

The door opens and you both hold your breaths. Thankfully, you didn’t leave anything suspicious. It only took a minute before the noise of a door closing could be heard, and the footsteps left alongside it.

You take out a breath of relief, before turning to Chanhee��

Oh, wait.

Only now did you realize your positions.

The wardrobe was SMALL. Like—XXS Bella Hadid small. (😏) Chanhee was under you, his legs shut together. His legs were long, though, so you could feel his knees pressing against your back as you were on your knees, both legs on either side of him. With no space between, you realize his hands made itself comfortable on your waist as yours did beside his head. You were so close to him—so so close that in fact, when you looked at him, you were only wee centimeters away from his face. You felt hot, and it surely wasn’t because of the temperature.

“Staring’s a bad habit, babe,” the said man whispered, a smirk on his face. You could feel your face flush as annoyance bubbled up your throat, but you forced everything down as you bit back your hand which was incredibly close to landing itself towards Chanhee’s face.

“So is being delusional if you think anyone in their right mind would find you attractive,” you spited, before opening the wardrobe slowly.

The road back towards the roof was quiet, as neither wanted to alert anything and risk themself to be caught.

Finally, you thought as you reached the escape van parked a few miles away from the mansion, I should enjoy a hot tub after this—

The alarms blared.

Ah, spoke too soon.

You hurried into the shotgun, same did Chanhee in the driver’s seat as he accelerated quickly. You could hear screams, security noticing you and starting to chase after you. Gunshots could be heard, as well as screams. You unload your gun to start shooting at them back as well. On top of all the chaos, the man still decided that he needed to get the last word.

“I’m not delusional, and you know it too!” He exclaimed in psychopathic glee as he swerved right sharply, “If we survive this, we will be talking about it.”

You could’ve just ignored him as usual, but why did you start shooting more precisely?

TAGLIST — @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss @taerae-verse @kyusqult

NETWORKS — @deoboyznet @k-labels

© astrae4 2023 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

a/n: finally the first chapter is here and the next one is almost ready for upload. I apologize in advantage, because I am still a bloody beginner in terms of writing. still, enjoy!

Chapter I

Conscription day will forever be one of the deadliest every year, right before Threshing. Ever since the first time I witnessed this from afar I hate it with all my heart. All year I have the same “privilege”, how my father would call it, to watch the candidates, that passed the entrance exam six month prior, fall to their death. And those who survive the Parapet either graduate or going to get killed – due to other cadets or dragons. One wrong move and all you will be is dead meat.

Today is possibly my last day on earth. I have to cross the Parapet myself to get into the Riders Quadrant but according to the General, I will just do fine – I am a Melgren and I have ten years of training in my bones after all. I am still not so sure about this, but I have no say in this. Not anymore.

Somewhere in between these masses of candidates must be a certain other general daughter and I really fucking hope she survives this. Even though she doesn't look like she could kill a fly, I believe wholeheartedly in her. She is strong and if someone can do this, it's her, even if she doesn't knows it yet. I tried to talk to her mother but she wouldn't budge, nothing would change her mind. Even Mira tried it more than once and if the General isn't listening to her, then she won't listen to anyone.

The orders from my father five days ago were clear – wait till the end, when everyone else is done, then I'll cross the Parapet alone. On the other side at the entrance to the quadrant will wait a third year that'll bring me to formation into the Dragon Rotunda. Commandant Panchek is informed that I'll join the Quadrant and which wing.

And with that I am waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

I have a good spot to observe these kids, trying to survive this death trail and see some of them already fall. I don't understand how some of them want to become a rider after all. So many of them volunteer to join the quadrant while others don't have a choice, like me. Malek lingers at every possible corner and no one is safe from him. Having a dragon might be “thrilling”, how many officers describe it, but till you possibly get to this point you could be dead, or worse.

These dragons are terrifying, like that beast of a dragon my father bonded all those years ago, long before I was born.

The weather isn't in anyone’s favor today – the storm took a turn at some point. Even though the sunrise was beautiful, it left a bitter aftertaste as the dark clouds covered the sky. For some of them it was their last sunrise ever.

It's been more than two hours since the first one entered the Parapet and there aren't many candidates left. I make out a figure striking over the stones like they own this place and – did they just threw another candidate down?!

My heart starts racing, my breathing becomes uneven, and I feel like I'm having a panic attack. Shit, now?!

`Take a deep breath, Arya. You`ll do this alone, no one can throw you down and no one will interrupt you.’

I just really hope I`ll never have to meet this asshole. I may look tough and have more fighting experience than others, but those people are unpredictable. And I certainly don`t have my father’s signet to see if I could win a fight against him, so I really want to avoid this guy.

A knock on the door interrupts my train of thoughts and when I turn, one of the officers from infantry stands at the door. “It's time” is the only thing he says. Shit.

Around fifteen minutes later I find myself lingering at the edge of the Parapet. No one else is around, the officer walked away the moment, I stepped foot into the tower.

Only a few centimeters separate me and the abyss. Just a few centimeters left and then I'll be out in the open while the rain thankfully eases into a slight drizzle.

`Okay Arya – you`ve got this. Take a deep breath – and step forward.’

Well … it takes me about three minutes, with stumbling and cursing the shit out of every person that crosses my mind, to reach the other side and I am nearing the entry to the famous Riders Quadrant. Just like father told me, a third year is already waiting for me, looking annoyed. But it's not like he can disobey a direct order from above. “Finally, they are about to start” he grumbles. Hello to you too, grumpy, but I know better than to aggravate him, since he has a dragon that could incinerate me before I even have the chance to hide.

We make our way through the empty corridors of the college while I try to sort my thoughts. I really survived the Parapet and now I am allowed to call myself a cadet. Still alive and can't fucking believe I am now part of this hellhole. I already imagine the way the General will stand in his office and rant about how it was predictable that I would succeed. “She is a Melgren after all and it would have been a waste of time if she didn't survived.”

Faint voices in the distance interrupt my thoughts, which get louder with every step we take but before we can even walk out into the biggest courtyard one has ever seen, the chattering grows quiet.

“Three hundred and one of you have survived the Parapet to become-“

The third year, I have yet to know his name, and I interrupt Commandant Panchek, who stands on the dais in front of the cadets.

“I apologize, Commandant, but it's three hundred and two.”

There is a heavy silence that spreads over the rotunda. I stand behind the tall rider, most of the curious glances immediately find him, only a few of them spot me behind. Great.

[pluviowriting]

Study Break

18+ || MDNI || Content Warnings: SMUT, characters aged up, established relationship, language, praise kink, thigh riding, lil bit of breeding kink, semi public sex I think that covers it all

Word Count: 1480 exactly

Repost from original blog @/pluvpluvpluv

Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

A/N: Happy Thirsty Thursday :) This was written in one sitting and not edited at all. I read through it once before going “yeah post it”

Part Two Here

MC was ready for summer. Summer meant NEWTs were done and she could take a month or so off to celebrate and relax before diving headfirst into her next adventure. She had spent the last two summers under an apprenticeship with Fatima Lawang, making the trip from Feldcroft to Keenbridge every day to study and learn business from someone she truly looked up to. She would be opening a small apothecary in the hamlet she now called home. It was a wonderful location, since she knew Bernard really stuck to selling beast byproducts and plants. She wouldn’t be encroaching on his market, and she could also source ingredients from him. It was going to be, thankfully, a mutually beneficial existence.

She had moved to Feldcroft at the end of their fifth year. Sebastian had nowhere else to live over the summer months, she really had nowhere to live over that time, and neither wanted to be alone. So, when that first year had come to an end, she just followed him home. He had started courting her about halfway through that summer. She had accepted and they had practically lived together like a married couple ever since.

Before she could get to the summer and enjoy her newfound freedom with the love of her life, she had to pass the NEWTs. In order to get her apothecary license, she needed to score high in Potions and Herbology at the very least, but that wasn’t going to be enough for her. The reputation of saving the wizarding world at fifteen years old meant she was expected to do exceedingly well on all of her NEWTs, and she was determined to do so.

She had taken up residence in one of the more secluded corners of the library. It always ensured that MC wouldn’t have to share the table and she could have all of her books open and spread out. Only a select few people knew of where she hid out to study, which limited the interruptions. Except in the case of her boyfriend.

She didn’t know how long she had really been studying when Sebastian finally sat beside her. She didn’t even look up from rereading a paragraph she had already read ten times before. She still retained nothing.

“MC. Love, you missed lunch. I brought you some food.”

“Thanks Bash. I’ll eat it in a minute. I just need to understand what this page is saying.”

He set the plate down and moved the book.

“Considering it’s well past lunch and I didn’t even see you at breakfast, I think you can’t understand the page because you’re hungry. Eat and take a break.”

MC glared at him, debating whether or not it would be worth the argument since they were both the most stubborn person the other had met. That train of thought was interrupted by a rather loud growl as she was betrayed by her own stomach. She ate the food that he brought her without further complaint.

While she ate, Sebastian sat beside her and scanned over the tomes she had laid out on the table. She was paying more attention to him instead. The way that his eyebrows furrowed when he was focused on a paragraph in one of the books and the way his lips moved silently with the words. She focused on his hands as he turned the page and the way that the muscles in his exposed forearms flexed even with that small movement. She could feel herself growing hotter by the second, and it led to the realization that she and Sebastian hadn’t been intimate in nearly three weeks. It could’ve been a record, honestly. Even before he was courting her, after they took each other’s virginities that first summer in Feldcroft, they hardly went more than a couple days without going after each other. The joys of two students living with no chaperone.

“I can feel you staring holes in the side of my head, MC. Have you finished eating? Do you want me to read to you to see if that helps you understand the material better?”

The way he cared for her had also always been one of her favorite things. She had never been good at keeping herself in check, but Sebastian always did his best to make sure she didn’t overextend herself.

“I—uh it’s mostly gone. But I was thinking about something else.”

“Were you? Care to share with the class, darling?”

“I could use your help. Just in a different way.”

He looked at her curiously for a moment before it seemed he registered the look on her face and his expression grew more heated.

“Have you been thinking too much? Do you want to turn that brilliant brain off for a minute?”

His tone was condescending, and while it would normally agitate her when he spoke to her that way, this time it felt different. She nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving his own while a smirk grew on his face.

“Do you remember over the winter holiday, you told me about how one of the girls had talked about grinding on a pillow when she didn’t want to do things herself and I made you do it for me? We don’t have a pillow here, but I bet I could have you grinding on something else and feeling as good as you did that night. Come sit on my thigh, darling. We’ll see if you can ride me like you rode that pillow. Maybe you’ll make just as big a mess on me.”

As she settled in on his lap, she was grateful she had opted for a skirt instead of one of the few outfits she had with pants. The back of the skirt that draped over her boyfriend’s knee would hopefully help hide what they were doing if anyone were to stumble back and find them.

She gave an experimental roll of her hips, and she felt Sebastian’s thigh flex beneath her. MC let out a shaky exhale as she did it again. The thin fabric of her knickers and the coarse fabric of Sebastian’s quidditch pants provided the most delicious friction to her clit. Sebastian’s large hands settled on her hips beneath her skirt, the feel of his fingertips on her bare skin lighting her nerves on fire.

“Make sure you stay quiet. Don’t need anyone hearing how I’m helping you study,” his voice purred, the effect going straight to her core.

As she grew more confident, her pace picked up. Sebastian helped, tensing his thigh and slightly pushing her hips down when she rolled them to make sure that the bundle of nerves she was focused on didn’t go a second without feeling something.

“That’s it, darling. Use me. Grind that needy little cunt on my thigh.”

MC gasped softly, biting her lip as the familiar tension in her lower stomach began to build. She was able to keep her volume down, but she couldn’t keep herself from whining and whimpering completely.

“Bash. Oh gods. I-I’m~”

“Keep going, darling. I can feel how bad you need it. That pretty pussy is drooling through my trousers. You’re making such a mess for me, my good girl. Go on. Cum on my thigh. You can do it, honey.”

With his encouragement and permission, she felt herself giving into the pleasure as her orgasm hit. Her hips stuttered, but Sebastian kept her in rhythm. She registered his low moan too, her chest heaving as she started to come down from her high.

MC’s hand moved to where she assumed she’d find Sebastian’s bulge, hard and aching for the attention she wanted to give it. Instead, her hand landed on a warm, wet patch on the front of his trousers.

“Sebastian Sallow,” she spoke his name low and soft, her frazzled brain slowly putting the pieces together as she looked up at him. “You came in your pants. Untouched. Because of me?”

The boy’s freckled cheeks flooded with color as he blushed. Her normally suave boyfriend seemed embarrassed by this turn of events.

“I may have. You didn’t see yourself. Or hear yourself for that matter. I didn’t realize it was going to happen until it just…happened.”

“That is one of the hottest things you’ve ever done. If we can sneak down to the library floo flame without getting caught, we can make it to the ROR. And I can give you something else to cum in.”

He let out a dark chuckle, looking at her with blown pupils.

“You think this is a game, MC? Hmm? Merlin, I’m gonna get you so fucking pregnant.”

Her eyes widened, and she couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from her lips. She was still giddy as she pulled him down the stairs and towards the floo flame on the back wall.

Thank Merlin for study breaks.

[sarcastic-nebula]

foxiyo day one: date night

Riyo finished touching up her make-up. She usually freshens it up throughout her workday, so she can best be the face of her people and maintain the Senate work culture. Today, however, was special, which was why she applied a little more contour and gold liner at ten minutes after 1700 hours in her office in the Senate building. Her date would be meeting her at the front of the building, after both of their workdays.

She packed away her make-up into its bag and replaced it in its proper drawer in her desk, before grabbing her tote bag and exiting her office. The door would automatically lock behind her.

Riyo paused, outside of her office, to double check she had everything. Datapad, communicator, wallet, apartment key-chip. Plus styluses, pens, various pieces of flimsi. She continued to her and her partner's meeting place. Hopefully he would be on time.

Fox finished his watered-down mug of caf from Maker-knew how many hours ago. He watered it down himself because Riyo was always telling him to drink "actual" water, and because he couldn't find a clean, separate vessel. The clock told him he had fifteen minutes left of his shift, and adding in commute time, twenty five minutes total (give or take) before his scheduled evening with Riyo.

Thankfully, citizens were usually too hungover or too motivated to get into too much trouble on Primedays. Usually.

Twenty four minutes.

Fox prayed to the Maker that it would reman a usual Primeday.

Riyo saw Fox walking in her direction. She met him halfway, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Hello, love. I see you had enough time to change into your civvies. Easy day?"

Fox huffed a laugh, and kissed her forehead.

"Compared to the Zillo Beast, every day is an easy day."

Riyo whacked him lightly with her tote. "You say that every time," she scolded, "Let's go, we have to get moving if we want to get to Fensan's on time." She put her hand into Fox's, and began to lead them to their restaurant. Fox easily fell into step with Riyo. As exhausted as he was, he wouldn't show it. He wanted to spend this evening sharing a meal with his partner, even if it ate up more of his limited energy and time.

Fensan's Kitchen was a modest Pantoran-Mandalorian food stall that shared its space with various other vendors at a minor shopping mall. It was somewhat hidden; the kind of place you only see if you really look. It also happened to be one of the few eating spots that could remind a homesick Senator of a cheap, home-cooked meal while also granting her privacy. Fox didn't mind it as he wasn't a picky eater, and had come to enjoy both types of flavors.

When the couple reached Fensan's, only a few levels down and a short walk, they both paused to look at the overhead menu. Riyo let Fox take his time, and rested her head on his shoulder. Fox liked to try new things sometimes, while Riyo had known what she had had a hankering for hours ago.

"Ready, sarad?" Riyo looked up at Fox and nodded. Like Fox, she too was tired, but wouldn't truly show it. They approached the register, ordered, split the bill with the credits from their respective pockets, and then sat down to wait for their food.

A few moments passed in silence, Fox rubbing Riyo's hand with his thumb. Both content in the brief peace, and tired from their respective days.

Riyo started, "After this, would you like to have a nightcap at my apartment?" Do you want to sip at an ounce of hard liquor from my homeworld and exchange horror stories from the day?

"I have an early morning tomorrow, but I wouldn't say no to extending the evening. Why, did you restock?" My day wasn't so bad to need alcohol to cope with it all this time, but I would like to go home with you. How bad was your day?

"I understand, but I wouldn't mind some company tonight. Long day at the office." I need to spend time with someone who won't politely call me a blue naiive bantha herder to my face like that bitch Senator from Kamino.

"That bill giving you trouble again?"

Riyo forced a chuckle, "You have no idea. Anyway, how was your day? Is Thorn back from that injury yet?"

Two trays of food were placed in front of Riyo and Fox, startling them.

"Keji, you should have called us! You didn't have to bring us our food-"

"Senator Chuchi, it's no problem. Enjoy your meal." Keji, one of the owners, left Riyo and Fox's table.

"I swear to the goddess, that is one of the kindest women in the galaxy," Riyo said before taking a bite of her meat and root vegetable stew. "You were saying?"

"Work was fine. Organizing patrols, yelling at the boys, paperwork. Thorn is back, yes, I'll tell him you asked." Fox replied with a smile. He chose to wait for his entree to cool off, so he picked at the slaw on the side.

"Does he still call me the pretty senator from Pantora?" She giggled.

Fox's grin grew. Yes. "Not really, not anymore."

Riyo took a few more bites. She was used to scalding hot food.

"Did you drink enough water today?"

"I tried, do I get points for that? I had at least two" three "mugs of caf and three" two "mugs of water. What about you?" Fox moved on to his entree.

"You absolutely get points for that. Especially since I know you prefer the bigger mugs. As for me, I--" Riyo's sentence ended abruptly.

"You alright?"

"I'm not sure if I had much water today. Tea at breakfast, and maybe a sip at lunch? I can't remember."

Fox shook his head and laughed. "Your head doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Not this time."

"I'll be right back," Fox left the table, and returned with a huge plastic cup of water with two straws. "That'll get us on track."

Riyo smiled softly.

"Thanks, love."

[fuctacles]

in love and war finale

Spicy Six Challenge by @thefreakandthehair, part 1 here, part 2 here, you know the drill

T | 2466 | pre-relationship | they are confused gay rookies in the 80s | sick-fic I guess?

“Why aren’t you in bed? Or the couch at least?!’

“He has a point.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“Well I’ll let you know I moved the phone and I’m sitting in an armchair wrapped in a blanket.”

“Who are you talking to?!”

Steve is glad for Dustin’s irrational fear of his viruses, because it’s the only thing stopping him from ripping the phone out of his hand, maybe pushing him back to bed too.

“Tell him I said hi.”

“Eddie says hi.”

Dustin starts hyperventilating.

Thankfully his mom came to the rescue with a steaming cup of tomato soup.

“It’s great you boys are keeping your spirits up but you shouldn’t be sitting on the floor, Steven. Maybe we could move an armchair for you?”

And thus with their leave, Steve had a cozy station next to the phone, piled with blankets and pillows. Not dissimilar to Eddie’s on the other end, whom he called as soon as the Henderson’s left.

“So, you were saying?”

“You know this stays between us? This is the most intimate Eddie Munson knowledge that you’re not to share with anyone else.”

Steve laughs. Just hearing him joke was helping his body recover and he feared he'll be ready to go back to work soon.

“Tell me your dirty secrets, Munson.”

“So, this dungeon I’m working on is a cursed tomb of an overthrown mayor…”

Steve likes a good story. Everyone does. He was never that much into fantasy, but the fact that one of his favorite people came up with it made it a thousand times more interesting.

“Ah, I guess it’s my turn for the kid’s visit.” Eddie interrupts himself about fifteen minutes in. “Do you also feel like you’re on a deathbed, visited by your grandchildren in hopes they'll be in the will? He’s getting the dice anyway...”

Steve snorts.

“Now that you mention it…”

“Are you guys still on the phone?!” Dustin’s voice is so loud Steve hears it clear as day on his end.

“Yeah, sorry babe, I’ll call you back.”

The line goes silent. 

And Steve knows he’s joking with the pet names, teasing in the silly way that he does but the more he hears him in his ear, the more he realizes he wants it, wants to try. He hopes Eddie wants it too.

His cold lets off faster than Eddie’s and he’s anxiety-cleaning as soon as he feels the strength to do so. He cleans the pj’s and sheets at boiling temperature so instead of sweat and sickness they smell like ‘provencal dreams’ which he thinks means lavender. The pills and syrups scattered on the coffee table get into the medicine basket. The armchair though, stays by the telephone. He’s waiting for Eddie to wake up and call him (so he can call back not to put the enormous phone bill on him) like he’s been doing for the past two days. Being sick together was almost as bonding as fighting evil. 

When the phone rings he runs to reach it and is almost embarrassed to do so, so he takes a second to breathe before picking up.

“Hello?”

“You don’t have to call me back.”

“Ah, sorry, the reception is shit, I can barely hear you. Let me call you back in a second.” He grins to himself when he hears Eddie’s resigned sigh. He dials the number from the emergency list above his phone immediately. 

“Hi,” he says, smiling like a fool.

“Well, someone sounds chipper today” 

“Yeah, I think I'm good to leave the house, finally. Also, this guy I like keeps me company in my misery.”

“Oh? He sounds like a nice dude.”

“He is,” Steve smiles, sitting down and pulling his legs up onto the seat. “He cares about his friends, saves the world sometimes, and hosts this dorky game for a bunch of nerds on the weekends. A true samaritan.”

“You think so?” Eddie sounds quiet on the other side. 

“Yeah. That's how I see it, at least.” He frowns, fingers twirling the cord anxiously, worried he stepped over a line. That’d suck because he had planned to step over some more today. 

“Thanks. I think you’re a nice guy too.”

It was the simplest compliment he’d ever gotten, but it made something in his chest tighten.

“Yeah?”

“Duh. You jump into demonic waters head first and ferry around a bunch of ungrateful kids.”

Steve snorts.

“That I do.” And then, before the conversation gets even further away from him, he adds, “Hey, listen. Since I’m feeling better, I’ll probably be back at work tomorrow.”

Eddie made a disappointed grunt on the other side.

“So I was wondering if I could visit you today? Maybe take over Dustin’s soup delivery?”

Eddie makes a sound that he’s unable to interpret.

“If you don’t feel up to it, it’s okay-”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.”

So Steve presses his lips together and waits.

Eddie sighs. 

“I’m feeling better, I guess you can visit if you don’t mind a sick person mess.”

“I just cleaned up mine today, no worries.”

“Yeah, okay. But about… the other thing…”

He trails off and Steve is one step away from biting his nails off. Or the phone cord in half. 

“You’re still sick and thinking about it, I-”

“Steve! Let. Me. Speak.”

He makes a noise of agreement into the receiver. 

“Like, I think I need to see you. Because I know you are hot, objectively. But do I think you are hot? Does my dick think you’re hot?”

“Eddie-”

“I’m speaking.”

Steve bites his lips with a smile. He can feel himself blush.

“So I have some things to verify. Come over, Wayne’s not home.”

Steve can’t help it, he bursts into hysteric giggles over Eddie’s attempt at a seductive voice with his clogged nose.

“Hey, now-”

“No, no, I’d love to. Should I bring protection? Like a face mask?” He manages between giggles. 

“Oh, you little-!”

He doesn’t remember the last time he had so much fun flirting. He curbs his amusement to manageable levels and looks at the clock. 

“I’ll call Ms Claudia if she has any special deliveries for us today. I could pick them up and be at yours in an hour, maybe two.”

“Sounds great.”

“Want me to pick up something?”

“I’d kill for a can of coke.”

“Got it. I’ll bring a movie we could watch too.”

Eddie hums his approval.

“Something light that my sick brain can process, please. I’ve had enough fever dreams about war and Russians. Never again letting Wayne pick the movie when I’m sick.”

Steve snorts.

“Okay, noted. See you soon?”

“See you soon, Steve-o.”

Claudia isn’t thrilled by his plan to visit Eddie, but a mother’s disapproval hasn’t stopped him before and certainly wasn’t going to now. He accepts the jars of soup, kisses her on both cheeks, and lets her tuck him up for the short walk from the door to his car. 

The drive is shorter than he expects, even with the partially shoveled roads. He feels completely unprepared for whatever might happen at his destination but he pushes on because the uncertainty might make him sick again. 

A tiny note on the inside of the window tells him the door is unlocked so with little hesitance, he pushes in. He knocks on the door, looking around.

“Eddie?”

“Over here!”

His voice sounds way better in real life than it did over the phone and Steve locks the door and unties his shoes to follow it. Eddie is sitting on his bed, wrapped in at least two blankets, and there are books and notebooks surrounding him. 

“Welcome, welcome!” he grins at him, which lights up his face prettily despite the unmistakable traces of battling the flu. His nose is red and dry from constantly wiping it, his face pale and his lips chapped. There are bags under his bloodshot eyes and the little hair peeking from under a blanket hood looks greasy.

Steve wants to give him a hot bath, wash and condition his hair, and moisturize his whole body, which is a weird thought to have about a romantic interest, even for him.

“Did you bring the goods?”

Steve holds up the plastic bag in his hand, making the jars inside clink. If only Ms. Henderson could see the sparkle in Eddie’s eyes at the sight of her soup, and how he brushes his hands together happily.

“Let’s go to the kitchen, then.”

Steve shakes his head.

“You can stay here, I can do it.”

But Eddie is already up, shaking his curls back at him. 

“And burn our new trailer to the ground? No thanks. The stove is a bitch and only the chosen ones can operate it without injuries. I’ll show you how to work it.”

Steve is listening to him, but he’s also very fixated on the bat pattern of his pajama bottoms and the fluffy green socks he’s wearing. One of the blankets he kept on flows behind like a cape.

“Okay, but I’m doing it,” he insists, following behind and just a tiny bit unmoored by the conversation. He was expecting something less… Normal. More awkwardness, confessions, and hurt feelings. That’s what he’s been preparing for.

“Of course, my shiny knight, of course,” Eddie assures him, reaching for a pot. “Will this be big enough?” he asks, eyeing the jars Steve’s putting on the counter.

“Think so.” He shrugs, eyeing the pot and opening the jars. 

“Okay, come here.” Eddie motions him closer and Steve obliges, standing right next to him and the heat he’s radiating. He smells a bit sweaty, which is understandable, but he can smell the minty toothpaste on his breath, meaning he brushed his teeth before Steve’s arrival. He tried not to think about the implications of it. 

“Okay, so never try to light the right top burner…”

He listens closely to all the instructions and shoos Eddie away as soon as possible to operate the stove under his watchful eye from one of the kitchen chairs. He goes through three matches to get the fire going under the pot but he gets the soup on the burner without much more damage.

“Do I get the Chosen One title yet?” he asks as he idly stirs the soup.

Eddie snorts.

“Don’t get cocky before finishing, dear Steven.”

“Fine,” he huffs. 

The silence settles between them and he doesn’t know where to go from there. But he told himself before coming that he’d wait patiently for Eddie’s answer and simply bask in his presence without pushing. Maybe turn up his charm if it feels right but that’s all. 

“What have you been doing stuck at home?” he asks, the need to break the silence overwhelming. 

Eddie hums, his eyes unfocused on the heating soup.

“Read Hobbit for the eleventy-first time, polished the postponed campaign, and planned for the next one already. Though, with these little bastards, it was probably a waste of my time. Rewatched a couple of movies?” he adds, voice tilting like it’s a question. When Steve hums in interest, he continues. “Paid extra attention to the actors. Turns out, Harrison Ford? Kinda hot.”

Steve snorts, taken aback, and when he turns, Eddie’s grinning at him sheepishly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I might be into dudes, after all.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” He smacks his lips obnoxiously and sucks in a breath. “You know, last time I tried to ask someone out, she said she was not interested at all, in anyone, and skipped town.”

Steve whines sympathetically. 

“Shit, man. I’ve never chased a girl out of town.”

“It did numbers on my self-esteem, I’ll tell you that.”

“I promise to stay in town if you ask me out.”

“Would that make me the guy?”

Steve cocked his head and studied Eddie for a while. He never thought about the dynamics of a same-sex relationship. Would he like to be ‘the girl’? Wooed and treated gently, gifted with flowers? Kissed on the neck, and spooned to sleep? He felt his cheeks grow hot at the imagery.

Unfortunately, Eddie noticed and his smile grew.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Steve shrugs, turning back to the soup.

“Aww, you’d like to be my princess, pampered with gifts and kisses?”

Steve made a point of focusing on his task and hiding his face. 

“So what?” He bristled. “What if I do? Would it be… Is that bad?”

“What? No! Why would it be bad?”

He shrugs. He doesn’t know why but something in his gut keeps telling him it is.

“Why would wanting to be cared for, be bad?”

“Uh, well…” Steve focuses his stinging eyes on the soup. He’ll have to turn it off soon and won’t have any excuses not to look at Eddie.

There’s a shuffle behind him and soon a warm body presses against his back, hugging him from behind. Eddie’s still wrapped in a blanket so they make a slightly awkward bundle against the stove.

“Besides, Princess Stevie sounds waaay better than King Steve,” Eddie presents his final argument and Steve lets out a surprised snort.

“You’re such a fucking weirdo, I swear.”

“Well, it worked on you, sooo…”

“And I still have no idea how,” he sighs dramatically. He squeezes the arms around him gently and turns off the stove before nudging Eddie away so he can pour the soup into bowls. They sit down to eat and when he hands Eddie a spoon he ignores it and slurps the soup straight from the bowl.

“Savage.” Steve rolls his eyes but can’t fight his amusement at his antics. Eddie smacks his lips loudly and grins.

“So, anyway…” He drums his fingers against the bowl. “Do you wanna go out, whenever Wayne gives me the all-clear to leave the house?”

Steve grins, watching the loud man be hesitant for once.

“Are you asking me on a date, Munson?”

His already red nose gets even redder.

“We don’t have to call it a date, we can just hang out, just the two of us.”

“Nah, I’d rather call it a date.”

Eddie inhales and a smile spreads on his face.

“Okay. Let’s do it then. Arcade? I feel like cinema dates are such a cliche.”

“Yeah, but there’s this new movie I’d like to argue with you about.”

“Is it The Fly? Or The Little Shop of Horrors?” Eddie prods with excitement. Because a heated debate on the first date sounds utmost alluring.

Steve extends his leg under the table, nudging softly at Eddie’s ankle. He nudges back with a grin and they rest their legs against each other. A simple touch they can settle on until Eddie gets better, until the date they plan in the cramped kitchen over bowls of soup until the sky turns dark.

[illarian-rambling]

can we get i an oc tour pretty please?

Sure!

Up first, we've got Izjik Meautammera, from Honor's Outcasts

(I'm so serious when I say these memes are the best refs I have)

She's 26 and a halawemavar selkie, which is just a selkie with catfish seasoning. Out of the four Outcasts, she's somehow both the most responsible and the most reckless. Her sense for emotion is keen, so she does her best to help everyone work through their pain, even when someone else might not notice they're upset. However, she's also the most likely to wrestle a greased elephant seal for a free beer. Let's call her the dad friend. She has a connection to a mysterious entity known as End as well, though she doesn't know much about it and would like to keep it that way. All she knows is that it gives her the ability to kill what shouldn't be able to die. Because of this ability, she was imprisoned in an undersea oubliette for eight years, alongside the man who would become her closest friend.

A man who's name is Sepo Kaiacynthus!

Sepo is a siren, though he can assume a human-like form as Izjik can. He was a priest to the god of song and drowned sailors until he burnt down the siren empress's palace and killed her daughter as revenge for the unfair execution of his brother. As punishment for this, his tongue was cut out (negating his vocal magic) and he was tossed into prison, where he met Izjik. Personality-wise, Sepo is prickly, easily aggravated, and generally grumpy. He loves to argue, even if he'd never admit it, and has a nobleman's sense of refinement tempered with a healthy dose of having lived in a pit for eight years. Together with Izjik, he took in a runaway sorcerer girl, by the name of...

Twenari Undetasib!

The daughter of the most successful smuggler on the Janazi sea, Twenari was raised as a tool more than a child due to her prodigious sorcery. When she finally broke under the strain, she ran away, pursued by her mother’s agents. She's a genius and not only a naturally talented sorcerer, but an ambitious one as well. She seeks to understand magic in all its facets, down to the most minute level. This can lead her down some dangerous paths, as she cares more about learning than her own wellbeing. Other than that though, she's a perfectly sensible and pragmatic girl (probably more so than the adult Outcasts). She can be rather awkward in social situations, as she's used to being a business asset, not a twelve-year-old. However, thankfully, she's not the face of the crew.

That distinction would go to one Djek Kagura

Djek is a 19 year old human who grew up on the streets of Fayuki after his parents abandoned him during a famine in an effort to save their six other children. This has left him with some pretty severe people pleasing problems, as he's terrified of being abandoned again. When he was fifteen, he fell in with the Tunnel Wasps (Twenari’s mother's smuggling operation), and was taken under the wing of a woman named Tyche, who forced him to commit many unsavory acts, including trying to recapture their boss's runaway daughter. Djek has a class clown sort of vibe. He's always trying to get a laugh, even if it's only as a distraction while he picks your pocket. Deep down though, he has a sensitive heart and longs for meaningful connections. He, like Twenari, is a sorcerer, though his magic is pretty measly compared to the average, and laughable compared to Twenari’s.

And that's the Outcasts quartet! They're a cute found family whose favorite hobbies include religious terrorism and uncovering maddening eldritch truths. The other group (just the MG crew, no catchy name) exists 20 years down the road from the adventures of the Outcasts, and though not directly connected, have a few similar encounters. Without further ado, here they are!

Up first is Astra DuClaire, the best witch of the borderlands

Or, at least, she says she's the best. Astra is a self-taught rune mage (hence the title witch, not mage, since she has no license) from humble beginnings. She seeks to pay off her mothers' debtor contracts, thereby releasing them from service in debtor's prison. Her personality might best be described as forceful. Astra is a loudmouthed braggart with an opinion on everything and a chip on her shoulder the size of a mountain. She believes deep down that she'll never be a truly good mage with her subpar education, so she covers this up with arrogance. Her story starts when she discovers a mysterious robot broken on the side of the road and decides to fix him up.

Said robot goes by the name of Mashal (surname Darezsho, but he doesn't know that at first)

Mashal doesn't remember anything before waking up in Astra's wagon. All he knows is his name, that he's lost, and that anything having to do with magic fills him with terrified paranoia and an urge towards violence. He seeks to discover what happened to him and who he is. Astra decides to aid him in this, and the two of them develop a friendship and later a romance on this quest. Mashal himself is rather soft-spoken, with a gentle heart that struggles to make sense of his violent instincts around magic. He has a talent for art and swordsmanship, and though his timidness can come across as weak, anyone who pushes him finds his morals are iron hard.

The third piece of this puzzle is Detevtive Ivander Montane

Born to a wealthy banking family, Ivander was always intended to follow along into the family business. When he was sixteen, he learned the truth of his family's dominance over the city of Unity's finances; the Montanes had made a deal with the god of greed. The contract Ivander signed with this god gave him the ability to call on miracles in exchange for his service. Only, when he couldn't bear hawking payday loans and convincing desperate fathers to sell their children as factory indentures any longer, he ran away. This default on his divine contract caused a curse to befall him. Slowly, Ivander's flesh is being eaten away and turned into smoke. This leaves him in terrible pain, though he covers his disfigurement with an illusion. Now 30 years old and disillusioned, Ivander works for the Unity Bureau of Arcane Investigation. His last hope to not die and be condemned to hell lays in mysterious killer known to strip the magic from their victims. Despite the horrors he's endured, there's still some good deep down in Ivander's heart. He's an incorrigible gossip, a selfish fop, and avoids emotional intimacy like the plague, however, he still loosely holds his childhood dream of helping people.

The next two characters are introduced in book 2. Sadly, I don't have funny little portraits for them yet.

First up is Elsind Cavernsight!

Elsind is a 20 year old changeling working for the Salis Legion of the People (a Skysheerian revolutionary group) as an infiltrator and spy. In Skysheer, changelings are frequently exploited, and like many of her kind, Elsind was kidnapped from a life with her loving elven mother at 13 to be used as a marquis's court freak. When they were 18, an SLP cell robbed the mansion they were kept in, and Elsind took a chance and escaped with them. Since then, he's been a loyal soldier fighting for his nation's freedom from tyranny. You might expect such a figure to be tough and jaded, but Elsind is nothing of the sort. They're a chatterbox, cry when nervous, and can't help but empathize with nearly everyone. They also have a deep appreciation for cheap romance novels.

On the other side of the coin, we have Duchon Avymere Kalaphon Spearsong III

Avymere is the Duchon of Salis (gender neutral form of Duke/Duchess), only child of the Archduke Eluan Spearsong. They are 153 years old and have been expertly manipulating the Salis gentry for nearly all of that time. To the court, they are a kindhearted, if ditzy, noble, who seems content to spend the rest of their days making social calls and practicing their odd martial arts hobby. In private, however, Avymere is a peerless spy who uses their unassuming persona to gather information for their father, to whom they are faultlessly loyal. They view themself as a servant of their people - more a tool than a person with wants and dreams. Despite their good intentions though, there is a disconnect between Avymere and the reality of Skysheer. They would consider easing tariffs to be a generous act, when in truth, most Skysheerians couldn't care less about foreign goods, and are more concerned with not starving or freezing to death.

And that's all the main characters! This turned out to be longer than I expected, but please let me know if you have any questions or comments. I also have their full bios (not Avymere or Elsind though, still gotta get on that) linked in my intro post, if you'd like a more in-depth look at anyone. Thanks for the ask, and you have yourself a bitchin day!

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part sixty] || th

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, angst

word count: 3.1k

“How much longer until we reach it?”

“You’ve asked that six times in the past ten minutes!”

“That’s because no one’s given me an answer!”

“Because no one knows, Harry! None of us have hiked this path before.”

Harry grumbled something behind his brother’s back but he must not have heard it because he didn't argue further. 

The majority of the hike thus far had been uphill, something that the park rangers had neglected to mention when they sent you off into the forest. Thankfully, the mountains and canopy of trees provided some kind of shade but it was still scorching hot. And humid. And you were sweating like crazy. 

Everyone was. Tom had already taken his shirt off and Harry had completely sweat through his. That was probably why he was complaining so much. He refused to take it off, though. Something about not wanting to get sunburned again. 

“You doing okay?” Sam asked, looking over at you. 

The two of you had found yourselves in the middle of the pack for once, walking behind his parents and in front of his brothers. 

“Yeah, fine,” you answered, trying not to sound as out of breath as you felt. 

“Did you bring your inhaler?”

“Um...”

“Why do I even ask?”

-

After fifteen more minutes of walking and a bathroom break, you finally reached the waterfall. 

Harry sighed. “That’s it? We walked all this way for this?” 

“Shut up, Harry,” Sam snapped. “It just looks small from the bridge, it’s not actually that small.”

“I’d say it’s a pretty average size,” you added, “maybe even kind of big.”

Tom laughed behind you. Thankfully, his parents didn’t seem to hear your comment. To be fair to Harry, it wasn’t a huge waterfall. It certainly wasn’t the biggest waterfall in Hawai’i, but it was one of the few that visitors could swim under. That’s what made it so popular. 

And the bridge had made it look smaller than it really was. 

There was an area to rinse off before and after getting in the water so you all took turns under the showerhead. 

Nikki was the only one who didn’t want to swim, which meant that she was stuck with all of the bags. You felt sort of bad when Sam handed over the backpack you were sharing but Nikki assured you that it was fine, that she would rather hold them for you than have you rent one of the rusty lockers to store it in. 

Waimea Falls required everyone to wear a life jacket, regardless of swimming ability. You knew it was a liability thing but you still couldn’t help but shiver when you slung on the cold, wet vest and buckled it around your chest. Who knows how many people had worn it before you today.

Shoes were optional so you left your sandals in the gravel by the bleachers and tiptoed your way back over to the edge of the water. The boys did the same. 

The five of you stood there, staring at the rocks leading down into the lagoon, trying to figure out how to proceed without falling. It was hard to determine the best way in as all of the rocks that were big enough to step on were also either jagged and/or slippery.

“Ladies first,�� Harry said unceremoniously.

You glared at him but decided to take a step down anyway. Someone had to go first and since everyone else was being a pussy it might as well be you. You moved at a snail’s pace, trying your best to move in a way that wouldn’t send you tumbling down the incline if you misstepped. 

The rocks seemed stable enough to hold your weight without sliding around in the mud but one of them wobbled under you upon stepping on it, making you nearly lose your balance. 

“Careful!” Sam and Tom shouted at the same time, causing you to turn around and make a face at them both. 

They traded weird looks with each other before turning their attention back to you, who had made significant progress toward the water. By the time you finally reached the edge, the boys had started trekking down behind you, much more haphazardly than you had. 

You extended your leg out in front of you to feel it out, trying not to scream when your toes grazed the water. It was freezing, way colder than you expected, but you knew it would feel incredible once you were fully submerged. It was one of if not the hottest days of the trip and you had sweat through everything. Even the life vest they’d saddled you with was beginning to feel sticky. 

“How is it?” Sam called from behind you. 

“Feels good!” you lied, not trusting yourself to turn around and show him your face. He’d know you were bluffing instantly. 

Since you didn’t want to hold up the line, you took a deep breath and pushed yourself off of the ledge, finding your footing with both feet in the water. The bed of the lagoon was also covered with rocks. They were more slippery than the ones on the path seeing as they were wet and covered with algae so you had to be extra careful. 

You moved away from the shore so that the boys could get in after you. 

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!” was Sam’s shout from behind you.

You turned back to see him submerged up to his waist. He apologized to the people around him for cursing before glaring at you. 

“You little brat!” he muttered, lunging at you.

You let out a yelp as the weight of your best friend dragged you under. You both emerged with dripping hair, laughing and sputtering. 

“You said it felt good!”

“It does! It’s refreshing!”

“It’s cold as fuck,” he muttered, “and you knew that.”

“What, can’t take a little chill?” you taunted.

He splashed you. 

“Are we going to swim over to the waterfall or what?” Tom’s voice echoed from behind you both, sounding annoyed. 

Sam smirked before turning around to face his older brother. 

“We don’t all have to go together. You could have gone on without us.”

Harry was the last to get in, gingerly stepping on the algae-covered rocks to make his way over to the three of you. Dom stayed by the edge, content to keep Nikki company from the water. He claimed to be too old to swim against the current just to get thousands of gallons of water dunked on him. 

“Let’s go, babe,” Sam said, jerking his head over his shoulder in the direction of the waterfall.

Swimming to the base of the waterfall proved to be a lot more difficult than it looked. The current was strong and moving against it required a lot of effort. People who weren’t strong swimmers had no chance of making it all the way under. 

It was doable for you, but not without struggle. The boys seemed to be in the same boat, save for Tom, who was the fittest out of all of you. He was already several strokes ahead of the rest of you when Sam called out for him to wait up. He paused and tread water while he waited for you and the twins to catch up. 

“I thought we were going together,” Harry panted bitterly. 

“Not my fault you guys are slow,” he rebutted. 

“Maybe we should hold hands,” Sam suggested and pointed to another family who was making significantly more progress. “They’re doing it.”

“You think that’s going to work?” you asked. 

“Yeah, how do we know you guys aren’t just going to hold me back?”

Harry clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Tom-”

“You could stand to pull some more way, Spider-man,” Sam pointed out.

“Tsk, fine. How should we do this?”

Tom obviously helmed the line. You were stuck between him and Sam, with Harry bringing up the rear. You didn’t argue about your place in the order but it did feel strange to be holding both Tom and Sam’s hands at the same time. You couldn’t tell whether they felt similarly but you had to assume they did. 

Tom tugged you along and you pulled Sam in turn. They held on to you tightly so as not to lose you in the tide. You tried to focus on keeping your head above the surface instead of the feeling of both of their hands in yours. 

Sam’s hand-holding strategy actually worked and you made it to the waterfall twice as fast as you would have on your own. 

Trying to get under the waterfall was another ordeal. The water pressure was so aggressive that you had to fight against the water in order to get up on the rocks right beneath the stream. 

“This kind of hurts!” Sam shouted over the roaring of the water. 

“Yeah, I think I’m getting bruises!” Tom agreed. 

“You guys are pussies!” you yelled, even though it did hurt and you wouldn’t be surprised if was bruising you. 

“I think Mum is trying to take a picture!” Harry screamed.

Automatically, all four of you posed even though you couldn’t see where Nikki was and you could barely open your eyes under the stream. You grabbed for Sam but got Tom instead, accidentally squeezing his ass in an effort to hold his hand. How you mixed up the person standing beside you and mis-approximated where their wrist was, you didn’t know, but you immediately let go once you realized your mistake and fumbled for the right person’s hand instead. 

If Sam noticed what happened, he didn’t say anything about it. Tom definitely did notice and you could see him trying not to laugh out of the corner of your eye. 

“Should we swim back now?” one of the boys, you weren’t sure which, asked after you had stood there for what felt long enough for their mother to have snapped a couple of photos. 

“You guys can, I think y/n and I are going to swim around by ourselves for a bit longer.”

That was news to you but you weren’t necessarily upset about it. You hadn’t been in the water for long anyway and you wanted to make the most of it. And if Sam wanted to be alone with you, you weren’t going to say no. 

Your number one priority was winning him back, making it up to him, as much as you could. 

You followed Sam to a secluded part of the pool, letting him tug you along as you floated on your back. Tom and Harry either got out or fucked off to another part of the lagoon. You weren’t paying attention when you split up and you weren’t about to look for them. 

“Did you want to talk about something?” you asked your best friend. 

“No, just wanted some space from my brothers.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Did you want to talk about something?” he parroted. 

You made a face. “No, unless you’ve changed your mind.”

You could tell he knew what you referring to immediately from the way his expression shifted. 

“Not here, yeah?”

You nodded in agreement. He was right, you should have that conversation somewhere private. Still, you took his answer as a good sign. ‘Not here’ implied that there was somewhere that you would have that conversation, which meant that he was willing to have it. You counted that as a win. A very small win, but a win nonetheless. 

“What?” Sam asked, squinting at you through the sunlight. 

“Huh?”

“What’s got you smiling like that? What’s on your mind?”

You hadn’t realized you were smiling until he pointed it out. 

“Just happy to be here with you.”

-

You had dinner at some famous burger place that night. You were too tired to pay much attention to what you were eating or what everyone was talking about but you’re pretty sure the food tasted good. 

The restaurant was in the middle of their dinner rush when your party arrived so you had to wait for a table. There was a small surf shop attached to the same building so you went with the boys to check it out while Nikki and Dom scoped out somewhere to sit. Everything was expensive so no one bought anything but window shopping kept you occupied for the time being. 

After dinner, you rode with Sam’s parents back to the resort. He seemed indifferent to your presence this time, which you took as another win. He held your hand in the back seat and you rested your head on his shoulder. Neither of you fell asleep but you kept your eyes closed, enjoying the silence.

“We’re here, kids,” Nikki said softly once Dom had parked in the lot.

Sam stretched, forcing you to sit up too. You thanked them for the ride, and for dinner since they paid, before Sam asked if you wanted to take a walk on the beach. 

“Sure, let’s go.”

He led you by the hand through the maze of buildings to the hotel’s beach entrance. You passed other couples as you strolled past the pool and the firepits and it made your heart sink a little. You were jealous of them. Jealous that they could enjoy each other’s company out in the open like that. Jealous that they looked so happy. Jealous that they weren’t sacrificing one relationship for another. 

You were definitely projecting, they absolutely could have been in the same situation as you and you would never know but you refused to acknowledge that possibility because you were resolute on feeling bitter. 

The sun hadn’t fully set yet despite the late hour. Being that it was still the middle of summer, it wouldn’t get dark until much later than usual. You were also convinced that daylight lingered longer in Hawai’i than it did in other places but you had no evidence to back that up. 

“Here, I’ll carry your shoes for you,” Sam offered, holding out his free hand for them. 

You paused. “Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I know you don’t like the feeling of sand in your shoes.”

“Thank you.”

You bent down to undo your sandals and handed them to Sam. He looped the straps around two of his fingers and resumed holding your hand. 

The sand was still warm, holding on to the heat of the day. 

“Are we going all the way down to the water?” you asked. 

“If you want to,” Sam answered. 

“I don’t really feel like getting wet again.”

“That’s fine with me.”

You settled for walking along the outline of the tide where the sand was still dry. You followed the curves of the waves from hours past, tracing the remnants of high tide with your arms out like you were walking on a tightrope. Sam trailed behind you for a few moments before catching up with you again. 

You had pulled your hand out of his grasp moments earlier to run ahead, distracted by the seafoam in the distance. You waited for him and put your arms back by your sides. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ditch you,” you sighed when he reappeared at your side. 

“I know,” he replied. 

Instead of offering you his hand this time, he gave you his elbow. You took it gently, resting your hand on his bicep. 

He was uncharacteristically quiet. You wondered what was on his mind. When he invited you down here, you thought it would be to talk, to finally have that conversation. Maybe it had been and he changed his mind. Or maybe it had never been his intention in the first place. 

You were starting to think you’d never get an answer when he finally spoke. 

“I’m sorry for what I said.”

You tensed but kept walking, not wanting to confront whatever expression might be on Sam’s face. If you stopped, you would have to look at him or stare at the ground. If you continued walking, you could just look straight. 

“I... didn’t mean that shit... about wishing I never met you. Or any of it really. I wanted to mean it. But I couldn’t, because none of it’s true. I was just really hurt. I still am, to be honest.”

“I understand,” you responded. 

“I want us to move past this,” he continued, “but it still feels really fresh. I mean, I only found out about you and Tom a few days ago.”

You nodded as you listened. He was right. It had only been a handful of days even though it felt like an eternity. Being at odds with Sam was hell. He was your best friend, after all. You had lived life with him by your side for the past four years. You didn’t want to imagine what that would look like without him. 

“Right.”

He cocked his head to the side, lost in thought. 

“I’m sorry too,” you added, wanting to reiterate just how shitty you felt about the whole thing. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I know you are. I knew you were then too. I’m sorry for invalidating your apology-”

“Don’t be!” you interrupted. “My actions and my words... they don’t add up. I would’ve thought I was bullshitting too.”  

Sam forced a laugh. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy to wrap my head around. But I get it, I think. There’s just something about Tom, isn’t there?” 

You snuck a glance at him but didn’t say anything. You had a feeling it was a rhetorical question. 

“You must have been miserable this whole time. Trying to push down your feelings for him and then finally acting on them but being consumed by guilt when you finally do.”

“It hasn’t been the best,” you admitted, “but it’s my own fault.”

“Not entirely,” Sam reasoned. 

You were surprised he was coming to your defense but you figured he’d go up to bat for anyone if it was against Tom. 

“Enough of it is.”

Your best friend shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like you’re known for your decision-making skills.”

You scoffed and nudged him with your shoulder. He laughed a real laugh for the first time in days. You had missed hearing it. It made you smile too. You rested your head on his shoulder and for once it felt natural. 

“I really am sorry, Sammy,” you sighed, your voice wavering. 

“I know. I can’t pretend that I’m over it... but I will be. I also know that I can’t ask you to end things with him...”

“You can-”

“No,” he murmured. “I can’t. You would resent me for it.” You opened your mouth to protest but Sam shook his head and you closed it again. “You would. Maybe unconsciously, but you would. Things wouldn’t be the same.”

“Things won’t be the same if I don’t end things with him,” you pointed out.

“I know,” he agreed solemnly. Then he sighed as if it was something he had already come to terms with. “But you’ll still love me the same. And that’s enough.”

this one made me emo to write but I hope you enjoyed it lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

[ningningsdream]

the villain in your story | part forty five

word count: 1.2k

SUHTURDAY

you arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes after it opening, thankfully there was not a lot of people yet. clients start coming in around 9-10AM before going to work and since you were in a business district, a lot of people came around that time. you could see renjun's panicked face turn into relief as he saw you walk into the coffee shop, "oh thank god you're here!", renjun whispered-shouted at you.

"why are we whispering?", you whispered back at him.

"i don't want them to hear us.", he replied, pointing discreetly towards the office.

you nodded with an okay sign then making your way behind the counter and into the employee only area. you put your apron on and clip your hair back before coming out again. you greeted the customers at the counter and started making the orders renjun took in. the two of you worked hard for an hour and a half before the coffee shop got quiet again.

"oh gosh, really, thank you for coming.", renjun said, full of gratefulness, "i don't think taeyong planned on firing her today but i guess when he saw her almost drop the custom pre ordered cakes for this afternoon, he snapped and called her into the office."

you nodded, understanding the situation, "i can't even imagine his stress level if she dropped them. it's like our first big custom order and i know they both hesitated on accepting it because we're a coffee shop, not a bakery but taeyong's been obsessed with baking lately."

"oh my god, you noticed too? i thought i was becoming crazy. i can't even count the amount of times he asked me to try some cakes he just made. they were all so good though, i think i gained 10kg.", renjun exaggerated his words for comedic purposes, which worked as you laughed.

"i helped him with some of those.", you said proudly, "it's great having someone as interested as me in baking."

"well, if you need anyone to try out your recipes...i volunteer as tribute."

"noted.", you smiled at him before the door of the coffee shop opened, the sound of the bell above it making the two of you turn your attention to the door, ready to greet the customer. instead of a stranger or a regular of the coffee shop, you were faced with the smiley face of one of your friends, "jimin? what are you doing here?", you asked, excited to see her.

"i can ask you the same question.", jimin replied, going around the counter to greet you with a hug.

"renjun called me to help him this morning.", you replied, wrapping your arms around her like a child who finally found her mom after she got out of their sight.

"this morning? was there more people than usual?"

"not really but...", renjun started lowering his voice, "jiwoo is getting fired."

"oooh, i see.", jimin nodded, "i came by because i forgot something in the changing room. i'll just go get it and be on my way."

jimin walked towards the staff only door, leaving the two of you alone again, "why is it taking so long?", renjun said, nodding towards the office.

"she must be crying while taeyong is trying to comfort her.", you said, gazing at the door.

you were right. it took taeyong an hour to nicely wrap the firing into something that wouldn't make jiwoo feel so bad but it failed completely as she started crying. taeyong didn't know how to deal with it so he just let her be until she calmed down, whispering comforting words from time to time.

"it's gonna be alright. there's plenty of other jobs out there.", taeyong said.

jiwoo nodded with a snif. she got up from her chair and gave a little bow to taeyong, "thank you for giving me a chance."

"it's all good, hope to see you again.", taeyong smiled, opening the door for her.

the sound of a door opening made renjun and you stopped in your conversation. jiwoo glanced at you two behind the counter, in your suhturday uniform, probably having a great conversation before being interrupted. she should've been the one standing in your place, catching jaemin's attention, getting along with his friends, or at least, she thought it should've been her, but you were there. you've been getting in her way lately and she didn't like that new behavior of yours at all. sure, you were always impatient and hated when she repeated the same mistakes over and over again, but never had you gotten so worked up about her crush over jaemin. she didn't like that you've become so close with him, like you've been stealing him away from her. seeing you standing there all happy, living the life she should've lived was just so infuriating. she still had the last conversation the two of you had through text and all the tweets of your trip in mind, which made her even angrier, combined to the fact that taeyong told her that they had been many complaints about her work, jiwoo was convinced that they were from you. maybe in an attempt to chase her away from the coffee shop and from jaemin.

whatever the reason, she saw red.

"you! i can't believe you're doing this to me. and you call yourself my friend?", jiwoo almost screamed, walking towards you, "i was fired. are you happy now? because it was your goal all along, right? making all those fake complaints about me? you're pathetic." she continued to spat at you from the other side of the counter.

you were taken aback by the aggression. your first thought was to the customers. you looked around the coffee shop and a few clients were present, some had their headphones on, thankfully, but others were fully aware of what was going on and acted as if they didn't, still listening in by curiosity.

by the time you had processed everything that needed to be processed by your brain, from the customers to taeyong's shocked face to renjun's clenched fist, a voice echoed from behind you, "they were from everyone else but y/n, actually.", jimin said, standing in front of the 'staff only' door. she probably got out when she heard jiwoo screaming, "me, renjun, jeno, some customers, even jaemin.", she emphasized on the last name, knowing damn well he would affect jiwoo the most.

"why don't you stop embarrassing yourself and get out of there before i get really mad.", you said in a calm toned whatsoever, sending chills down the spine of the people listening. it wasn't that you didn't have the balls to scream back at her. you were just aware of the fact that you were currently representing suhturday in your uniform and you didn't want your actions to impact johnny and taeyong's business in any bad way, so you just took a deep breath and kept everything inside.

jiwoo stomped out the place like a child and left all of you standing there, astonish. you turned to taeyong, bowing 90 degrees, "i'm sorry for that.", you straightened up and turned towards the clients present, looking at you. you bowed again at them, apologizing for the disturbance.

main masterlist | tviys masterlist

pairing: fem!oc x barista!jaemin, fembarista!reader x barista!jaemin

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive, barista!au, sns au

summary: girls' code prevents you from liking the guy your friend likes right?

a/n: jiwoo finally fired but still getting on everyone's nerve until the end

taglist: [@glamourizz @rinrinslovebot @beomibeom @moonjobf @hiqhkey @calssunflower @donghyuckster @vianna99 @kookiedesi @baehaechannie @nshimura @thiccfullsun @dear-dreamie @neobowlingshoez @jjaehmins @liliansun @bythe8 @hyuckrec @dearlyminhyung @ohmygs-blog @hoeshi17 @wonupuppy @shan-oldham @jeongintwt @renjunoya @najm00 @sukistrawberry @goldryush @000rpheus @sfthyuka ]

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[salllzy]

Sal's snippets #5 part 1

Sooo, I have messing around with something and came up with this. I had a lot of fun with this.

-------- Lucifer knew that one day his indiscretions would come to light, he knew that Charlie wouldn't be happy with him when she found out. But he had underestimated just how much she would be hurt. "How could you? You cheated on mum!" The tears in his eyes hurt far more than her rage and as much as he wanted to try and explain the situation, he could get his mouth to form the words that he wanted to say. "Oh, please. It is an open secret that Lilith was cheating on the King for the last eight centuries of their marriage more often than not taking five or six demons into her bed at one go and you are having a go at him for finding comfort?" Gold eyes moved to the demoness that was sitting on the settee drinking a cup of tea, her red eyes so similar to Alastor's had thrown him for a loop when he had first seen them. It was hard knowing that he had a second daughter and one that he had never known about until fifteen minutes ago. "This is a family matter!" Charlie whirled around and snarled at other demoness, but despite Charlie being older than her, she merely raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You are meant to rule Hell if anything happens to him? Truly, you are an unruly child that seems to think that Liliths shits rainbows and can do no wrong. But let me tell you something, the demons of Hell would rather stand behind Lucifer than Lilith. Why? He doesn't pretend to be something that he isn't, you may think that your mother is a kind and gracious woman who has hoards of loyal followers who worship the ground that she walks on. Newsflash, no one does. The only reason that anyone wants to get close to her is because she will open her legs for anyone." With grace and elegance, she stood up from the settee and looked Charlie in the eyes, Charlie had a good few inches on her and yet it looked as if Charlie was on the losing side. Charlie clenched her hands into fists and for a moment Lucifer feared that Charlie would attack the other demoness, Alastor appeared and stepped in between the pair and despite having his back facing towards the other demoness, there was no doubt in anyon's mind just who he was protecting. "Perhaps we should all take a few minutes to cool off hmm? Wouldn't want to rebuild the wall after all." Despite the words, it was clear that it wasn't a suggestion, with a look of hurt and betrayal Charlie fled from the lobby. Lucifer wanted to go after her, to try and explain himself but he knew that she wouldn't listen to anything that he would say, Charlie had made up her mind. She was much like Lilith in that regard. But no matter how much she hurt him, he would still love her. She was his daughter. He would always love her. But she had hurt him, badly. He didn't know why everyone always assumed the worst of him and never gave him a chance to explain himself. This was Eden all over again. "Sarah." Alastor's voice was soft in a way that Lucifer had never heard before, he hadn't even known that Alastor could use such a tone. "Dad, I know that you don't want me to be here but we have a problem." Lucifer wondered what sort of problem it could be before the TV blared to life and was now broadcasting the fact that he had an affair with the radio demon. A murderous look appeared on Alastor's face, his eyes turned into dials and his body began to creak and groan as he fought the urge to shift. "Vox." The vicious snarl that Alastor let loose had the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge, Lucifer had never heard Alastor sound like that before. Oh, sure he had heard him annoyed and irritated but never like this. "That was what I came to warn you about, thankfully they don't know about me and I have my people running interference as much as possible. But it is going to take some time." Despite how young she was, Lucifer couldn't help but admire her, she had seen a problem and tried to fix it before it became an even bigger problem and when that didn't work she began working on damage control.

[woneuntonzz]

hypothesis || smau — c.s, j.wy

➤ chapter 4-A (back to chapters)

highschool senior!san x highschool senior!reader x highschool senior!wooyoung

contains: unhinged humor, kys joke ahead, highschool au, reader is named & afab

» So which team are you on? Team San or— don't treat this like a sports game!

more under the cut .ᐟ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

(ignore post and message time stamps!!)

A few days later…

You’re sitting at the school’s computer lab, waiting for your thesis groupmates to show up for a meeting. The library would always be more packed for some reason, and they’re very restrictive there —no food, voice must be below sixty decibels, and you have to make sure to never misplace anything —not even the little decor on the coffee tables. The same rules apply for the computer lab —except for the last one— but no one really cares, not even the facilitator of said lab.

...

\\

The two would arrive after another fifteen minutes. Wooyoung was the first to walk through the doorway, then San, who you gave your best smile to. 

“Sorry we’re late.” San says, still standing besides the seat next to you. 

Wooyoung moves San to the side, taking the seat. He was facing you as he sat down and the proximity made you cringe internally.

“So what are we doing bff?” Wooyoung smiled right as he spoke, and it was a smile that made you question if this was really the guy that introduced himself with the lyrics to Super Bass. His voice too, it was calmer than what you expected, but maybe that was because he was being quiet for the sake of the few other people in the computer lab. 

“We’ll brainstorm for now, since the outline draft is due before the end of this month.” you answer whilst scrolling through the article you’ve been reading since you got bored waiting.

“Philosophy of the mind.” you hear San’s utterance as he settles to the seat at your other side.

You were in between them, the both of them leaning in with you, trying to make up something from the long paragraphs in the article. 

“That’s gonna be our topic?” Wooyoung asks, and from the volume alone you could tell he’s moved a lot closer to you.

A hum of affirmation sounded from your pursed lips and you could see him from the corner of your eye nodding. 

There was a lot of talking, given that you must have at least a finalized topic before the end of the week so you could start your research. They were a lot more professional than what you had initially expected. If you were being honest, your main concern was Wooyoung. But all he did was spew his own suggestions, ideas that made you see him in a different light. Maybe he isn’t too bad after all.

“Sab.” you looked over at Wooyoung, and it took you a little more than a few seconds to spot his phone high up to take a selfie. And he snaps it just as you realized. “Bff souvenir.”

“Souvenir?” you utter with a slight laugh. 

“Souvenir, s-o-u, v-e-n-i—are you happy that you were so close to San?” 

Okay, maybe not. Thankfully, Wooyoung spoke in a whisper, and San was a little further behind you, cleaning up the area a bit. 

“Bitch.” you swore you only said it in your mind.

“Hmm?” Wooyoung’s amused face was fully on display, like a nice, sturdy punching bag.

“I said please, let’s get done with the clean up.” you say with sweet sarcasm, faking a smile —like the one you always pulled when talking to a teacher you didn’t quite like.

“Okay, bff.” he imitates your intonation, walking past you and towards San. 

...

Later that day...

\\

Well, in fact, you haven’t held a real conversation with Wooyoung —excluding discussions about your project.

...

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[somedaylazysomeday]

Bitten - Part Four

You finally give into your desires and contact Commander Wolffe.

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader

Rating: Mature. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 5,200

Warnings: Discussions of BDSM contracts, including rules, punishments, safewords, hard and soft limits, etc. Mentions of sex toys and masturbation.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

Weeks. 

It had been weeks since you had slept with Wolffe a second time and you hadn’t stopped thinking about the time you had spent together. 

You were intrigued by his proposal, of course. You couldn’t say that a relationship like that had ever been something you had pictured yourself having… but you also couldn’t deny that you found the power exchange intoxicating. 

In fact, the only reason you had allowed weeks to pass since the last time you had seen Wolffe was because the Wolfpack had been off-planet for most of that time. Ieri kept you up-to-date on their movements. 

At first, you had been concerned about the pretty Zeltron’s relationship with Wolffe, but you had learned that Ieri and Wolffe were friends. It was rather like seeing a nexu befriending a puffer pig, but it was adorable. It was also a relief to find out that there was no attraction between them. Ieri did not care for BDSM relationships and preferred females besides. In particular, she cared for your friend Gemma, which you also found adorable. 

When Ieri told you that the Wolfpack was back on Coruscant, you took a moment to check in with yourself. This was a big decision. Wolffe had told you clearly that, if you contacted him again after the last time you had slept together, you would meet up with the intention of setting up something more permanent. 

You decided to take a few days to consider it. Then, when you got antsy, you decided that two days would be long enough. And when your most reliable vibrator proved unequal to the task of keeping you sated, you admitted the truth to yourself: you wanted this. You wanted Wolffe.

When you commed the number Ieri had given you after your first meeting with Wolffe, your heart was pounding, but your hands were steady. You had opted for a written comm message to cut down on the risk of sounding scared or overeager: Hey. Want to meet up?

It was short, simple, and thirsty as hell. You had remembered to sign it, thankfully, since you had never commed him before. You had thought about explaining where you had met him to further jog his memory, but you ultimately decided against it. If he had forgotten about you or had that many people in rotation, you probably didn’t want to be with him anyway. 

Probably.

Despite your carefully crafted message, Wolffe didn’t reply immediately. You assured yourself that he was probably busy, but when he hadn’t answered fifteen minutes later, you sent a quick comm message to Ieri: Did Wolffe change his frequency?

Not that I know of. He can take a while to write back, though. Be patient!

You took a deep breath, trying your best to follow that impossible advice when another message came through: Does this mean you two will be hooking up again? ;) 

Despite the speed with which you closed out that message chain, you laughed at Ieri’s unsubtle urging for you to date the handsome commander. She had been the one to introduce the two of you - though it was from a distance - and had never been shy about the fact that she thought you should be together on a regular basis. She said you were good for each other. 

The comlink buzzed again and you smiled wryly as you lifted it once more. Instead of another teasing prod from Ieri, this one was a brief message from Wolffe. It listed a time, date, and address. 

It was difficult to think past the roaring in your ears, but you managed to calculate that you were apparently meeting with Wolffe the following afternoon. 

Another buzz. 

If you haven’t done your research, here is a place to start. 

You reread the message twice before a collection of Holonet links started to ping through. The first one was an overview of BDSM and power-exchange relationships. Then an explanation of BDSM contracts. Then a ranking of power-exchange relationship levels, from bedroom-only to around-the-chrono.  

More links and more articles and more ideas you had never considered. Information poured in until you started to feel overwhelmed. You had conducted research of your own, and had considered it fairly intense, but you were starting to suspect that you had barely scratched the surface.

By the time you finally let your datapad rest on your beside table, it was the early hours of the morning. You didn’t feel guilty about taking the day off, even when you told your concerned supervisor that you were sick. It wouldn’t have been appropriate to tell them that you were sick with anticipation and nerves, positively trembling at the idea of taking on a new challenge. It also wouldn’t have been a good idea to work on only a few hours of sleep. 

You slept far longer than you would have otherwise, but it was fitful, interrupted by dreams and stray thoughts. More than once, you woke up to dampness between your thighs as your body pulsed with desperation. 

Just before it was time to leave to meet Wolffe, you showered. Your vibrator seemed far more effective now that you had a new universe of ideas to fuel your fantasies, but you hoped most of your orgasms in the near future would be more involved than pumping a slick piece of silicon between your legs. 

When you were freshly clean and fully wrung out, you hailed a transport to ferry you to the address Wolffe had commed you. It wasn’t a club, as you had expected. Instead, it seemed to be an upscale bar with such a subtle logo that you struggled to make it out against the neon glare of the surrounding businesses: The Edge. Appropriate, you mused as you ventured toward the door. It did have an excellent view of the industrial sector’s canyon-like construction.

“You’re on time,” a rough voice told you. Every nerve you had thrilled at the familiar sound, and you eagerly turned to meet Wolffe’s brown and silver gaze. “Good girl.” 

Oooh. That, you had to fight not to react to. You managed, but had a feeling it was less effective than you wanted with the way Wolffe’s lips tipped into a smile. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” you said instead. “I’ve never been here.”

Wolffe’s smile grew slightly. “I know you haven’t. Follow me.” 

Your brow was still crinkled in confusion as you trailed behind Wolffe. He held the door for you, letting you lead the way into The Edge’s atrium. It was elegant, all dark leather and subtle stone, but nothing that explained the secret sort of smirk on the receptionist’s face. 

“We’ll be dining here,” Wolffe announced. 

The receptionist tipped their head. “Fourth floor, as you know.” 

That seemed like an odd thing to say, but Wolffe immediately proved them right by going directly to an elevator that was half-hidden by a stunning Nabooian painted screen.

“So…” you started, when you were shut in the hushed closeness of the elevator. “I guess you come here a lot.” 

“I do,” Wolffe agreed, pressing the button for the fourth floor. He gave you a curious look. “Does that bother you?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” 

If Wolffe had intended to answer that, he didn’t manage to do so before you arrived at the restaurant. It was probably lucky that he had you step out of the elevator first, because you weren’t sure you could be trusted to keep up, otherwise. The restaurant was just as subtly classy as the atrium had been, but that elegance was enhanced by an assortment of enticing smells. 

The host greeted Wolffe by full name and title. “Commander Wolffe, wonderful to see you. Your usual table has been prepared.” 

When Wolffe nodded, the host gathered two menus and wove a complicated path into the depths of the restaurant. He set the menus down on a secluded table in a back corner of the space. It was a booth… or half of one, anyway. The single bench seat faced a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the bustle of Coruscant. It was shaded and tinted enough that the brightness wasn’t overwhelming, but offered a fantastic view for anyone who cared to look. 

“Your server will be with you shortly,” the host told you both with a smile. “Enjoy.” 

Had he waggled his eyebrows at you? That seemed daring, but maybe he could sense the dirty thoughts tumbling through your mind. You couldn’t help it, being so close to Wolffe. 

You only got closer as you sat down together. The booth was fairly spacious, but it was only one cushion and Wolffe had some of the broadest shoulders you had ever seen. It didn’t help that being so close to him at a table forcibly reminded you of your first meeting, when he had brought you to a knee-trembling orgasm simply by having you grind against his thigh armor. 

“Pick something to eat,” Wolffe told you, pushing a menu in your direction. “We’ll start our conversation after we order.”

You stared at the options. They all sounded delicious, but your stomach was tight with nerves. You had decided on a salad to keep your body from rebelling entirely. When your server appeared, you placed your order first, then watched in amazement as Wolffe ordered two dishes and an extra cut of meat. You had heard the clone troopers talking about how their advanced metabolisms left them perpetually hungry, but you rarely had cause to see it in action. 

When you were alone once more, Wolffe fixed you with a measuring look. “Did you read what I sent?” 

“And everything else I could find,” you admitted. “There’s a lot more to this than I thought there would be.” 

Wolffe nodded. “Did you decide what you want to do?” 

You stared at him, feeling suddenly unsure. Did he want you to just start listing the things you wanted him to do to you? That seemed abrupt. “I- What exactly…” 

“Let me clarify that,” Wolffe interrupted. “Do you want to be in a power-exchange relationship? If you learned more about it and decided that it’s too much, we can just have lunch.” 

“No, I want to do this!” you insisted, relieved that he had been asking something more surface-level. “I was just surprised it was so… customizable.” 

Wolffe fought a smile as you watched. Eventually, he said, “Very customizable. In fact, that’s what we’re going to talk about today. You read the articles I sent about contracts?” 

You nodded. “I even made some notes.” 

“That’s good,” Wolffe said, setting a datapad on the surface of the table. “Get them out and we’ll incorporate them into the contract. I’ll send you my template so you can read along while we discuss terms.” 

You were building a contract now? Despite your shock, you were thrilled by the idea, and fumbled a bit as you pulled out your own datapad. 

As soon as you were settled, Wolffe got started: “I’m a dominant, though you probably know that from our time together. I’m looking for a submissive.” 

He didn’t continue, and the silence stretched uncomfortably. Eventually, you said, “Well, you already know I’m fine letting you take the lead.” 

“For right now, let’s pretend we don’t know much about each other,” he suggested. “If we lay everything out now, there won’t be any surprises later. I don’t want you to feel like you’ve been tricked into anything you’re not really interested in. Agreed?” 

You nodded. 

“I’m dominant, not a switch. I am in control. Period. I may be willing to let you take the lead every so often, but that would be a reward for something big you did. I need to know you’re good with taking orders and surrendering power to me on a regular basis.” 

“That appeals to me,” you agreed, trying not to sound overeager. “I can’t say I have a lot of experience with relationships like this one, but I really enjoyed being with you. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 

Wolffe’s eyes darkened, but he made a note on the datapad and moved on. “Good. You know I work with the GAR, so I can be off-planet for weeks at a time. Knowing that, I think it would be best if we don’t have a full-time power-exchange relationship.” 

“That sounds like it wouldn’t be feasible. Plus…” You paused, choosing your words carefully. “I’m interested in this, but I don’t know if I would want to jump into such an intense relationship for my first one. It seems like it might be overwhelming.” 

“It probably would be, and I’m glad you’re setting limits.” Wolffe made another note. “This one is non-negotiable: I only do exclusive contracts. If you are going to be my submissive, you are mine. I’m yours in exchange. If I’m off-planet during a mission, neither of us are sleeping with anyone else. If we aren’t spending time together, we’re still exclusive. Any breach of this clause - on either side - would mean immediate dissolution of the contract. Can you agree to that?”

“I can,” you said, but frowned. “How would that be determined? I don’t want to sign myself up for constantly defending myself and trying to convince you that I’m not sleeping around behind your back.”

“Excellent question,” Wolffe conceded. “I operate on a policy of full honesty. That’s the only way power-exchange relationships can be successful. We both need to be able to trust that the other is being honest about everything from a new position to a potential breaking of the contract. Is that acceptable?” 

“Yes.” 

“Excellent.” Wolffe’s shoulders lost some of the tension that had appeared over the last few minutes. “Have you given any thought to how much power exchanging you’re interested in? We can keep it only in the bedroom, or extend it into everyday life - as much or little as you want.” 

“I think I want some stuff to carry outside of the bedroom.” It had been something you had thought about quite a bit. You weren’t interested in a full power-exchange lifestyle at this point, but you did find the idea of giving up some control interesting. “Is there anything we can do long-distance? Sorry if that doesn’t make sense-” 

Wolffe interrupted your self-conscious rambling. “There are things we can do. When we get to that section, I’ll bring them up. Do you have a specific time frame in mind?” 

“To get started?” you asked. “I was thinking… now. Or as soon as possible.”

“I meant to end this relationship,” Wolffe amended, watching you steadily. There was no pressure in his eyes, no push to give a certain answer. “Some people only want to do this for a certain amount of time, especially with an exclusivity clause involved.” 

You nodded slowly. “I didn’t have anything in mind. Is this something we can discuss later? Or can I bring up a change when I need to?” 

“We’ll regularly discuss our terms,” he assured you. “At least once every few months, we’ll read through the contract, discuss any changes that need to be made, and make sure everything is rewritten to both of our satisfaction. For now, we can leave the duration of our relationship open-ended.” 

Before you could add anything else, the server came back, dropping off your food and drinks with a small smile. When you had declined anything else, you and Wolffe were left alone. You turned to find him setting both of your datapads aside, stacking them on the farthest corner of the table. 

“We can keep working while we eat,” you told him. 

“No,” Wolffe refused. It didn’t seem to be up for debate, but he lightened his tone as he said, “I would like for you to focus on your food. Taste every bite, feel it fill your stomach. Eat deliberately.” 

You nodded, feeling like you had been issued a challenge. For the next few minutes, you concentrated on your salad, making sure that every bite contained every component of the dish. You chewed carefully, letting the flavors mingle and combine on your tongue.

When your plate was noticeably emptier, Wolffe nudged a smaller dish over to you. It was roasted ronto, sliced into bite-sized pieces. “Have some of this, too.” 

You glanced at him, startled. He lifted a brow. “If you don’t eat meat, I’ll find a replacement, but I would prefer if you had some protein in your lunch. That will keep you from being hungry later.” 

“I don’t want to eat the food you ordered for yourself,” you protested. The ronto did smell fairly mouth-watering. 

“I ordered it for you,” Wolffe said, casually. “I listened what you chose and adjusted my plan to fit yours.”

You took some roasted ronto without further argument. 

When you had finished, Wolffe sat back and crossed his arms, nodding at the table. “Stack our plates and silverware. Neaten the table up for the server and we’ll have room to continue our conversation.” 

This felt like another test, but you were keenly aware that this was what you were signing yourself up for with the contract. You did as Wolffe had said, even going so far as to sweep a few stray crumbs into a napkin that you deposited on the topmost dish. 

“Good,” Wolffe said, the approval plain in his rumbling voice. It warmed you, but not as much as his next point: “If we were established, I would reward that initiative. Maybe not in a way you requested, but in a way I knew you would enjoy.” 

You shifted in your seat, barely managing to not ask him if he could make an exception. 

“I would like for our relationship to be one between a dominant and a submissive rather than a master and slave,” Wolffe said, passing you your datapad while he tapped his own. “But if you had your heart set on master/slave, we could discuss options.” 

“I… actually don’t see much of a difference,” you admitted. 

Wolffe nodded. “Easy enough. Dominant and submissive means that I’ll be taking control of our sexual encounters and a few times outside of the bedroom. Master and slave relationships include the master taking complete control, and the slave focuses on serving the master. There are usually more overt signs of ownership and a longer ‘breaking in’ period.”

“Dominant and submissive sounds better to me.” 

“Perfect. I want you to call me ‘commander’ or ‘sir’ when we’re doing a scene. I prefer to use the color system when we’re talking during anything intense. Green is ‘keep going’, yellow is ‘go slow’ or ‘I’m not sure’, and red is ‘I don’t like this’. You’re more than welcome to use the colors at any time, of course, but I’ll be checking in with you constantly if we’re getting into anything more intense. I’m open to trying something different if you have another option. Do you have a particular safeword in mind?”

“‘Sir’ or ‘commander’ in the bedroom. Colors work fine.” You weren’t taking as many notes as Wolffe, but you still jotted down the basics of what he had said as you worked on your answers. “I don’t have a safeword picked out, but maybe… Kashyyyk?” 

“Kashyyyk,” Wolffe repeated, writing it down when you nodded. A faint smile played around his mouth. “I’ll try to avoid any Wookiee-themed scenes, then.” 

“Glad to hear it, but I’m also fascinated by that being an option,” you teased. 

“Everything’s an option, sweetheart,” Wolffe told you, a gleam in his mismatched eyes. “Which brings us to our next topic: hard and soft limits.” 

You nodded, pulling your datapad closer. This was one of the few things you had written down before. “For hard limits, I don’t want permanent marks, I don’t enjoy being choked, and I won’t eat or lick anything disgusting. Scat play is off the table for me entirely, and I don’t like verbal abuse.” 

“Noted,” Wolffe said, doing exactly that. “Is there a line for verbal abuse, or do you object to negative terms entirely?”

After a moment to think about it, you shook your head. “I think derogatory names and terms are a soft limit, as long as they don’t go too far.” 

“We can add more to the list later if we try things and you don’t like them. I would prefer you try new challenges once before we add them to the limits list, but I’ll never make you do something you object to.” Wolffe took a sip from his glass. “Any other hard limits you have?”

“Um… I won’t call anyone ‘daddy’,” you stipulated, looking him in the eyes as you said it. It was one of the few things you weren’t willing to consider at all. It simply wasn’t for you. 

Wolffe entered that into the contract. “And other soft limits?” 

“Sharing, play that’s more pain than pleasure, and being tied up for an extended period of time,” you rattled off. 

“I can address some of those right now,” Wolffe told you. “I don’t share except in very special circumstances. Even then, you would be the first person I discussed it with. If you’re not interested, that’s the end of it. Pain play is an acquired taste and must be done carefully. The same thing applies to long-term restraints. If you decide you want to try either, we’ll be careful to make it as safe as possible to reduce the risk of nerve damage.” 

That all sounded reasonable to you, so you entered it into your datapad. “Do you want to tell me your hard limits?” 

Wolffe glanced at you, seeming a little startled. “Since I’ll be designing our scenes, they shouldn’t be an issue. If we get close to any of my limits, I will warn you.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed. “What’s next?” 

“One of the ways we can keep the relationship going while I’m off-planet is by coming up with a list of rules and rituals,” Wolffe said. “Do you have anything in mind?” 

Fortunately, this was another topic you had made notes on. “I want one of your shirts to sleep in while you’re gone.” 

Wolffe’s eyes darkened. “Sweetheart, I’m tempted to give you that one for free. But I’m too selfish for that, and my first request is a big one: I want to dictate when you come.” 

Your face heated dramatically at that, even as the same thing happened between your thighs. However, as hot as you found the concept, there was something in the idea that didn’t sit right with you. Arguing his first rule hadn’t been your intention, but you were already shaking your head. “No. I’m sorry, but I can’t be exclusive with you gone so often and only come when you tell me I can.” 

Part of you had been worried that Wolffe would say your agreement was void, but he changed demands smoothly and easily. “Then I want you to tell me when you do come.”

You relaxed slightly. “I can do that.” 

“Are you sure?” he pressed. “I’ll want to know details: when, where, how, how it made you feel, what you thought about while you touched yourself… Can you agree to all of that?” 

“Yes, I can.” You issued your next rule: “I want for us to go out together every time you come home from a mission. I want to know the man I’m sleeping with.” 

Wolffe nodded slowly. “One stipulation: clones aren’t paid a salary, so there are only certain places we can go.”

“I’ll agree to that if you’ll agree to let me pay if we decide to go somewhere different.” 

There was an internal battle being waged, and you were fascinated to see which side won. Eventually, Wolffe’s jaw flexed and he growled, “Fine.” 

The clear disapproval in his voice made you feel victorious. Sweetly, you said, “You can go ahead with your next rule.” 

The flash of satisfaction on Wolffe’s face is the first hint you got that you may have overplayed your hand. “I want to choose your underwear when I’m gone. I’ll pick it out before I leave.”

“I get to veto when I’m on my cycle,” you countered. 

“Fine.” Wolffe crossed his arms, looking smug. “But I want holoimage proof that you’re wearing what I’ve picked out.” 

Your lips parted at that. You weren’t against the idea, but… “You’ll be in a war zone.” 

“Not always,” he assured you. “I have a private comlink, encrypted better than anything else in the GAR. If I can safely receive messages, I’ll send you a code word and you’ll send me every picture you’ve taken for the days I’ve been out of contact.” 

“If you can guarantee that no one else will see them, I agree.” 

Wolffe nodded, the motion tight. “I don’t share, remember? I will be the only one to see those holos.”

“Then yes,” you said, already dreading the images you would have to take. “For my next rule, I want you to tell me if you touch yourself looking at one of my holos. And which one it is.”

Wolffe paused. “I have no problem with that, but I need you to understand that it’s non-traditional for a sub to have that much power over her dom. I’m agreeing as a concession to get what I want, but if I get any hint of you trying to top from the bottom, I’ll have to punish you. Do you know what that means?” 

You had come across the term during your research and, thankfully, had made a mental note of it. “It’s when a submissive tries to take control of a situation or scene.” 

“And why is that bad?” 

“Because…” You frowned, having not expected him to push for deeper understanding. “Because it means the sub isn’t being submissive?” 

“Yes, but it is a sign of a deeper problem,” Wolffe told you. “It means you don’t trust your dominant to take care of you. A lack of trust destroys the bond you’re forming, which can destroy your relationship. That’s why topping from the bottom usually gets the harshest punishments.” 

Was it a bad sign that your body tightened at the mention of punishment? It had to be, and yet…

“My last rule is that I want you to wear something of mine.” 

“Your shirt, right?” you asked. 

“Along with that. I mean something more permanent.” Wolffe gave you a considering look. “Did you read about the concept of collaring?” 

You balked. “I… Yes, but I don’t know if I’m comfortable with the idea of wearing a collar. It seems… demeaning.” 

“That’s the point,” Wolffe said, clearly trying to fight his amusement. “A collar is a mark of ownership, and ‘demeaning’ acts are a major part of most power-exchange relationships.”

“I don’t think I can get away with wearing a collar around in my everyday life.”

Wolffe’s expression cleared. “It won’t be a physical collar. Not with how subtle and controlled we want our relationship to be. More like a piece of jewelry you don’t take off. Something that makes you think of me when you see it. Something that people in the community might recognize, but no one in the outside galaxy would.”

“Oh.” It sounded far less threatening when he phrased it that way. “I can agree to that.” 

“Good,” Wolffe said, jotting down a few more notes. “I’ll find a few choices and get your input. You should expect to be collared before my next mission off-planet. We probably won’t actually fuck until you’re wearing it.”

You nodded, disappointed by the news that you couldn’t expect to find relief anytime soon. The conversation as a whole made the relationship seem far more real than it had. Before this, everything you had discussed could be about someone other than you. Some fantasy version of yourself, who wasn’t scared or particular, who wasn’t hurt by a recent rejection, who chased her pleasure wherever she might find it. You wanted to be that version of yourself, and if this was the way to do it? It seemed you could live with that. 

“Those are all of the rules I could think of,” you told him, taking a large gulp of your drink. It wasn’t alcoholic, but you hoped it would help steady you. “Any more for you?” 

“I think we have a good foundation to build on,” Wolffe said, scanning over what he had written down so far. “The only thing left to discuss is what punishments we agree on.” 

Your body tightened, and you shifted in your seat. “I did some research, but I wasn’t sure where to start. How bad is a punishment supposed to be?” 

“Ideally, a punishment should be something at least slightly enjoyable that does no permanent damage, but can be made more intense if the situation calls for it.” Wolffe slid his datapad over to you. “I wrote down some ideas for punishments that fit those parameters. Most of them can be done over a distance, so we can make sure the punishments come close to when they’re earned.”

You took the datapad - pausing for a moment to appreciate Wolffe’s neat handwriting - and scanned down the list. 

Orgasm denial 

Ben Wa balls

One set for training, one for pleasure, one for punishment 

Anal plug

Nipple clamps

Temperature play punishments 

Freezing a toy or using hot wax 

Remote-controlled toys 

Some to be worn in public

Wearing your best stoic expression, you gave a considering nod. Some of the ideas on Wolffe’s list were intense or intimidating, but you couldn’t deny that all of them piqued your interest. That seemed the most elegant way of saying that your breathing had picked up and your panties were soaked through.

You nudged the datapad back to Wolffe. “I would be willing to try all of those punishments.” 

“Good girl,” Wolffe encouraged. You wondered if he knew the way that pulled even more of a response from your body. “If we have to do a punishment while I’m off-planet, I’ll need holo proof of you being punished. Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded, not trusting your voice. 

“Then all that’s left to do is sign,” Wolffe said, making final updates to the contract. “Do you want some time to look over it and make adjustments of your own? I can give you a few days.” 

“Days?” you echoed, dismayed. “No, I was reading along while we discussed. I didn’t see anything I object to. At least, not right now.”

“If you’re sure…” Wolffe said doubtfully. He only seemed mollified when you gave a firm nod. “Then I need your signature on this line. I’ll send you the final copy after I sign.” 

Could he see the way your fingers trembled as you scrawled your name on the line he had indicated? You hoped not. Either way, he didn’t comment as he signed his own name beneath yours.

“Now what?” you asked, cursing the breathiness in your voice. 

“Now…” Wolffe said, carefully setting the datapad aside. When that was done, he leveled a predatory look at you. “We can celebrate our new arrangement. Tell me, sweetheart: are you wet for me?”

---

Author's Note - As usual, you can expect a second (spicy) chapter tomorrow.

Thanks for reading!

[lonelycelsadpilled]

Tomoko was such a relatable and important character to me, and as a kid I was so disheartened to see the anime YouTubers I liked at the time didn’t like her.

They’d call her weird and say ‘who would even act like this?’ But I understood her, and looking back, she was fifteen. I thought she was eighteen, but she was fifteen. Of course she’s cringe.

As a kid I would sit alone a lot. When I was around the age of seven, I’d get calls home saying that I was just alone all the time, but as a kid I just didn’t want to play with kids anymore. I wanted to be by myself, I wanted to be alone. I’d ask if I could work alone any chance I got, and that lasted until I left school. I actually left school at fifteen, Tomoko’s age, because I was anxious and stopped going. I struggled really hard to socialise and to feel like I fit in with others. I didn’t do my homework and I would get detentions where I’d have to miss the first ten minutes of lunch, but I didn’t care. The ‘friends’ I had at the time wouldn’t miss me, and I knew that. It saved the awkwardness. Eventually, I stopped hanging out with my friend group, and I’d sit alone instead. It was always so much easier to be alone because it felt like nobody liked me, but I didn’t really like them either.

I didn’t have the best view of women as a kid. In anime I’d only be exposed to girls who I couldn’t relate to. They were too girly, too bubbly, too obsessed with boys in their cutesy loving ways. Now I feel like we have way more female anime characters that are loud and boyish and gross and weird. Power from Chainsaw Man comes to my mind, though she isn’t completely free from sexualisation, but I do love her so much as a character. She was written by a man, after all, so I can’t expect her to not be shown inappropriately. Still, she is an ego-manic and is shown vomiting, not flushing, being generally gross and disugsting. It was honestly nice to see an anime girl with less likeable gross traits.

Tomoko was one of the girls that stood out to me when I was watching copywritten anime on YouTube before double digits. I really saw myself in her. She was anxious, had judgemental thoughts about people, struggled to talk, struggled with her self image and was a bit of a pervert. Am I happy to say that I was a weird and gross kid? Not really, but I hit puberty pretty early (I got my period at eight) and I grew up on the more inappropriate side of the internet. I was looking at sexual My Little Pony games, watching Kiss x Sis, watching and reading whatever weird pornography I could. I was pretty hormonal, admittedly, and I grew up not fully knowing boundaries and knowing what was okay, which actually sounds way worse than it was.

I don’t know. I feel like the people that hate on Tomoko didn’t grow up with her as a lonely and anxious kid who was exposed to the internet too early. My favourite anime YouTubers were social school boys who are now internet celebrity men, of course they don’t get it, she isn’t for them.

I understand she’s… Weird. Looking back on it, there’s some stuff you don’t really pick up on when you’re a kid. I mean, looking back on Lucky Star, Konata has a dad who was a lolicon and was pretty vocal about that. Wouldn’t he also go to schools and take pictures of the seventeen year old girls? I mean, I didn’t really take in any of that stuff, but I could relate to Konata liking anime and being online, the artsy Tamura character who likes girls kissing, the fujoshiness of Kagami (I’ve grown out of that, thankfully.)

There are some people that just didn’t grow up as, and currently live as, losers. They don’t get it. They don’t have to get it. There’s a lot of negative stigma around girls who relate to Tomoko, and I guess I don’t get it because she was one of the only anime characters I really saw myself in. I’ve never really related to a character the same way. It was nice to actually relate to something for once as a kid who didn’t see themselves in anybody.