#there is a certain point where if it keeps on going

[lazysoulwriter]

until the end. - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you so much for sending.

---

Pedro hadn't wanted you there at first.

"It’s gonna be ugly," he'd said, tugging you close in bed the night before. "Brutal. You don’t need to see it."

But the moment his voice cracked — the smallest tremor — you knew he needed you far more than he realized. So you went.

The set was colder than you expected — not just physically, but emotionally, too. Everyone was professional, respectful, quiet. There was a certain heaviness in the air, a collective understanding: this was the scene.

Joel's end.

You found a corner near the monitors, out of the way but within Pedro's line of sight. He spotted you instantly, his shoulders relaxing just a little.

You offered him a small smile, your fingers curling into a heart across your chest. Pedro smirked — a soft, private thing — before disappearing into character.

Watching him die was harder than you thought it would be.

Even though you knew the script. Even though you knew it was fake. Even though you knew Pedro was right there, breathing, alive. It didn’t matter.

The first take, you had to clamp your hand over your mouth to keep from making a sound. The second, you had tears streaming down your face.

By the third, you were practically vibrating with the need to just hold him.

Pedro was too good — too real — and seeing him broken, bloodied, gasping for air... it shattered something inside you. And it broke him, too.

Between takes, he'd shuffle off the set, still half in character, his face caked in horrifying makeup — bruises, cuts, blood. You could see it: the way his shoulders curled inward, the way he struggled to shake off the sadness clinging to him.

Without thinking, you rushed to him.

Someone must've snapped a picture right then — you wrapping your arms around Pedro, burying your face in his chest like you could protect him from the script itself. Pedro clinging back just as tightly, his hands trembling slightly against your spine.

In full dead-Joel makeup, he looked terrifying. But to you, he was just Pedro. Your Pedro.

You kissed his jaw, whispered, "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here," like a mantra only he was meant to hear.

He breathed out a shaky laugh, squeezing you harder. "You shouldn’t have come," he rasped, voice thick with emotion. "You needed me," you murmured back, pulling away just enough to cup his battered-looking face in your hands.

Another picture captured the moment his forehead pressed to yours, his fake blood smearing across your skin, neither of you caring.

You stayed like that for a long time — just holding each other, grounding each other — until the director gently called him back.

Pedro kissed your forehead once, lingering. "Stay where I can see you," he whispered.

You nodded, your heart in pieces.

The rest of the day blurred into a series of heartbreaking takes, whispered reassurances, and moments where Pedro would glance over, find your eyes, and remember he wasn't really alone in all this.

At one point, between scenes, you climbed into his lap in a quiet corner, wrapping yourself around him like armor. He buried his face in your neck, breathing you in.

Someone took a picture of that too.

And another, later, when it was all over — when Pedro, still painted like a corpse, cradled you as you cried silently into his shoulder, overwhelmed by everything you'd seen. He rocked you gently, whispering soothing nonsense into your hair.

"I'm okay, cariño. It's just pretend. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

The BTS pictures dropped a week later.

The fandom imploded.

There you were, in shot after shot — holding Pedro like your life depended on it, him holding you back, both of you wearing your hearts on your sleeves.

#protectpedropascal trended within minutes. #protecthisgirl wasn't far behind.

Tweets poured in:

"They’re literally saving each other." "How am I supposed to survive knowing Pedro Pascal cuddled his wife through fake death?" "Someone write fanfic about THEM, they’re the real love story." "This is the most devastating and healing thing I’ve ever seen."

Pedro reposted one of the pictures on his Instagram story — the one where you were cradling his battered face, forehead to forehead. No caption. Just a heart.

You, watching from the couch, sniffled pathetically.

Pedro grinned, pulling you into his arms.

"You saved me that day," he said softly.

"You saved me too," you whispered back.

And you would — over and over again, for the rest of your lives.

Until the end. And beyond.

-----

[from-autor]

im not even american but i want to tell a story about me and my parents mountain hike in a national park

the thing is, even if all three of us were inexperienced in this kind of thing, my dad is very good at predicting and taking precaution. we wore good boots. we took a lot of water and had warm jackets with us, even if it was a warm summer day. it was actually great. to a very certain point.

we made it to one of the mountains top. there was a mesmerizing great view, chill air and a monument of someone there. as i said — it was good.

and the trail kinda ended there.

there was no signs of trail leading forward (downward), only the one we came from. and my parents went "yeah we will just go down through the woods". i can not emphasize with you how against the idea i was. nonetheless we went through the woods.

after an hour or two we met another trail. it was on the other side of the mountain, basically at its base. we were dirty with mud all over our clothes. tired as fuck. my mother sprained an ankle on a wet rock and didn't tell anybody. my dad was helping me to not loose my mind there, while i know he had his own troubles with it. i was so scared and tired that my brain just went to survival mode and i don't remember four to five hours of that trip.

people who we met on the trail were clean, in flip-flops, smiling and enjoying life.

because, as it turned out when we made it out of that park, the part of not-trail we went through was CLOSED ON RECONSTRUCTION because it was that unstable and dangerous. the safety nets were rusty and tarnished. the railing was unstable. at one point there was a small river and the bridge to the other side was non-existent. it was broken, with bits of it still collecting rust on the both side of that non-trail. we had to make it to the other side with sticks and slippery huge stones in the river.

it never even occurred to me what could've happened if one of us would get lost there. walking down through the wild forest without a soul nearby. thank everything the only injury we took was my mothers ankle and my hurting knees afterwards.

please PLEASE even if there are no signs like "keep out" "dangerous" etc (as it was NOT in my story. all the signs were on the other side of that trail, the more "popular side" of that national park) stop and think if you have a suspicion that there is no trail forward. maybe there is a reason for that. and help me gods DO NOT go through and un-trailed forest in the middle of mountains alone even if you think that you know where you are going. i still think it was a miracle that we made it safe and sound out of there.

and rip my favourite boots at that time. you served me well. no wonder you didn't last long after that.

Any conspiracy theory about people going missing in National Parks is automatically silly to me. Like "Why are National Parks such a hotbed of disappearances???" because they're full of idiots. You've got thousands of people who've never pissed outdoors in their life wandering around the woods/desert/mountain with zero experience and zero gear and zero understanding that this place can kill them. You don't see as many disappearances in wild areas because people don't go to them unless they have some background knowledge. Whereas you get tour buses full of old folks and suburban families shuttling people into National Parks 365 days a year. If you took the same amount of buffoons and dropped them in the actual wilderness the disappearances would be significantly higher than at the parks. Use your brain.

[tobesolnelyx]

"Still panting, but already ready for round two."

So round 2 ? Shauna fucking R senseless from the bed to the bathroom, bending R over every surface to the point where R don't even have any strength to move, twist, whine or moan, just lying motionless, the cum just pour out naturally

— she keeps me up || fratboy!shauna shipman x fem!reader 🐶

a/n: arghhh i need her so bad.

summary: shauna fucks you hard. her libido is insane!

warnings: NSFW - MDNI. g!p shauna. dom!shauna. reader!receiving. smut. porn without plot.

She muffles your giggles with a fierce kiss, capturing your lips hungrily. A small sound escapes from the back of your throat when her hot, wet tongue slides into your mouth.

You’re almost certain you’re soaking through your jeans at this point.

Your hands tighten in her hair, pulling her as close as possible. She nips at your bottom lip, and her cock brushes against your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine.

You try to reach for her, to wrap your fingers around her length and pump, but she easily pins your wrists to the mattress with one hand.

Obviously, she’s been working out. If you asked her, she’d say it’s absolutely necessary when you’re on the soccer team, right? And the fact that her girlfriend is practically drooling over the abs? Just… a nice bonus.

You wrap your legs around her hips, trying to grind against her length—still soft from the last orgasm—but she almost painfully presses your thighs to the sheets, stopping your movement.

You whine, pouting at the loss of friction, and pull back.

“Asshole—” you start, but before you can even finish the thought, she peels your jeans and panties off in one rough move. She pins you again, grinning wickedly at the sight of your swollen, dripping cunt.

“All of this for me?” she teases, raising a brow in mock surprise. “God, you made such a mess, babe,” she shakes her head, clearly enjoying herself.

You furrow your brows, about to snap something back, but she shuts you up by shoving two fingers into your soaked pussy. She stretches you effortlessly (as if you hadn’t taken her dick a million times before) and you cry out at the sensation.

Your hand grips her forearm tightly as she pumps in and out, pushing deeper with every thrust. The room fills with your needy whines, the slick sounds of your wetness growing louder with each movement. And just as you’re finally tipping over the edge —

She stops.

“Seriously, Shipman?” you groan desperately, arching your back and bucking your hips, silently begging her to move again.

She just shrugs. You open your mouth, ready to call her a dickhead, but then she grips you and flips you onto your stomach.

She presses your face into the pillow and you whimper into the fabric, clutching the sheets so tightly your knuckles turn white.

Shauna positions herself behind you, adjusts your hips, and strokes herself a few times, smearing pre-cum along the length of her hardening cock.

“C’mon.” She teases. Her hands land on your hips—and without warning, she pushes herself deep inside you in one swift, brutal thrust. She let out a satisfied groan. “Y’know im going to make you feel good, babe.”

You moan, nearly forgetting how to breathe. Your knees give out under you, but she holds you firmly.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” she groans, bottoming out inside you. She draws her hips back and drives in again, so deep you sob into the pillow, your whole body shaking.

Finally, she finds a rhythm—slow and deep at first, then faster, harder. Her cock pounds into you, already slick from your arousal. The bed creaks and slams against the wall, but neither of you care.

“Such a fucking good girl,” she breathes, sinking into you again. Her grip on your hips tightens, and she thrusts so deep you fall apart right there. You cry out her name into the pillow as you cum, juices gushing around her cock, your legs trembling helplessly.

It’s embarrassing how quickly you unravel for her.

And she’s nowhere near finished with you.

She scoops you up easily and carries you to the bathroom. She hasn’t even come yet—and you know damn well she plans to, after she ruins you completely.

She sets you down on the sink and immediately drops to her knees to bury her face between your legs. Her tongue plunges into your slick folds and you wrap your legs around her shoulders, still trembling from your last orgasm but already teetering on the edge of another.

She nips at your clit, her tongue darting quick and relentless strokes before thrusting deep inside you. You squirm, moaning shamelessly, your head falling back to thud against the mirror.

“Fuck, Shauna, I—” you gasp, your legs trembling so violently you can barely keep yourself upright on the sink. Your fingers tangle in her hair, grinding desperately against her face.

When she finally pulls back to look at you, her chin, lips, and even the tip of her nose are glistening, completely soaked in your juices.

You let out a broken moan at the sight—and then she dives back in without hesitation, burying her face in your folds again. Her tongue moves with new, ravenous energy, making you breathless, making you sob her name into the steamy bathroom air.

And when she finally adds her fingers—slipping two, then three deep inside you—it’s over.

You shatter instantly, your body arching off the sink, toes curling, a scream tearing from your throat. Holy shit, you’re so responsive for her it’s almost embarrassing.

You’re dripping, wrecked and trembling when she grabs you again—like you weigh nothing—and hauls you across the apartment.

She lays you out on the kitchen table, not even pretending to be gentle anymore. Not like she doesn’t love you. She does. She just needs to shove her dick back into you.

Your skin sticks slightly to the cold surface, your thighs slick and shaking as she towers over you, stroking herself slowly, teasing, making sure you see just how hard she is. And Jesus — her cock looks like on the edge of exploding.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, voice thick with lust. “Fucking perfect and so good for me.”

She pushes your knees apart, lining herself up—and with one rough thrust, she’s inside you again, knocking all the air from your lungs.

The table creaks under you as she sets a brutal rhythm, fucking into you with sharp, deep strokes that leave you gasping and helpless beneath her. Her balls slams against your entrance.

Her hands clamp down on your hips to hold you still, bruising in the best possible way and she watches you fall apart over and over again—your body offered up completely for her.

She finally cums with a deep, guttural groan, burying herself as deep as she can and flooding your insides with thick, hot spurts of cum.

She growls low in her throat at the sight of you—spread out across the table, completely wrecked. A single tear slips from the corner of your eye, sliding down your cheek, and you don’t even have the strength to moan, whimper, or speak.

Your voice is ruined just like the rest of you.

Her cum drips lazily out of your puffy stretched cunt, trailing down your thighs, smearing the wood beneath you. You’re nothing but a trembling, hot mess—fucked out in every possible way.

And judging by the way she smiles—slow, cocky, stroking her dick lazily as she watches her cum leak from you hole—?

She’s still not done.

[jayblades]

practice round

dick grayson x fem!reader

summary; when some guy takes an interest in you, your extremely thoughtful best friend dick convinces you that you need a little more… experience. and who better to help you practice, than himself?

warnings; 18+, manipulation, yandere-lite themes… best friends <3 nsfw, reader is inexperienced, but not a virgin, possessiveness, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill)

author’s note; felt depraved things writing this… if you enjoy then let me know!

You’re sat on your bed, curled up near the edge where Dick is sprawled out on the floor beside you, scrolling through his phone.

He noticed a slight shift in your behaviour about ten minutes ago when you’d received a notification on your phone. He wonders if you’re going to tell him about it — he supposes it doesn’t really matter if you don’t. He’ll just look through it later, but of course he wants you to be the one to share.

You look so nervous, knees drawn up to your chest like you’re trying to make yourself smaller. It’s adorable. It’s pathetic. It makes something sharp twist in Dick’s stomach.

Finally, you blurt it out. “So… this guy asked me out.”

Dick stills, his finger hovering over his phone screen as he freezes in place. “Yeah? Who?”

You say his name like you’re embarrassed and Dick smiles, slow and easy. But inside, he’s seething. It takes a lot to keep his expression carefully neutral. He’s heard you talk about this guy before, offhandedly calling him cute. He has no idea you may have possibly been forming a crush on him.

You hug your pillow against your chest and scrunch up your nose. “He’s so… popular. You know? Good looking. Everyone’s obsessed with him, so I don’t know…”

“Sure,” Dick mumbles, pretending to focus on his Instagram feed again. “He’s been with… what, half the senior class?”

You wince. Dick thanks the universe in this moment that the guy who has taken an interest in you is basically a manwhore. It’s going to make this so much easier.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I guess. He’s really, uh, experienced.”

Dick turns around to face you properly. He scans your face, assessing the way you bite at your lip and look down, your gaze faraway somewhere. “Wait, you’re nervous.”

He forces himself to sound surprised, but of course he knows you’re nervous. He’s banking on it, in fact.

You nod, sighing as you lean back on your bed. “What if I’m not enough for him in… y’know, that area. He’s probably used to girls who know what they’re doing and I’ve barely even—”

“Hey, hey,” Dick cuts you off, getting up to take a seat next to you on the bed and reaching a hand out to lightly squeeze your knee. “You’re more than enough, sweetheart.”

He means that. You’re way more than that jackass deserves. Dick has heard how he’s talked about women before. Even if this guy wasn’t scum, there’s no way in hell Dick is going to let him have you. The gears in his mind are already turning and there���s a growing excitement in his lower belly that he can hardly contain.

“You just said that he’s been with so many people,” you point out, frowning at him.

Dick sighs, like it pains him to say it. “Yeah, well. Sure, he’s probably used to certain things. Stuff he’s probably expecting without even thinking about it. But that isn’t your fault.”

You stare at him, looking utterly crestfallen. He can practically hear your heart sinking and it only spurs him on as he shifts closer to you, dropping his voice into something more intimate and safe.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you. You know that right?”

“Thanks, Dick,” you mumble, trying to smile. But he’s not done.

“It’s just guys like him,” Dick continues slowly and deliberately, carefully choosing his words. “They get bored really fast. If something feels too new… too awkward…”

He trails off, allowing the implication to hang heavy between you. Dick is well aware that you’re not a virgin, but you may as well be. He’s talking bullshit, obviously. He knows that this guy would kill to have you in his bed and that your lack of experience would only make you more appealing to his sick mind. Dick would know, considering his mind is even sicker when it comes to you. The difference is that you actually mean something to Dick.

“Oh,” you whisper, dropping your gaze. You look disappointed and Dick knows exactly what to say next.

“Look, if you’re that worried,” he starts, sighing like you’ve presented him with a problem. “You could always practice.”

You blink at him, startled. “Practice?”

He smiles at you, all warm and encouraging like he’s offering you a life raft. “Yeah. To get comfortable. Figure out what you like, what feels good. What to do. So that when it matters, you’re not nervous.”

You let out a nervous laugh, hesitating. “I guess. But, with who?”

Dick shrugs, noncommittal. “Me, if you want.”

As expected, you whip your head up to gape at him, wide-eyed and shocked. “What?”

He rolls his eyes, as though what you’re saying is silly. “Don’t make it weird,” he chuckles under his breath, keeping his hand on your knee. “We’re best friends. You trust me, right?”

You open your mouth, like you’re about to argue but then you shut it. Because you do trust him — you always have. “Yeah, I do, but—”

“Doesn’t have to mean anything,” he says, softening his voice even more. Every word coming out of his mouth is a lie, but they’re necessary, really. You don’t know what you want yet, which is exactly why he’s here to help. “And wouldn’t you want to practice with someone you’re comfortable with? Someone who only wants to make you feel good and confident. To teach you how to make someone happy.”

Lies, lies, lies. He has no intention of letting that happen.

Dick starts to stroke your wrist, thumb gliding lazy circles over your pulse like he’s trying to calm you down. Judging by the way it quickens, he’s doing the opposite and he has to fight to hide his grin.

Your voice cracks when you finally whisper back. “You really think it’ll help?”

“Yeah, but it’s totally up to you. You don’t have to decide right now,” he says lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and marvelling at how your gaze is tracking his every movement. “If you’re already this nervous…”

Your voice comes out impossibly small. “What would we even do?”

Dick’s mouth twitches as he tries not to smile triumphantly. He’s got you exactly where he wants and he’s elated.

“We can just kiss for now,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over your lips, immediately making them part. Fuck, he’s going to have a hard time stopping if that’s all you want to do. “Whatever you want.”

After hesitating for a second and testing Dick’s patience, you finally nod. It’s shy, barely a movement of your head, but you’re smiling at him and Dick feels it go straight to his groin.

“Okay, then,” he murmurs, agreeable like you’ve coaxed him into it. “Do you want to set the pace, or should I?”

Your shoulders relax a little at the kindness in his voice and you swallow. “You… you can.”

He almost groans at your words. So submissive, so willing. You’re giving him permission to do what he wants and oh, he’s going to take it.

Dick gently positions you so that you’re facing him a little closer, sneaking his hand around to your back like he’s done a million times. Except this time, he gently lifts up your chin and offers you a reassuring smile and you can’t help returning it, albeit nervously. It’s Dick after all — your best friend in the whole world. And he’s such a good one for helping you out, right?

As if you’re getting impatient, you glance down at his lips and he decides that’s enough playing around.

Dick leans forward and brushes his lips against yours to test the waters. When you don’t move away, he presses his mouth to yours and your eyes flutter shut.

You’re a little stiff at first, hesitant and unsure as you allow Dick to lead. And he’s more than happy to show you.

He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss as his hand slips back to cradle the back of your neck. His fingers tangle in your hair, fully controlling your movements and you let out the tiniest, most helpless whimper he’s ever heard from you.

Dick nearly loses it there and then.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to speak, and his lips brush yours with every word. “You can kiss me back, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice coaxing and patient. He brushes his knuckles against your spine and swallows hard when you instinctively arch up into him. “Just… follow what I do.”

You nod, your expression dazed and faraway and when he leans in again, you press your mouth to his in a soft kiss.

Dick smiles against you, rewarding you by slanting his mouth more firmly against yours. This time he lets the kiss linger, letting you feel his warmth, the careful way he parts his lips to guide you how to breathe through it.

When you mimic him, he hums low in his throat, the noise vibrating against your lips.

“Good girl,” he whispers, barely pulling back, his voice rough with approval. “You’re doing so good for me.”

Your lips turn up, a shy smile gracing your face as you shiver slightly. “Thank you,” you mumble out, like you’re embarrassed.

Dick has manipulated you into kissing him and you’re thanking him. He’s so giddy he could burst.

Instead he settles for kissing you again, even deeper as his hands slide down to your hips where they lightly squeeze. The action makes you gasp softly against the kiss and he uses it, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip.

You stiffen, unsure and he immediately soothes you, hand against the side of your thigh. Your nerves are so cute. Almost as cute as the strawberry lipgloss that he’s tasting, which he knows is your favourite.

“Open up for me, baby,” he murmurs, voice dripping with patience. “Just a little. Let me in.”

You part your lips, all hesitant and sweet and Dick rewards you immediately by slipping his tongue in your mouth. You melt against him some more and he takes it as a sign to go further until he’s licking into your mouth, kissing you like he’s trying to eat you alive.

He’s borderline devouring you, getting hungrier when he feels you start to move with him, gasping into his mouth and making soft, pleased noises.

Dick can feel how overwhelmed you already are when you helplessly reach out to grab the fabric of his t-shirt, clutching him like a lifeline. He needs more.

Pulling back far enough to speak, he tries to control his own breathing. It’s just so hard when he’s this excited. “When a guy really likes a girl…” he says lowly. “He won’t wanna stop at just kissing. You wanna make sure you’re ready for all of that?”

You stiffen for a second and Dick decides to change his tune, gently kissing your forehead like he always does and begins to shift back a little.

“I mean, we don’t have to,” he relents, trying to sound as flippant as he possibly can when his hard on is painfully straining against his jeans. He begins to slide his hands away from your body as though he’s unaffected. As though his jaw isn’t clenched from the restraint of not touching you. “We can stop.”

“No!” Your hands shoot out to hold his own in place where they grip your waist and your eyes don’t leave his mouth for a second. Your’e panting softly, lips swollen and bitten — courtesy of Dick — and your eyes are glassy. “I— we don’t have to stop… I want to keep going. Please.”

Who is he to deny you when you ask so sweetly?

“Whatever you want,” he agrees, voice calm as ever. But his blood is hot and he’s trying so hard not to rip off your clothes and fuck you into the mattress until your bed is broken in half. All in good time, he tells himself as he guides you further back. “Lie down for me?”

You rest your head against your pillows obediently and Dick runs his hands up your sides, slowly and teasingly. “I’m going to take off your shirt now.”

Nodding, you lift up your arms when he begins to peel away your oversized t-shirt, shrugging it over your head to toss it to the ground. Dick’s eyes don’t leave your chest and it’s like he’s a man possessed when he immediately leans down to drop kisses to your neck and down your chest, grazing the swell of your breasts.

“So, so pretty,” he mumbles against your skin, his hands sliding behind your back to fumble with your bra clasp. You don’t stiffen this time and he takes it as permission to unclasp it before sliding your straps down your arms and leaning back to stare at you. “Fuck…”

You shrink under his gaze, trying to place your hands over your chest when he doesn’t move, and the action snaps him out of it.

“Don’t cover up,” he instructs, impatiently brushing your hands away before looking directly into your eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

A little laugh leaves you, like you don’t believe him and he decides it’s high time to convince you. Ducking his head down, Dick immediately swipes his tongue across your hardened nipple and you hiss, hand flying up to muffle your gasps as he starts to suck. Everywhere. He’s biting and licking at your chest, purposely leaving marks. If you try and do this with anyone else, they’ll know he was here first with all the blossoming bruises he’s sucking onto your skin.

Your gasps are coming out too quietly for his liking.

“No, don’t cover your mouth,” he says firmly, circling your wrists with his much larger hands to guide them away and pin them to your sides. “Guys like it when you’re noisy.”

Translation: Dick wants to hear you scream.

He returns his mouth to your body, this time venturing lower as he peppers kisses to your stomach. Lower and lower until he’s at the waistband of your shorts. He kisses around your belly button, nipping at your skin to distract you from your nerves as he slides the shorts down your legs.

You’re not even protesting anymore. In fact, you’re eager as you kick the item of clothing off your body. Dick huffs out a laugh against your belly when he sees your pink cherry-print panties. He recognises them from all the times he’s rifled through your underwear draw — it’s his favourite pair.

“Stop laughing,” you say breathlessly as you playfully tug on a strand of Dick’s hair. “It’s laundry day.”

“No, it’s cute,” he says, completely serious as you roll your eyes. The attitude you give him makes him want to fuck it out of you and so he swipes his thumb across the centre of your panties, right where your clit is, pulling a breathless sound from you. “So, so cute.”

You’re already soaked through the pink and red fabric, your wetness forming a damp spot visible through your panties and he grins. Shit, he’s barely touched you.

Dick props up your legs for better access and tugs at your panties, sliding them down to your ankles and then he groans.

He sounds like you’ve just sucker-punched him and before you have the time to process it, Dick sinks a finger into you easily and without any friction.

You’re so wet that it slides right in and the sounds that leave your lips make Dick’s mouth water. You’re gasping on choked breaths as he moves in and out of you, dragging his digit against your walls.

“So responsive,” he exhales, keeping a slow pace as not to overwhelm you. It only lasts a second though, as he can’t help wondering what other noises he can get out of you. His other hand comes up to start circling at your clit and your hand flys up to grab at his inky black locks.

“Oh, sh…shit. Dick, oh my God,” you whimper as the double stimulation makes your body twitch. You’re so consumed by pleasure that you probably don’t realise how hard you’re pulling on his hair — it’s a good thing he likes it. “Oh, please…”

He thinks he could die right now, hearing you beg him. For what, you don’t sound sure, but he obliges you with something. That something being a second finger which slides in almost as easily as the first.

The whine that leaves you is music to his ears and he pumps his fingers in and out, stretching you open in preparation. “Good?”

His question is teasing, since he can tell from the way your eyes are screwed shut that you do think it’s good. You nod nonetheless, whimpering out a “Yeah, so good. S-so good, Dick.”

Dick hums, increasing his pace absentmindedly as his erection brushes against your sheets. He’s practically humping your duvet, it’s pathetic. But he can’t bring himself to feel shameful about it when you’re looking so fucked out before him and he’s barely even done anything.

Fuck, he’s nearly drooling and so he decides the only thing to do is remove his hand from your clit. Your eyes flutter open at the loss of contact, despite his fingers still moving inside of you.

“Wait, what are you— Nngh.”

Dick flattens his tongue against your cunt and drags it up over your clit. You cry out, tangling your fingers further in his hair and keeping his head between your legs. Not that you need to when he’s eating you out like a man starved.

His tongue is moving against you like you’re his last meal while his fingers curl upwards into your pussy, making your eyes prick with tears. The second he starts sucking at your clit, you arch off the bed and helplessly grind against his face, covering his chin in your slick.

Dick moans into your cunt, pulling away a little to ask you in between licks. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

When he doesn’t hear an answer, his fingers pause in their movements and he lifts his head up to look at you.

“I— I don’t know,” you whisper, breathing heavily. “I’ve never… y’know, I haven’t—”

You’ve never had an orgasm

It feels like Dick’s luckiest day alive, he thinks to himself and he can’t help the wicked grin that splits across his face. His slides his fingers out of you, making you whine and his grin widens as he climbs over you, swiping a hand over his mouth before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he says soothingly, starting to pepper kisses over your cheek and jaw. “We still have more practicing. You’re going to cum on my cock for the first time, okay?”

“Okay.” Your response is almost immediate and he huffs out a laugh at how willing you are now. Any hesitation has since left you and Dick doesn’t have to convince you to do anything.

Not when you’re tugging at his shirt to take it off, which he happily obliges, reaching behind his back with one hand to shrug it over his head.

You exhale shakily, reaching out tentatively to trail your fingers over the sculpted lines of his chest, the hard ridges of muscle and the soft scattering of dark hair trailing down to disappear into his jeans.

“You’re beautiful too,” you say under your breath with a shy smile and he lets out a broken laugh, rough and shaky, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss at your pulse point.

He’s going to absolutely ruin you.

When your hand drags down his abdomen and further down to his waistband, Dick shudders — a harsh tremor wracking through his body.

“Fuck,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. “Take off my jeans.”

Your fingers fumble to unbutton them and before he knows it, he’s tugging them off and you’re looking down at his cock straining impossibly hard against his boxers.

Dick doesn’t need to instruct you this time, and you’re hastily undressing him, allowing his achingly hard cock to spring free. You let out a breath at the sight of him, his leaking tip practically sore from neglect.

Your hands come up to hesitantly wrap around him, dragging his precum down his length to better stroke him. You do it painfully slow and he hisses through gritted teeth, jerking his hips into your hand which is so, so tiny compared to him.

“Am I doing this right?”

Your quizzical voice nearly makes him buckle, and he decides he’s had enough of not being inside of you.

“You’re perfect,” he promises, sliding a hand up the expanse of your thigh to squeeze your ass. “You’re more than perfect, but if you keep going, I’m going to cum all over your hand and that’s not what we’re practising today.”

You give him a sheepish smile, removing your warm hand and letting it rest by your side while he hovers over you.

Dick glances over your naked frame and nearly sighs aloud at the sight, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Are you ready?”

“Ready,” you say, nodding at him to continue.

Dick brings his length to your cunt and drags it up and down once to cover the tip in your slick, marvelling at the natural lubricant. He’s not going to need anything else to slip right in and when your body twitches at the feeling of his head dragging against your clit, he smirks.

And then he slips the tip right into you, slowly working you through the delicious burn as you gasp. In the back of his mind, he’s a little bit concerned that you haven’t bothered to ask him to wear a condom (not that he was going to — he knows exactly what birth control you’re on, it’s fine), but your compliance is so naive. He’s glad it’s just for him.

“Ohhh, fuck. You’re doing so well, you can take it,” he grunts out, trying to go further in as slow as possible. His hands are clenched around your sheets as he slowly pushes and pushes deeper into you. “You were made for this, weren’t you? Huh? You gonna take all of me?”

“Yes, please, please, please,” you mutter, voice hoarse and nearly inaudible.

“Please what?” Dick stills, not moving another inch as he freezes halfway inside of you. “What do you want me to do, baby? Use your words.”

“Dick,” you rasp out, trying to buck your hips up for more, but Dick grabs your waist and pins you down. You can’t move an inch when he does this. “Please, please, I want more!”

He leans down to chuckle in your ear before he buries himself into you, sinking all the way down to the hilt.

He only gives you a few seconds to adjust before he’s pulling out and slamming back into you. The cry that leaves you is so beautiful and Dick wants to hear it again and again and so, all of a sudden, he’s driving his hips right into you with a desperation.

His cock is stretching you out more than his fingers ever could and you’re so wonderfully tight that Dick can feel every last inch of your velvety walls wrapped around him, sucking him in like something vicious and needy.

You’re practically incoherent now, the whimpers that leave you are basically sobs as Dick fucks into you hard and fast.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he grits out, sweaty curls falling into his eyes as he doesn’t falter in his thrusts. He leans down to press his body against yours as he continues to pound your hot, weeping cunt. “You’re a fucking natural, you know that? You don’t need the practice, you’re perfect. He doesn’t even deserve you. Fuck, he doesn’t deserve to look at you, let alone fuck you.”

Dick’s control and flippant attitude is slipping as he mumbles the words against your skin, but what else can you expect when you’re scraping your nails down his back and pressing your tits against his chest? He doesn’t even care about fucking you under the guise of practice anymore and instead he’s whispering cruelly into your ear.

“You’re so fucking gone for my cock, I bet you can’t even remember his name,” he chuckles against the shell of your ear and you let out another sob, shaking your head frantically. “What is it, baby? What’s his name?”

“I don’t…” you trail off, jaw going slack and eyes rolling back into your head when Dick lifts up your leg to position it over his shoulder, hitting a brand new angle that makes your whole body tense and writhe. He repeats the question and you whine, arching your back even more as you clutch his bicep. “Fuck! I— I don’t know, oh my God, I don’t remember. Oh, Dick, please, it’s so good! You’re so fucking good, I can’t—”

Dick smirks into your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he pants. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

He leans back and brings your other leg over his other shoulder to drive his length into you impossibly deep and you scream his name so loudly that there’s no way your neighbours could miss it.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours are so obscene in the otherwise quiet of your bedroom that he wishes he could record it to listen to the audio later. He makes a mental note for next time.

As soon as Dick feels your cunt begin to clench around him, he knows you’re close and fuck if he isn’t too. Sweat is coating his back and he feels out of control — you don’t look any better as there are tears of pleasure running down your cheeks, your tits bouncing with every thrust, the sheen of sweat over them catching in the light.

Fuck, he groans out a guttural noise as he picks up the pace to piston into you like a fucking machine. Reaching over in between your legs, he starts to rub quick circles into your clit with his thumb, leaning down to spit on it.

He watches with awe as his thumb rubs his spit into your cunt and the more he circles your clit, the harder he slams into you. Soon, you’re coming so hard that your body trembles with a high pitched whine and your nails are drawing blood down Dick’s back.

The way your cunt is clutching his cock through your orgasm makes him follow quickly and he’s as much of a wreck as you are, burying his face in your neck and sliding his arms under you to pull you close to him as his hips begin to falter. Before he knows it, Dick is shooting hot ropes of cum all over your walls with a choked groan.

It feels never ending, the way you’re milking him for all he’s worth and he decides he never wants to separate from you, keeping himself buried inside of you as he collapses onto you.

He leans most of his weight on his arms beside you, but he’s close enough to feel your racing heartbeat against his chest as you catch your breath.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart,” he pants, one of his hands coming over to rest on your belly where he traces his fingers. “So fucking good…”

Your lips curve up into a smile and although it’s tired, he can tell you’re pleased.

He presses soft kisses into your temple, still buried deep inside of you. Your legs stay wrapped around him and your arms encircle his broadness in a bear hug, not eager to let go any time soon.

Dick is such a good best friend, after all.

[everythingmp3]

can’t get enough

adult!Van x fem!reader

living with your girlfriend has many upsides: spending slow mornings together, sharing a sense of home, falling asleep in her arms, and the fact that shes there to offer you relief when youre feeling needier than usual, when you keep wanting more and she keeps giving in

authors note: I wont lie, this one came from me thinking about how certain phases of your cycle can make you feel crazy, so it’s heavier on the smut than usual, but there’s a decent amount of plot too, that’s why it’s around 9k! hope you enjoy <3

warnings: smut (reader receiving)

you couldn´t have asked for a better kind of Sunday.

you were blessed with beautiful early spring weather, Van´s was apartment flooded by golden afternoon light, which intensified the feeling of it being your safe haven. you´d spent the early hours of the day doing nothing but delight in each other´s presence, savoring all those hours of freedom and ease.

even though you´d been dating her for nearly seven months by that point, you were in a new kind of honeymoon phase, since you had moved into her apartment only about a month before, which made it one of the first weekends of you living together as a couple. 

up until that point, it had been nothing but lovely, all of the little anxious thoughts that had gotten to you during the moving process - like the fear that you´d start getting on each other´s nerves or lose some of that intense spark you´d felt before - proving to be completely unwarranted because if anything you only fell more deeply in love when you finally got to see the other person during moments where they felt unwatched, like when Van hummed a song to herself while making coffee, or when you took a nap on the couch in her clothes and she almost melted on the spot when she walked in on it. 

none of it was truly surprising considering how lovestruck you both still felt even half a year into your relationship, just as passionate as that night you´d first kissed like you were scared that you´d just dreamed each other up, clinging on for dear life. 

one of the things that Van did for you before you moved in, was that she´d put a little desk in her bedroom for you to use whenever you had assignments to write and needed to be by yourself, in a separate space, in order not to get distracted by her presence nearby. 

that Sunday afternoon, you had an essay to finish, so you were seated at the desk, staring outside of the bedroom window, unable to concentrate, unable to write as much as a single word, silently losing your mind due to one pressing issue: you were horny out of your mind.

it was the kind of horniness that simply would not subside, for hours and hours, that could get you worked up just from a simple thought, that could wreck you just from a minute of fantasizing, so you found yourself almost shaking with need, breathing unevenly, acutely aware that jerking off would not relieve you of the craving that was eating you from the inside out. 

moving in together naturally meant that you and Van started having sex more than before, it was inevitable with all that access to each other that you followed your instincts whenever they took a hold of you, no matter what time of day or what you were both supposed to be doing instead, it was exciting to share that new domestic kind of sexuality, for Van especially, since few things turned her on more than being pursued and corned by you. sharing a living space with you gave her that tingling sense of anticipation, the thrill of not knowing when she might feel your hand slide under her shirt, your breath on her neck, your wordless way of saying “give into me��, which she did, every time, often just waiting to surrender, to go pliant under your touch, to do whatever you wanted. 

you fell into a comfortable rhythm, which usually stayed somewhat the same, except for the days where you truly couldn´t keep your hands of each other and fucking turned into an all-day thing, round after round after round while abandoning whatever it was that you´d told yourself you would get done that day, not a care in the world about anything but devouring each other only to starve again within no time, barely giving your bodies time to recover, leaving you entirely spent by nightfall, but happily so. 

that day was one of those days, especially on your part. it started right after you woke up. it took you about a minute of laying next to her and watching her stir until you started feeling her up, kissing her neck, pushing her shirt up to feel her chest, which turned into a lazy, sensual hour of touching and eventually getting each other off, her hand staying between your thighs until you stopped whining for more. after breakfast, you snuggled up on the couch, which turned into kissing, which turned into making out, a proper heavy-breathing, sloppy, borderline dry-humping make-out session, the kind that she never allowed herself with previous lovers, addicted to every part of it, the way you caressed her hair, the way you grabbed her jaw whenever you needed to deepen the kiss, the way you´d sometimes pull back to kiss her face in a rush of affection before returning your lips to hers, every part of it, so that morning you made out for ages until you caved again and fucked on the couch for a while, laying there breathless and swollen-lipped for a decent amount of time afterwards, enjoying the luxury of having a morning all to yourself, to do whatever you pleased, or rather, whoever you pleased. a few hours of being outside, eating lunch, and getting things done around the apartment passed, until it was around 4pm and Van offered to give you head when she sensed how riled up you still were, really taking her time with it, drawing it out until you were unsure how much more you could take, which ended in you riding her face until you had to tap out, ruined by the sight of her beautiful smile as she laid there with her mouth open, glistening in the sunlight, licking her lips like she hadn´t just gotten smothered by that taste.

in moments like that she was almost in shock about just how deep your need for her seemed to be able to run, seemingly no amount of her touch enough to make you wish she´d stop. she knew in her heart that she could´ve insisted on having you again and again and again that day without meeting any kind of hesitancy, and the thought alone made her feel high on adoration for you, the way you´d come into her life and suddenly made her feel so desirable again, after years of feeling like a shell of herself, empty, unappealing. 

as you were sitting at your desk, haunted by the fresh memory of her devoted touch, your skin still burning where her fingertips had dug in to hold you in place, you told yourself to leave her alone and get to work, but nothing helped, you were a mess, so around fifteen minutes after you´d left her alone in the living room with the words “okay, I´m gonna go get this thing done” you admitted defeat and walked back out into the living space, too desperate for more of her to spend another second away from her. 

Van was sitting on the couch, reading her book, blissfully unaware of the hunger her girlfriend was eyeing her with. you took a second just to watch her from where you were standing, her freshly washed hair glowing like flames in a way that made you want to bury your nose in it and take the deepest breath, the way you often did at night when you were the big spoon. 

eventually, you got over yourself and quietly walked over to her. at first, she didn´t react, so you flopped down next to her on the couch and watched her from the side as she pretended not to notice, her eyes still cast down, her smile giving away that she wasn´t reading at all, that she was just waiting for you to say something, to admit why you were not doing what you were supposed to, but after a moment she dropped her book and turned her body to face you directly with a fond, amused expression, almost like a parent who´d caught their child staying up way past bedtime. 

“yes, can I help you, darling?” she said, her tone overly sweet, clearly teasing you about your inability to stay away. “yes…” you answered, your tone quieter and huskier than intended, strained by your obvious pressing need, it was clear what you wanted, but she pretended not to notice, still messing with you a bit when she cocked her head and asked “you done with your essay already?”. 

you shook your head, “no, but it´s not due til tomorrow” it wasn´t a lie, but she was too clever to fall for it “well, we have plans tomorrow night, so, that´s no excuse”. you didn´t laugh, you were too riled up to have any humor, which was not the case too often, so seeing you sit there like that, pouting, made her reach out and caress your knee while laughing, “hey, you okay there?”. 

her touch was enough for you to lose all ability to restrain yourself, so you sighed “no, no not at all.. I need you so bad..” while climbing over and getting half on her lap to grab her neck, breathing against her face then, trying your best to persuade her, your body basically vibrating with need as she wrapped her arms around your back and felt you cling to her, which got a labored breath out of Van, the way your weight pressed down against her, the feeling of being climbed like that. she searched your eyes and said “again already? it´s barely been an hour”, she was clearly baiting you to flatter her a bit, but you were glad to do it, so you nodded and gave her a brief but heartfelt kiss “yeah I know…can´t help it…”. 

she could tell that you were genuinely already just as worked up as before, so she cooed “poor thing, you´re really going through it today, aren´t you?”, aware that the faux-mocking would only rile you up more, so she used the moment to her advantage and went in for the kill, kissing your neck while slipping her hands under your shirt, an undignified sound leaving you because the way she moved her lips all over your pulse-point didn´t alleviate you from your ache, it only deepened it, to a worrying degree, each wet kiss making you squirm and bite your lip in an effort to stay quiet while your nails dug into her skin, jerking forward on her lap, chasing friction.

you heard a quiet laugh as she felt you shiver all over and pulled away, whispering “so needy today..”, no malice to her words at all, just her usual way of using foreplay to seem composed, because the second you actually got down to it, she could never pretend to be anything but weak in the knees for you, a slave to your every wish, so you let it slide, her momentary cockiness, only nodding, unable to deny that you were in fact the picture of neediness right then. 

Van pulled back and looked at you, holding your face in her hands, gently, stroking your cheeks “I should tell you to get back to your work, you know” she mused. you both knew that there was no world in which she could ever deny you, but even just the thought of stopping right then made a wave of terror wash over you, so you said “no” a bit sharper than intended, “no?” she echoed, grinning, moving her hands from your face to your shoulders.

“please just.. I don´t need much baby, I´ll be quick, please, only a few minutes” you were out of your mind, usually you wouldn´t have bargained for sex with her, you would´ve made a joke or been more playful about it, but you were sucked up in such a vortex of desire that you couldn´t speak or think the way you normally would, which made Van feel a kind of power that wasn´t unpleasant, still, she wasn´t one to be sadistic, so she dropped the teasing “hm, well I think I can do better than just a few minutes”. 

“yeah?” you asked with bright eyes, but it wasn´t a surprise, Van was not the type for quick aggressive sex, rushed attempts at getting off, she was a romantic at heart, especially in bed, so the most satisfying intimacy for her was the kind both you and her could savor, draw out, drown out time and space with, so she gestured for you to get up and grabbed your hand to lead you back to the bedroom, endeared by the way your eyes seemed to sparkle at her suggestion, “yes, come on, let me see what I can do for you”. as you let her tug you forward you felt anticipatory relief from what was about to happen, and a rush of heat from her formal way of phrasing it, as if she was talking about a business offer, not you, getting ruined by her.

you were only wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt without a bra, so within seconds you were undressed, unwilling to play it cool or act coy, your underwear already discarded on the floor when Van was still peeling off her flannel and her jeans, leaving her in her underwear and a thin white tank top as she crawled up on the bed where you´d already found your place. 

Van was about to get between your legs but you beckoned her closer“wait no, come here”, eager to kiss her, so she smiled and obliged, letting you pull her into a deep and hungry kiss, melting into it for a second, a pleased groan when you kept going and going, lavishing her with the kind of kisses that one might give a lover after having missed them for weeks, when it had been just an hour since you´d last made out. she seemed surprised, judging by the moan stuck in her throat, but it was nothing new, no amount of time spent with her seemed to ever make you feel like you had gotten enough of her lips, the softness, the warmth, the way she tasted, but after a while you grew too hot and separated, panting, nodding as if to say “okay, now you can get down there”, which she did, gladly, kissing a line all the way from the hollow of your throat to your lower stomach, working you up even more, which made you brace yourself on your elbows to watch her, breathing heavy, parting your legs wider to give her space, to invite her, impatient, a sudden throbbing sensation where you where dying to feel the heat of her mouth once more.

Van looked up at you and let out a quiet, vaguely pitying “ohh baby” when she saw how helpless you looked, how you couldn´t even smile because you were so sick with desire, which made her feel equal parts protective and possessive, an acute sense of “only I get to see her like this, nobody else”. it stirred something deep within her, so she leaned in and kissed your inner thigh feverishly, licked over it, bit down ever so lightly, marked her territory before she moved up and reached out to drag her fingers over your cunt to part you, a high-pitched whimper from you as she took a moment to appreciate how wet you´d already gotten for her. after a moment of playing with you, she leaned in and kissed the outside area, slowly dipped her tongue between your folds, met by that taste she could never tire of, a moan from her that matched yours as you laid back and felt her start to move her tongue up and down in long, self-indulgent strokes, over and over, gripping your thighs and getting her face all up in you, the way she always did, clearly never waiting for your approval or praise but just enjoying herself so deeply that it was a given you were too, heavily making out with your cunt, lewd sounds that almost drowned out the whimpers you couldn´t keep in. 

after a while of unravelling you, she focused only on your clit, relentlessly, applying just enough pressure to satisfy, while making you whine for more, faint, muffled “hmm” sounds coming from her as the tip of her tongue flicked over you again and again, a rhythm that you matched by rocking your hips up to meet her mouth, which only made her go harder. 

when she really loved someone, the way she loved you, she found a place of worship between her lovers legs, poured all of her feelings into the act of giving head, which was why you were addicted, the same way she was, both of you oftentimes taking turns multiple times in one night until your jaws hurt. in that moment, it was no different, you were all hers, moaning and sighing praises as she kept going, your hands finding their way into her hair as you lifted your upper body a bit to be able to watch, lovingly caressing the back of her head as you looked down at her and felt a tightening ache at your core, your breathing even more rapid from the sight of her eating, the divine perversity of it, a sharp breath in when she let her gaze flicker up at you and held eye-contact for a moment while you kept her trapped, your legs close to her ears, and felt her reach up to hold your hands, squeezing them in reassurance, until she could feel that you were getting close and freed her right hand again, moving her mouth away for a second, panting, chin slick with you, so she could see what she was doing as she slipped two of her fingers into you, an instant sigh of relief as you felt her inside of you, so you moaned “yeah like that..” and laid back again, fully surrendered. 

she took the cue and went to finish you off by curling her fingers up in you, hitting the spot she knew so well by then over and over, while attaching her mouth back onto you and hearing the familiar sound of your pleading and cursing, your hands clutching the sheets, your mind blank, your walls clenching around her fingers as she didn´t let up one bit and sucked on your clit until you couldn´t hold out any longer and came all over her fingers, her free hand gripping your thigh to keep you from closing your legs as she kept going all throughout your climax until your muscles finally relaxed and you let out a deep shuddering sigh, shaking, high on the orgasm in a way that left you needing more, much more. one wouldn´t be enough, even while you were still recovering from the intense release, your body was already calling for the same thing again, a tremor taking you over that would not subside, Van could tell, so she caressed you and kissed your leg to catch a small break, before she pushed her messed up hair out of her face, which made you move your head to see it and marvel at her, the beauty of her in that moment, her face all flushed, her lips raw and red, a glow that made her look like she´d just come as well, which knowing her, perhaps she had, it had happened before, that she´d finished just from pleasing you. 

“.. you´re so pretty…” you sighed, still breathless, which made her grin and move up to kiss you, softly, a faint residue of your taste hitting you, her face so hot that it radiated onto yours, both of you ready to push it further, to look even more wrecked by the end. 

you needed more, badly, the throbbing wouldn´t go away, nothing would help, so you felt the urge to take her strap. you didn´t do it too often, it was something you reserved for when either or both of you wanted to be fucked so badly that fingers wouldn´t suffice anymore, which wasn´t every time, but right then, you were in that state, and a shared look between you was enough to communicate, you didn´t even have to ask, but still, she made sure, “need a bit more than that, don´t you?”, so you nodded “yeah.. please”, and the return of your begging was enough to make her need it as well, to see you get what you were craving, to watch you come again, but harder than before, it was ringing in her ears then, the memory of how you´d sounded the last time she´d fucked you that way. 

before she got up from the bed, she moved your hand between your legs and smiled devilishly as she whispered “go on, touch yourself a bit, feel how wet you are” a pause before she added “how ready” the last word said in a low tone that made you choke up on your own spit almost because it was unlike her, to speak like that, and it was clear she said it half-jokingly, as if she was putting on a different voice than her own, but still, it thrilled you, to have her insinuate that your body was just waiting for her to invade it, which it was, had been all day. 

you used your fingers to apply just enough pressure to keep yourself worked up as you watched her red rid of her remaining clothes, unwilling to deny herself the feeling of being flush against her lover, her back turned to you, your gaze lingering on her legs, the soft, delicate nature of them that contrasted her tough exterior, a point of obsession for you, since only you got to see her legs fully in the nude. it was a ritual for you to kiss her calves, her knees, her thighs, whenever you´d just finished giving her head and used the time she needed to recover to cover her lower half in kisses.

it was no different in that moment, you felt a rush of heat go to your face when you saw the contrast of the black of the harness and the paleness of her skin, some of her flesh spilling out over the straps, a sudden urge to bite into it, a shiver down your spine when you saw the aggressive hand movement of her making sure everything was truly tight enough, sitting right over her hips, around her sides, a whimpering sound as you touched yourself a bit harder then, unable to restrain yourself, which made her flip her hair back over her shoulders in a slightly cocky way as she come back to you and watched you shamelessly stare at her with that same helpless expression as before, moving over to make space for her. 

Van knew what you wanted, so she sat down next to you and patted her lap, conscious of the fact that having you on top first was ideal, not just selfishly because she wanted to get a good show, but because it gave you the freedom to tire yourself out, before being finished off by her afterwards. so, you got up and shook a little as you climbed over her and felt her hands on your sides, to steady you, both your eyes and hers cast down, watching you take the strap in your hand to guide it into yourself, carefully, which wasn´t necessary, you arousal so intense that there was no resistance whatsoever, your cunt drenched and throbbing as you sat down, feeling yourself be stretched and filled, your eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming relief, the sensation so good that you kept still for a moment to soak it up, while moving your legs to a comfortable position, one you could last in, a “hmmm” sound escaping you, which made Van smile as she tenderly caressed your back and sighed “there you go baby, that´s better, hm”. 

it turned you on to know that Van felt like it was actually her cock you were taking, so you started moving with her help, her hands travelling down to guide you a bit, deeply turned on by the fragility you exuded in that moment, the trust you placed in her, the way you put yourself in her hands in your most vulnerable state, drunk on the whimpers you let out while rocking back and forth on it, feeling the strap deep inside, your walls clenched, slicking it up as you picked up a rhythm, trembling because it had been a while since you´d taken it like that, so violently turned on that you were sick with the need to come, hard, chasing the all consuming high with blind need, the kind that doesn´t happen fast, that takes time to build up to, and Van could tell you were overly eager, at risk of rushing it, so she tried to bring you back to the present moment, to enjoy the feeling of pained pleasure, the submission to that pre-orgasm ache, so she cooed “you´re okay, shhh, easy, nice and slow, let me take my time with you” and pulled your face closer to kiss your cheek. 

you leaned forward in response and held onto her neck as you felt more secure and found a good angle, breathed against her face and heard her whispering sweet nothings to you as your clit brushed up against her in a way that made you moan louder again, your lips brushing up against her cheek, a shiver down her spine. you weren´t bouncing on it the way you might have if you hadn´t fucked all day, you were too weak for it, but you had enough energy to manage a bit of that motion, moving up and down a few inches, again and again, your juices leaking down the strap, her arms firm around your back as you kept whining and riding her, turned on by your own motion, the romantic yet pornographic feel of it, the feeling that you were performing for her, your cunt sucking the strap up easily over and over, a neverending feeling of “more, more, more” as you went a bit faster and felt a rush of confidence that made you lean back and brace yourself with your palms flat against the sheets, to show of your chest and tilt your head up to the ceiling, which allowed Van the perfect view of not just your body but the way the silicone disappeared in you, your arousal milky white against the black of the toy, her mouth open in hunger, her chest flushed pink in response, her whole body. 

you could hear her whisper “jesus.. look at you..” under her breath as she palmed your tits and watched you ride yourself into oblivion, your moans more pathetic than before, her thumbs brushing over your nipples to hear you wince in pleasure, her hands reverently moving all the way down your stomach, until they rested right above where you were getting fucked, fucking yourself, both, that thrill of being on top, the double feeling of she´s doing it to me, I´m doing it to myself.

Van was the type of lover who often preferred to use her hands and mouth on you, it was what she craved most days, the filth of having you drip all over her lips and fingers, the sensuality of it, but whenever you did end up wanting to get strapped by her, she enjoyed every little thing about it, rediscovered her eagerness to see you take more than what she could naturally fuck you with. it drove her wild, to see the way you gave in and opened yourself up, you could hear it from her heavy breathing, felt in the way her hands grabbed you wherever she could reach, worshipful, her own composure crumbling by the second, both of you letting out little curses and groans. 

eventually you needed support, so you leaned all the way forward and braced yourself against the headboard with both hands, which made your tits eyes level with her, so Van lost no time and held you in place and started sucking on your right breast, hard enough to make my cry out, the double arousal making you see stars as she closed her lips around your nipple and refused to let go, addicted to the soft feel of it, her teeth digging in for a second as you tried your best to keep up your rhythm, panting, needing release so badly that you were scared of losing your stamina, but you pushed through the intensity of being fucked and sucked on, until you whined “baby I can´t, I´m so.. fuck” unable to find the words, so Van let moved her hands to your waist and held on firmly. “I´ve got you, just keep your hands right there” she reassured you, so you did as she said, braced yourself, slowed down, allowing her to take over, which she did, thrusting up into you from below in a way that made it clear she wanted to see you come, soon, so you surrendered to the fast, deep strokes and heard the slapping sounds of your skin meeting, over and over, as you couldn´t do anything but let out moans that were matched by hers, as if she was also being fucked, both of you gone by then, high-pitched cries falling from your lips until you felt like you might cry from how hard she was hitting the right spot deep inside, so you groaned “fuck fuck I can´t I´m gonna-” choking up on the last word and shuddering just as it all crashed over you, hard, overwhelming, your entire body shaking as she kept going but eased up a bit, your orgasm ripping through you, leaving you spent and breathless on top of her, your hands on her shoulders then as she caressed you, soothed you through the aftershocks, waited for you to ride it out, patient, her own breathing ragged and laced with faint whimpering sounds. 

once you felt the tremors subside a bit, you climbed off her and let out a sigh from the sudden emptiness where you were still raw, still sensitive, her hands never leaving you as you followed your urge to suck her off and licked over the side of the strap all the way up until you reached the tip, briefly taking it in your mouth, tasting yourself, drooling on it, her hand in your hair as she let out an “oh…” sound of disbelief, a shiver taking hold of her from the unexpected thrill of seeing you do that, for a second almost forgetting that it wasn´t part of her, a phantom feeling of actually having her dick sucked by you leaving her a mess then as you wiped your mouth and tried to get your bearings. 

you laid down next to her, riled up the max, the ache from before less pressing but still there, so you looked at her and whispered “please..”, which you didn´t have to say twice. Van got up and moved to kneel before you, saying “lay back and relax for me”, as she reached out to gently put a flat pillow below your hips, creating a better angle, making sure you were comfortable before she smiled down at you and saw an exhausted but happy smile being directed back at her, her heart melting at the sight, her own wetness almost matching yours by that point, so she got to it and held one of your legs up in a way that opened you wider, teasing for a second by just moving the tip over your outside area, slicking it up, until she heard an impatient “baby…” and gave in, pushing herself all the way in with one swift motion as she leaned over you, a deep groan leaving you as you were filled again, your hands on her back then, nails scratching down as she placed her hands by your head and kissed your face, your cheek, ever so softly, a maddening contrast to the deep, slow strokes she was giving you, your legs wrapped around her waist to keep her as close as possible, your chest pressed against hers, your heartbeats close, so close, a feeling of melting into one as she almost hugged you while fucking you, groaning from the effort, a deeply intimate feel to it that made every movement of her inside of you feel even more intense. 

“fuck..” you whined, her breath hot against your face as she sighed “feels good?”, “yeah so good…I love you.. so much” it just spilled out, you couldn´t contain it, the adoration for her that was threatening to tear you apart, crying from it it almost, so she moved her face to stare down at you, her beautiful flushed face, her pink lips, the glowing waves of her hair, all of it adding to your feeling of “god I am so in love with her” as she stared you with the same exact feeling written all over her face and sighed “I love you too..” right as she hit a spot in you that made the words burn not just in your heart but your cunt, body and soul ablaze with the way she was handling you, the way she used sex like that for intense passion, not aggression or dominance over you, her motions never too hard, always just the right amount of pressure - for a second you both just breathed into each other´s open mouths while listening to the “huh” sound that left you with each thrust, Van fixated on how much she adored the way getting it from her always turned you so docile and lamb-like, in awe of it all, her lips brushing yours, a deep intimacy to it, both of you staring into each other´s souls until you caved and started making out, desperately, your hands on her neck as you opened your mouth and felt your tongue against hers, in heaven then, bursting with how good it felt to have her on you, in you, while kissing like that - you couldn´t get enough of the bliss of being wrapped up in her presence like that, her perfume and and shampoo and natural musk hitting you where you were weakest, every part of you claimed by her intoxicating physicality, the same for her as she tasted and smelled and felt you, both of you refusing to let go even when you struggled to continue from how heavy your moans were getting in the way. 

eventually she changed her position a bit to have more control and grabbed your legs right under your knees to push your thighs back a bit, up towards your face, to go even deeper, which made you let out a borderline pained “ohh fuck..”, Van mesmerized by the sight of the strap moving in and out of you, using her stabile position to really fuck you, giving you a moment of just being pounded, so you rested against the pillows and took it, scared that you´d come already but holding it together to have an even more rewarding release, breathing through it, until she slowed down again, aware that switching between different speeds was what always got you, not immediate release but gradual building up to it with small setbacks until she gave it to you for good, it drove you crazy in the best way. she leaned back over you and kept your legs up with her arms and leaned down to lick over your chest, animal-like, as if she was trying to devour you, tasting your sweat, your hot skin, her hair spilling over you  as she sucked on the flesh of your tits erratically and used her hands to keep you open, both of you addicted to the filthy wet sounds that were filling the air, each move into you creating another maddening sound, the muscles in your lower stomach tight and ready to release again, your cunt overstimulated and leaking all over the strap and yourself, both of you addicted to the sensations, the primal nature of your actions, your sounds, the scent, everything about it. 

Van sounded just as pathetic as you then as she sighed “god..” and shut her eyes, as if she was praying for the strength to hold on, so you gripped her shoulders and pleaded “baby please.. I can´t” as you felt the intensity challenge what you were capable of handling, but she insisted, encouraged “it´s okay, you can take it baby, just a bit more, you´re doing so well” so you listened and took a deep breath, remembering how much better you came whenever you didn´t hold the air in, so you willed yourself to relax and saw her approve “that´s it” her face buried in the crook of your neck then, soothing you, “I´m right here, I´ve got you, I´ve got you”, your nails digging into her shoulder blades as you whimpered and got scared of your release, after all that build-up, so she commanded you “come for me baby, just let go, make a mess”, and somehow the last part got to you, your body eager to comply, so she kept you pinned down and didn´t change a thing about the pace and depth she was going at as she felt you come undone beneath her, kissing your face all throughout it, encouraging you “there you go” as you cried out and felt your whole body shudder and shake, sweat dripping down your forehead, spit collecting in your mouth, your legs tensed up, your body unravelling in the most deliciously violent way, no part of you unaffected by the climax, Van staying right where she was, still inside you, out of breath, obsessed, drinking in every sound, every sigh, every touch of your desperate hands, the way you clung to her in your moment of dying of pleasure and coming back to life anew.

you shared a frantic kiss and then her gaze was drawn to where a few tears had escaped you, without you even realizing, so she kissed them away too, tasting the salt, feeling you relax even more from her gentility, so she cupped your face in her hands and used her palms to infuse you with all the soothing touch you needed while recovering from the multiple highs you´d just been through. you shut your eyes and whispered “thank you..” but she didn´t want any gratitude, so she shushed you with another kiss, briefly rubbing your temples with her thumb, trying her best to burn that moment deep into her psyche, to keep it, forever. 

eventually she gave you some space and moved on the bed. “be right back” she promised as she got up and freed herself of the harness to put her clothes back on, before she cracked the window open and grabbed a tissue from the bedside table to wipe the sweat off your chest, the juices off your inner thighs, a few deliberate swipes here and there to clean you up a bit, to be of service not just during sex, but afterwards too. for a moment after she just stood there next to the bed and grinned as her gaze traveled all the way over you, the way you laid there, dazed, satisfied, glowing.“damn, what a view...” she marveled while appreciatively running her index finger all the way up your leg, so you smiled and twisted your body a bit to get into a more flattering position, “all yours” you whispered, meaning it, so she got back on the bed with you and pressed a kiss to your stomach “that´s right. all mine” the words spoken against your skin, her voice all raspy and deep, a tingle on your skin where her the breath of the word “mine” left its impact.

it took no time for her to want you close again, so she moved behind you on the bed and sat upright while you draped yourself half over her lap, her arms around your waist, both of you quiet as you melted against her and heard her sigh “my angel”, a quiet laugh from you considering how far from saintly you´d just behaved for her. “you´re a fucking dream, you know that?” she said, her voice clearer and louder then, her grip on you tightening, her chin resting on your shoulder, “you are..” you countered, while lacing your hand through hers and squeezing them.

“god. I needed that so bad…” you confessed, which made her smile to herself “you don´t say”.  there it was again, the teasing, her usual tone coming back, “but clearly I did too.. you drive me fucking crazy”. you nuzzled up closer to her and felt her grip on you tighten a bit as you said “I always want you, of course, but on days like today…” you paused to sigh and shake your head “I´m not joking I could just go on and on, I feel insane” your hand wrapped around her wrist then, your cheek resting against her upper arm, her heart swelling from the sight. she laughed at your way of phrasing that “well, don´t ever hold back for my sake, please, I might tease you about it but don´t think I don´t love it when you get like this. it´s hot.” 

“yeah?” you asked, just to hear a bit more, already aware that she definitely meant it, so she indulged you “of course, I mean I´d have to be beyond ungrateful to complain about my situation here, having a hot girl want me over and over, that´s about as close to heaven as I´m allowed to get in this life I think” she laid it on thick, so you turned your head to look at her with a questioning but undeniably pleased look, Van grinned, standing by her statement, and leaned down to kiss your forehead, her lips lingering long enough to hear something close to a purr from you. 

“you know” you said, playing with a strand of her hair as she leaned back again and caressed you absentmindedly “yeah?” she asked, her tone soft and patient, so you went on,“you might not be the first person I´ve ever been with” a fake gasp of shock from her in response to that,“but!” you insisted, laughing at her dramatics “it still feels like you are because it´s so intense when you´re in love, which is very much a first for me. it´s just so much better like this. I mean clearly it´s addictive to me..” alluding to your never-ending hunger for her that matched hers for you, the kind that made homebodies instead of a couple who spent entire weekends outdoors. 

Van nodded and thought for a second before she added to your thought “yeah I mean I wasn´t exactly inexperienced when we met but this is definitely very new to me as well, to actually need someone and feel like touch can be.. healing” she said the last word quietly, as if she was a bit embarrassed about being so earnest, but you squeezed her hand to encourage her to go on. “forgot what that felt like. this might sound corny but I don´t care, it honestly feels like my body came alive again with you. you changed everything for me. everything, I swear.” she sounded like she might choke up, so you moved out of her arms to face her directly and put your hands at the back of her head, your fingers tangled in her hair, scratching gently. “so did you..” you told her and leaned in to kiss her nose, that part of her face you felt so tenderly for, the way it scrunched up whenever she really smiled, a few soft kisses that instantly made her weak again. 

“did I wear you out?” you asked after you pulled back, straddling her lap by then, the sight of you completely nude on her clothed body a sight that stirred something deep within her as she cocked her head and ran her fingertips up and down your spine. “your concern for the elderly is very touching, really, but I can keep up. for now. besides, I´m the one who should be asking you that, you´re the one who took it”. she squeezed your hip for emphasis, which caused an involuntary motion from you that made you rub up against her thigh in a way that almost got you going again, but you held back, still, she saw it, the flicker of need behind your eyes, unsure how she got lucky enough to have someone so wrapped around her finger. 

“I´m a bit sore, but I kinda like that, so I´m good” you mused and watched her eyelids lower the way they always did when she was suspicious. “you like being sore?” she asked, unsure if you were trying to rile her up or being for real, but you insisted “when it´s your doing, yes” whispering it lasciviously, so she played along “oh really?” her own voice dripping in sensuality then, “yeah, I remember the morning after I first slept here, I was so giddy all the way home when I felt my muscles aching.” 

“damn” Van laughed, “you´re something else, girl” you shrugged and settled back in her arms, laying down again, sprawled out over her. “but I agree, I also like when you leave your impact on me” Van admitted, her masochistic nature not a secret to you, so you took her arm and playfully bit down enough to leave some faint teeth marks, which made her wince but more from pleasure than pain, her smile audible when she said “yeah, something like that” and hoped that the indents would actually stay for at least an hour or so, already hoping you´d bruise her inner thigh the next time you gave her head.

for about ten minutes you continued to lay there, eyes closed, breathing in unison, a deep relaxation settling over you in that moment of precious, quiet intimacy. 

before either of you could fall asleep, Van tapped you on the shoulder and said “so. is there any point in me leaving the bed and telling you to get to work now, or are you just gonna come crawling all over me again in ten minutes?”. you sat upright then and went to go gather your clothes from the floor to get dressed again “I´ll try to restrain myself. I mean, you could also just tie my legs to the chair”. Van watched you from where she was still sitting and laughed “oh, don´t tempt me” 

“okay, so” she said as she also got up from the bed and went over to you, snaking her arms around your waist “how about you finish your work while I cook us something nice, then after dinner we could go get some fresh air and then get back to bed later. how does that sound”, you smiled, nodding “perfect”. 

before she could leave you shared one last thought “you know you´re the first..” you were searching for the right word “lover” you said, which elicited a grin from her, “that I have ever lived with and I can´t imagine it going better than how it is right now. I feel so at peace here, like I´m home, for real”. Van´s expression softened “I know, I´ve shed some tears about it, trust me, I feel very lucky”.

you wrapped your arms around each other and breathed in each other´s scent one last time and then begrudgingly separated, a groan from you as you sat back down at the desk, so she turned around and said “alright, in and hour I wanna see at least 500 words progress, are we clear? don´t ruin your academic career because you´re too busy throwing yourself at me”. 

you whipped your head around and found her leaning against the doorframe, clearly satisfied with herself, a hint of pride in her demeanor that suited her “you calling me a whore?” you joked, watching her smile get even wider as she countered “I´d never”. she blew you a kiss, half-teasing, half-earnest, and left you to it, uttering “good luck” as she closed the door behind herself. 

miraculously you actually managed to put your head down and push through the last few pages of your assignment without taking breaks or distracting yourself or letting thoughts of Van get a hold of you too heavily, so after about an hour and fifteen minutes of sitting there and typing away, you emerged from the bedroom and joined her in the kitchen where she was putting the finishing touches on a nice pasta dish she´d cooked up. you wanted to be close to her, so instead of taking a seat, you stood there with her, picking up random things on the counter and putting them back down again to occupy your hands, so she said “trying to find a good space to bend over for me?”, not willing to let it go yet, that you´d been needy as hell all day, a smug grin as she kept her eyes on the plates she was preparing while you scoffed  “you wish”, pretending to be offended, a little turned on from the mental image.

after you both got some energy back into your system from the pasta and some ice-cold soda, you decided to go out and enjoy the beauty of the golden hour, the sky empty save for a few clouds here and there, the breeze just mild enough to allow you to leave your jackets, but fresh enough to make you link your arms in order to be cozy.

after an hour of wandering around in the park and stocking up on sweets for later on, you went back home and both a had a shower, she first, then you, and right as you freed yourself of your clothes to wash yourself, you saw that you´d bled into your underwear a little, confirming what she´d alluded to earlier, that your sex-drive had been intensified by your impending period. she´d said it off-handedly that morning in bed, that she remembered you bleeding one morning after you´d begged her to keep going and going all night, but you´d brushed it off, certain that you weren´t getting it until at least a week later, but it had in fact come a bit early that month and it made you emotional in a way, to know that she paid such close attention to your body, to your moods, everything. 

Van was waiting for you in her sleeping clothes on the couch when you walked over and said “well you were right earlier, I got it now..”, so she perked up, immediately alert, always concerned about any pain you might be in, “fuck I´m sorry, does it hurt?”. “a bit yeah, but not as bad as usual, you can take credit I think, relaxed my muscles” you smiled as you approached the couch and carefully sat down, your hands on your stomach.

Van grabbed your knee, searching your eyes from up close “still, do you need a pain killer?” and you considered her offer just a second too long before answering, so she cut you off and decided for you “yes you do”. she rushed over to the cabinet to get some pills and a glass of water and brought them back once you´d obediently swallowed them.

“come here” she said once she sat back down and opened her arms, so you laid on top of her, your back against her chest in a way that allowed her to caress your abdomen, ever so gently, trying to alleviate you from any tension that might´ve been causing discomfort. 

“comfortable?” she inquired as she felt you go slack and breathe out “yeah very. you´re so warm” you hummed while resting your hand above hers, “and you´re so beautiful..” she answered quietly, her eyes fixed on the space where your sweatpants had been pushed down a little, your skin visible below her palm. you smiled when you heard the reverence in her tone, moved by it, so you shifted your position a little and gave her a kiss before you rested your head on her shoulder, by the crook of her neck, suddenly emotional over her way of caring for you as if it was second nature to her. 

“oh you´re killing me today baby” she sighed and held you close, unsure how to handle the feeling of having you curl up on her like that, your body so pliant and open under her touch. “I haven’t gotten used to it yet, that I get to be held like this all the time now..” you told her. she agreed, “yeah me neither. and it´s been like a month of you living here but I still have these moments where I wake up at night and see you there next to me, or when I come up the stairs and you´re already there and I didn´t expect it and feel such a rush. the same way I did when I first met you.” 

you smiled and clung to her “god I´m so glad I have you…” your eyes getting heavy, hers too, “my baby” she whispered and let you drift off. before you could fall asleep, you mumbled “love you.. ”, her voice just as fragile “love you too..”. 

both of you were too relaxed and content to move and got to bed already, so instead she pulled blanket from the couch over you and let you stay on top of her, keeping you warm and safe as you both dozed off to the feeling of each other´s chest rising and falling pressed against your own, heart to heart.

as your consciousness became hazy, you found yourself in a state of almost prayer-like, deep gratitude for Van, the way she tended to you, body and soul, the way she could overwhelm you with pleasure, make you lose yourself in passion, but also soothe any ache or discomfort and still your being with the simplest gesture and touch.

a memory from earlier that day was the last thing you thought of, you heard it echoing in your head, what she´d said, and repeated it back to yourself, to affirm it, revel in the fact that no dream you were about to sink into could match the sweetness of your reality: I´m hers. all hers.  

[cripplecharacters]

What exactly defines a token character as a bad representation choice and not as a "background character" who happens to be disabled? And can a disabled character be the only disabled character but still good representation?

I know having relevant disabled characters is important, but when, besides the cast members who influence the plot, you have one of those scenes where a one-off character needs to be there, like when the autistic protagonist needs a ride in the middle of the road and a little person stops to help, or when the wheelchair user main character wants to talk to the magic council about a certain situation and the attendant is a blind person with a cane who checks the information of a braille book, is it safe from tokenism?

Hey!

For this post I will use "representation" to imply good/decent representation, not just the act of XYZ minority technically appearing on the page.

There's definitely a lot to discuss when it comes to tokenism, and there are a lot of different criteria that you can use to define what exactly it is.

So I'm gonna start with the main definition of what would differentiate a "token" from an unimportant character (=one that doesn't influence the actual plot) who just happens to be disabled: how you go about the fact that they are in your book(/comic/etc.).

If you put in the description of your work that it's "disability rep!" because there's this one guy in a wheelchair in one scene, that's tokenism: using a minority to simply boost/promote something as "diverse". That's the most annoying occurrence of it, there's so much media that people recommend as "XYZ rep" and when you look into it, the "rep" is a side character that shows up in two episodes and has like a line of dialogue. Sad!

To use one of your examples, tokenism would be if you claimed that your work has "dwarfism representation" in it because of that one guy who helps the main character in one scene. It's... just not that. That doesn't mean it's bad; if every single background character who wasn't a cisHet white abled Christian man (etc.) was supposed to be deep and thought-provoking then no one would be writing them, because that's not what a background character is supposed to be.

But - you could commit a tokenism with a character even if they are just a background extra who shows up once. Tokenism often goes with the fact that the token character could be swapped out for a non-minority one and nothing would change, since the key here is that the author doesn't really care: it's all just to say "hey, I got XYZ in my book!". So if you were to write a background character that you explicitly mention has disability X, but then they do something that a person with that disability wouldn't be able to do - that's probably a token (if not, it's still a badly made character). It's there to "represent" a group, but it doesn't make sense and there is no point so to speak because the author just doesn't care.

In that way, many disabled characters are just tokens - because the writer is writing an abled character, but keeps calling them disabled. When's the last time anyone has seen a character with albinism who was blind or low vision? What's up with all those deaf characters who read lips and speak orally so well that you literally forget they are even supposed to be deaf? Why is that "tragically unable to walk" character... walking for the entire duration of the book? They're just tokens done with no care nor research, it's all diversity points and quirky aesthetics. Everyone wants to be "inclusive", no one wants to actually have a disabled character who experiences disability.

Another thing with background characters is what role they serve. Most of them are fine - cashier has a skin condition, guy ordering a drink uses a speech generating device, mom of an annoying kid doesn't have a leg, cool. But sometimes it's worth to just ask "why am I making this specific character, whose disability has no impact on the story, disabled?". That is to say that if you need a prodigy piano player and your idea is to make them totally blind who always wears sunglasses, or to make the generic murderer have a big burn scar on half of their face, you're repeating a stereotype. "Role" also encompasses what happens to them. Does the one disabled guy just... die, and that's all? That's a token.

Those are the main things I'd avoid when it comes to background characters. Don't claim that they are what they aren't or represent what they don't, and if you want a disabled character - even just an extra - then either commit or just don't do it, and keep in mind where you're putting them in the first place.

Can a disabled character be the only disabled character but still good representation?

They sure can, but they just aren't, usually at least. The problem with single character representation is that it puts a big burden on this one character: to represent a whole community. That's a lot. I've found myself in this exact spot before: small cast, one character is disabled, and I try to make the whole thing better and more authentic... every single time the result was adding more disabled characters, even if their roles were smaller. It's about the potential contrast.

There are choices that you can do when you have multiple characters of X minority that you should probably avoid if there's just one of them. If I see a work that has three blind characters and one of them wears sunglasses, my reaction will be "oh, cool, they have photophobia like me". If there's one blind character, and they wear sunglasses, my assumption will be that that's what just the writer thinks all blind people wear.

(Even though, that singular character could 100% also be photophobic. My assumption here is based on my experience, because that's how it usually goes.)

In that case you can find yourself in a place where you either need to subvert a bunch of stereotypes (some of which are based in fact!) or address it in one way or another in your work. That character could say "oh, I wear sunglasses indoors because even artificial light really hurts my eyes", but in order to do that, you need to be aware that this is a writing trope in the first place. Not to mention, if you do it too much, it starts reading as some sort of disability PSA. There's a fine line to everything, and the fewer characters of a particular minority you have, the harder it is to navigate it in a way that feels natural to actually read.

Sometimes the occurrence of just a single disabled character also raises some questions. Where's everybody else at? There are some exceptions to that (e.g. stories with a very limited character count) but generally speaking, everyone knows someone who's disabled in one way or another, especially if they're disabled themself. Books tend to make disabled people seem as a rare phenomenon, but that's really not the case.

Sometimes it borders on nonsensical worldbuilding - all those disabled characters who only get their mobility aids/meds because they Know A Guy (or are that guy)... I always ask myself, "what about all those people who don't know this one specific guy? what about everyone who lived before and after this one specific guy?", and I don't think the authors ever consider that. Unless the world population count is in triple digits at most, your character won't be the only disabled person. Writing in a way that subconsciously implies that they are is to me just another form of tokenism, because they're not only the only disabled character in the story, they're also presumably the only one in that universe overall.

This is just a lot of paragraphs to say that you probably aren't ever fully safe from tokenism unless there are multiple disabled characters who have at least somewhat important roles in the story - and even then, they can still be badly written, just in different ways.

Sorry for the long post but I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[happysparklingshadows]

A Certain Hunger (8/?)

Chapter 7 ✿ Chapter 9

Summary: It is a never-ending night for the reader. She is in the eye of the storm of the drama going on in the wilderness, and fully succumbs to the sexual tension of it all. The adult reader is having a shattering night of confrontation and religious guilt.

Pairing: Surviving!Poly! Yellowjackets x reader (slow burn)

Warnings: HORNYYY, Wilderness Sexual tensions at an ALL TIME HIGH, Angst, manipulative reader, Making out, groping, readers being a little bit of a hoe, Weapionized religion (not from our girls don't worry), Alcohol/drug use, Homophobia, Gore, Tree Lady strikes again, Ghost Jackie, Heartbroken Jackie, Canon moved a little where Jackie reads the dairy before people leave instead of the night of, Thigh riding, almost fingering, and talks of mental illness.

Notes: Another headcanon chapter on the night before Taissa and the others leave to try to find rescue. I moved some canon events to make sense for the reader to know some infortmation but I think it makes sense! I love this show and I hope it gets renewed!

Word count: 16.3k UNEDITED

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‘96

“Javi, come over here.” You say as you sit on the porch alongside Mari and Laura Lee. We anxiously sewed another layer of fabric onto Javi’s and Travis’s socks. Natalie gave you some old shirts she found in the plane and some old, stained ones of the boys, but you and Laura Lee have been making as many clothes as possible.  Mari started sewing with the two of you this weekend to mend all the holes in her clothes, which made everyone go through their hole-ridden clothes and add it to her pile. 

The quiet boy comes over to you obediently and smiles. He looks on at your handiwork with awe. “Are they warmer now? What if I sweat too much?” 

You chuckle and shake your head, “Little dude, you can take your shoes off, you know. Just-”

“Just keep your feet dry, I know, (y/n).” Javi rolled his eyes playfully as he put the socks on his feet beside you. You shake your head as you feel for a moment like your father, who drilled it into you to keep your feet dry and always mend clothes to keep them dry, and now you become the one to drill those things into the others. 

Laura Lee says, keeping her eyes on her hands as she continues to thread, “Javi, you should give Travis his socks.” 

You smile as you feel her getting softly annoyed at the presence of the boy in her focused crafting. You say as you shoot a look to the pair behind you, “Yeah, here, you go, Javi.” 

Javi lingers around the three of you in silence as he holds the socks awkwardly until he puts them in his khaki shorts.

 “Aren’t you cold in those?” You ask him with a little smirk, pointing your needle at his pants.. 

“Yeah, don’t boys' balls shrivel up when they're cold?” Mari added with a snarky mock. She snorted at her joke. You roll your eyes as you cut the thread with Laura Lee’s small sewing kit scissors. 

Javi stutters for a moment, and you chuckle, “Ignore her, Javi. I don’t wanna hear about cold balls.” 

Javi laughs and quickly leaves, feeling overwhelmingly awkward in his own skin. You felt a soft spot for the youngest among you because he was truly a gentle sweetheart. He felt like your little brother in moments like these, and you couldn’t fully understand how Travis was his older brother. 

The comfortable silence comes back to blanket over the three of you as you all sew and sew and sew. There was a quickness to each one of you, and you can recognize why. You all felt cold. You all knew what was creeping up on you. Mari was getting snarkier, Laura Lee had been quieter, and when she spoke, it was usually about the private plane or God. She even baptized Lottie last week. You've been hearing about this from Lottie lately, when you two find time. You were all feeling the buzzing dread hanging over your heads, but you could find comfort with the two friends beside you. 

“Oh, my God. Meat. Fuck yeah!” Van stood from her spot by the fireplace as she stared at Travis and Natalie lugging a shedding deer.  

Laura Lee snaps up with a praise, “Oh, thank you, Lord!” and walks over to the two carrying the animal with a skip in her step. Mari follows her lead with a big smile. The dread is forgotten at this moment. 

You couldn't help but smile as a growl from your stomach turned at your waist. You stand, “Good job, you guys!” 

You come over to Natalie and Travis with the crowd that was now circling them. “Whoa. That thing is gnarly.” Van stated as she looked at the meaty antlers on the buck. You say, “It’s shedding season for deer. It’s normal, don’t worry.” 

“It’s like Freddy Kruger and Bambi had a baby.” Akiliah mumbles as she comes closer to your side. She grabs your arm, almost like she is shielding herself from the antlers. You stand in front of her and smile at the touch; you don’t respond. Javi does the same on your other side, looking over your shoulder with a twist of disgust on his lip. “I’m not eating that, " he states. 

“Guys, relax.” As he comes closer to the group on his crutches, Coach Ben says, “Deer shed their antlers every season. (Y/n) is right; this is normal.” He looks over at the buck with interest. “Shauna, do the honors?” 

Shauna nodded her head as she slowly leaned down with her knife. She stabbed into the deer’s stomach and quickly, with disturbing ease, sliced up its navel. 

Immediately, a rotten smell fills the camp, permeating the air with a deathly scent. Maggots fell out from inside of the deer, as if it had been dead for weeks inside its own body; its organs were a dark browned red. The fur of the flesh looked greased with illness or hunger, and the smell sent a gag through you as you looked closer. 

“Oh-” You sigh as you cover your mouth and nose, trying to keep whatever was left in your hungry stomach down. “Jesus Christ.” 

The coach slowly comes closer in disbelief at what he's seeing. Natalie looked like she was going to burst out in tears at the maggots. Shauna grabs the maggots in confusion, and the bugs surround her hand and wriggle on her flesh. She shakes them off with disgust as she starts to gag. Shauna desperately grabs for a rag when you come to her with a rag on a seat around the fireplace, and you move your hand on her shoulder. You feel her swallowing her dry heaves. 

“Are you okay?” You ask quickly as Shauna rubs the brown blood off her hand. 

“Yeah.” She quickly shoots as she tries to slow her breathing. 

“Is that normal, too, Coach?” Jackie snarkily replies as she glares at the man, she was expecting this to happen. 

“I’m not crazy,” Lottie says to herself, behind you and beside Laura Lee now. You don’t turn back as you listen to the girls behind you. 

“No. You have a gift,” Laura Lee reassured. You glanced at them as she wrapped an arm around Lottie’s waist. 

“She’s right. You've seen this before.” You agree quietly to the other girls, with a sadness crashing against you. You wanted to sob as your lip quivered. Hopeless. 

Shauna’s pregnant. There is no food. There are no resources. You would never go home if you wait any longer because there hasn’t even been a sign of people trying to find you. No one was going to save you. Everyone was looking to you for guidance in the wilderness, but in this moment, you realize that you have given all you can give, and you can’t will the winter to stay put any longer. 

“We cannot keep fucking doing this, you guys,” Taissa stressed, pacing by the fire in an angry restlessness. A sob was ready to escape her lips. “What happens when winter gets here? We fucking starve to death or freeze?”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes without knowing they were forming. Taissa is saying all your worries and anxieties outloud, and you didn’t need to stop her. Javi, Akiliah, Mari, Jackie, and Laura Lee look to you as if expecting you to stop the pessimistic words, but you find yourself at a loss. You look on at Taissa in silent agreement. 

“We can’t count on getting rescued anymore.” Taissa agreed as she nodded her head, looking at everyone eyes as she continues, “All of us know that is not going to happen! We have to save us! That’s why I am going to get help. I’m leaving in the morning.” she states with emotions painting her every word, she storms to get inside of the cabin as she adds, “Come with me if you want to get out of this fucking hellhole.” 

You wipe the tear from your eye as you look to the others; you meet their scared eyes and feel so much pressure on your shoulders as you say, “Taissa is right. We need to try to just walk out of here. And we will send for help. We—” You stop yourself as you calm your words. You needed to be strong for everyone—for Shauna, the underclassmen, your friends, just all of them. “We need to work together to save ourselves. We can’t just sit down and let ourselves die; we haven’t so far, and we’re not going to now. I am going.” 

“No.” Jackie shuts down with a shake of her head, a deep frown on her lips. She crosses her arms and looks away as if you were betraying her. “Nope. Not happening.” 

“Are you going?” Javi asks quietly before Shauna speaks over him by accident. “(Y/n), you can’t go,” Shauna says as she stands up and holds your arm. She tries to pull you to look at her, but you can’t allow her to move you. 

“I am going.” You look at each of the girls’ eyes as you say, “I know the most about the forest, and it would be the smart move if I went with Taissa.”

“No, because what about us?” Jackie snaps as she moves her arms, looking at you with a frown that is exacerbated and stressed. “You’re just going to leave us in the dark? Who will make the announcements or tell us what we need to do? You just said it’s almost winter. What if we’re left here without you?” 

Jackie’s words stab into your heart and let you bleed as you stand tall for all the girls to listen. You feel the power shift that has never happened before with Jackie. Jackie sees you as her leader, not the other way around. You weren’t following her command or bending to her desires anymore. It felt scary. This wasn’t your childhood friendship anymore. This was something new and unexplored. 

You take a deep breath and evenly say, “I’ve given all I know to you all.” You look around at everyone's eyes, which are laced with worry and fear for themselves and you, and say, “I am not leaving you helpless. I know you all will be fine for the time being.”

“Jackie’s right, (Y/n), you can’t just leave, no one can do what you do.” Natalie butts in as she looks on at you with soft concerned eyes. 

“It's going to be okay because I leave it to you, Nat.” You say it evenly, as you look her in the eyes and communicate something you don’t know. You knew as soon as you saw Natalie that she was the only one out of the girls who was the best fit to be the stand-in leader while you were gone. She knew how to hunt, the lands around the cabin, and the importance of your projects. Her compassion and fairness only added to your reasoning, no matter the tension between you. “You have the most knowledge about wilderness survival besides me. Please make the announcements while I am gone.” 

Coach Ben, quiet as he looked to the ground in dissociation, added, “(Y/n), I understand you want to follow Tai, but in your condition, is it a good idea? You passed out in the woods for hours.” 

Natalie’s jaw dropped as her eyes widened, surprised that you gave her this responsibility after everything you went through together. You felt Shauna’s hand slip from your arm as she looked down, defeated. She scoffed and walked away from the circle. You tried to suppress your frustration at Shauna leaving, but you had to continue, “No one is stopping me, not even you, Coach,” you said, meeting Coach Ben's gaze. “I know you will handle things while I'm gone and that you will be safe. Safer than just waiting for some fucking miracle we all know isn’t going to happen.” 

You now notice the tears you had earlier are still falling down your cheeks, collecting on your chin, as you sniff back snot in your nose. You wipe your cheeks. “I don’t care if I am not going to be okay out there because you guys will be saved.” You choke back. You don’t want to look weak, but you want to be honest. “I would die for you guys.”

“No one is letting you die, (y/n),” Van says as she approaches you with a hand on your arm. Jackie comes forward and hugs you deeply, rubbing your back. 

“I don’t plan on it, but I plan on getting us saved.” You cry as the others look on with concern, and the others try to comfort you. You push them off lovingly as you try to sniffle back the tears, “I need to leave to get help, even if I will pass out. I’m sorry I’m crying so much. I don’t like the idea of being away from you all.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Van comforts you as she rubs your back. She looked like she was going to cry. 

“I have to go. There is no opinion. I need to at least try for you guys.” You confess as your voice returns to normal. “I can’t live with myself if I don’t try with Taissa tomorrow. I love you guys. I have grown to love everyone here… Even Travis.” You chuckle at the end as everyone laughs at the small joke. Travis has the biggest laugh. Everyone knows Travis gets on your nerves to high heaven, and he even eggs you on to yell at him or slap his chest. 

Everyone quiets as they wait for you to speak again, and you feel importance placed on your head like a crown. You breathe and say, “We'll head south for three days, and if we don’t see anything, we'll head back home.” You felt bile come up your throat as you called the cabin your home. But it was. “And then, we will plan for what is to come. And we will survive what we can.” 

The second morning announcement ends as you nod your head and are the first to leave the situation. You walk slowly away to the porch where you were before with your all-familiar dread hanging over you. You see Van run off inside the cabin, and Jackie walks to the meat shed to comfort Shauna.. You feel your hand tremble as you pick up the sock you are making. You take a slow, shaky breath in, starting back where you began with the soft fabric. 

“Yeah, um, you got a minute?” Natalie comes to you with her hands in her jean pockets. She is as nervous as the sky is blue. She doesn’t look inside your eyes when asked, “What do you mean I am doing the morning announcements? I am not good with people like you.” 

You look up at Natalie as you rest your hands, the sock, in your lap. You look at her for the first time in a few days, to be honest, and she looks very ashamed. You don’t know if you care to know what for, but you assumed it was because of how she treated you. As painful as it was for you to stop yourself from being petty or angry, you felt content and okay with what had happened at this moment. It doesn’t matter right now. 

“I know you can be cagey, but you’re not bad with people. You just have to listen to yourself and follow through with what you say. It’s not hard, you just kinda help with everything, and if you don’t know, you just let someone else shine.” You reason as you pick your sock back up to sew, “You’re not happy I picked you or something?” 

“No! No, I—” she blurts and looks you in the eyes for the first time. “I didn’t think you would pick me, is all.” 

“I didn’t either until you spoke, " you chuckle as you look back at the fabric. “But I know it’s the right decision. You are very compassionate when you want to be.” 

Natalie stands silently as she looks at you. Now, her hands are out of her pockets, and you see them shaking as she just stands there. She seems stunned by the ending of your sentence. 

“I don’t know why you’d think I wouldn’t pick you.” You say with a soft shake of your head, as you keep moving your fingers. 

“I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me again,” Natalie confessed as she looked back at the ground. She looked back at you, sighing, “I don’t know what I am doing.” 

“I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me again.” You retort with a raised eyebrow. You glance behind her shoulder to see if the others were in earshot; they were not.  “You gave me the cold shoulder for weeks after.” 

Natalie shrugged as she looked at you with almost pleading eyes, like she just wanted you to read her mind instead of her explaining. She says softly, “I didn’t know how to talk to you, I didn’t think you wanted to look me in the eyes again.” 

You rolled your eyes as you said, “Dramatic. I would never be like that, and you know that.” 

“Well, I never did anything like that before, okay.” She looks around herself, double-checking if anyone could hear. “I don’t even know what came over me and-and I feel like I ruined everything between us.” 

You pause for a moment as you think about her words. You don’t even want to unpack the meaning of.

You look at her and ask, “Are we still friends? I don’t want this to stop us from being friends, okay? I trust you, Natalie. Not with my heart but with my life, and that's good enough for me.” 

Natalie looked surprised again and a little lost, as if she thought you were more heartbroken than you were. “Yeah-Yeah, we’re still friends.”

You force a smile as you nod, “I am happy with that. No need for all these messy feelings right now, we can work those out later when we’re more ready, okay?” You say that as you look back at your sock, you felt your hands shake with nerves as you continued to thread the needle. 

“Okay,” Natalie says with a blank face and a shallow nod. She steps back and goes into the cabin. 

You let out a shaky sigh as you continue working to keep your mind off the dread for a moment.  

You sigh as you rub your clammy hands on your jeans and try to find the right words. You know Jackie’s not mad at you, because when you were sulking on the porch she sat next to you and told you that you should probably talk to Shauna because she is having a bitch fit. When you asked her why, she scoffed and said, “Do you need me to spell it out? You picked Natalie over her. Shauna is just as skilled as her; she is just not the hunter.” 

“She thinks I picked Natalie over her? It wasn’t like that-” 

Jackie shook her hand as she leaned on her elbows on the porch, “Don’t worry to much about it, it’s just a bitch fit. You know her. She’ll just sulk around for a bit and get better.” 

You sigh softly as your eyebrow raises in concern, a wrinkle forming on your brow as you put down the new sock you were making. You look down at your feet. “Is she really mad at me?” 

Jackie looks over to you with a soft smirk, she nudges your shoulder with her own, “You know, we can’t stay mad at you… Or, you know, you’ll cry like a baby like you did when we went to Clueless.” 

You gasped and hit her shoulder, “You and Shauna left me in Bath and Body Works! I don’t even remember what we were fighting about, but you left me!” 

“You were being a bitch.” Jackie giggled and shrugged her shoulders, as if she found it funny to remember you crying at the mall because you thought your friends hated you. “Hey! I sent Shauna to go get you!” 

“Still so mean!” You say playfully as you continue to beat on her shoulder, your lips curling. “Jackie you’re such a dick!” 

“I sent her to get you!” She giggled as she watched you stand up from the porch. You hand her your sock with the needle safely stabbed through the top, and you shake your head. 

“You’re so wrong, you still don’t see it.” You giggle as you wave away from her, “I’m going to talk to Shauna.” 

Jackie snorted as she moved the fabric away from herself. “Good luck!” 

You take a deep breath with each step towards the meat shed. You need to prepare for groveling for forgiveness, knowing you will have to do so with Shauna, given your years of friendship. When you round the cabin, you find Shauna cutting into an aged fish to pull out its spine, and she glances behind herself when you approach. 

“What are you doing here?” Shauna curtly asks as she continues to cut into the meat. She doesn’t even want to look at you. 

“Because I wanted to see you.” You say easily when you come beside her, looking at her handiwork and how clean it has become over the summer. 

“That shocks me.” 

“Why? I always want to see you, " you say softly as you look her over. She holds her composure, acting as if she's unbothered, and says nothing in response. You then look at her face harder, trying to have her look you in the eyes. You touch her shoulder softly to pull her attention. 

She dramatically slams the knife into the wooden log, you gasp at the sudden noise, and she snaps her body to face you. She says, “Why are you even here? Clearly, you find Natalie better than me.” 

You quickly reason, “I don’t think she’s better than you-”

“Then why did you pick her? I have been working my ass off and I do everything around here just like you, why Natalie fucking Scatorccio.” Shauna spat as her brown eye bore into yours as if she was holding herself back. Her hands curled into tight fists as she took breaths in like an enraged bull.

“I picked her, Shauna,” you say as you put your hands on Shauna’s arms and look into her eyes as softly as you can. “Because you are pregnant. I didn’t want to add to the endless list of stresses on you right now.” 

Shauna takes in your words, and her eyebrow furrows, offended. 

“Shauna, I don’t want something bad to happen. God forbid, if you had a miscarriage,” You stopped yourself as you moved a loose hair of hers behind her ear, you didn’t want to say it outloud. “I need to get us to safety so you can get an abortion in a clinic with a professional. Or have them if you want, but you need to have a professional, either way, Shauna. And I will be right there for you the whole time. I just can’t put more stress on your body than it already has.”

Shauna's eyes softened at the words as she let herself take your affection; she was melting from her cold rage. You added a lie: “I only picked Natalie because she was the second option. And I know that you will guide the others like you are now. Please, don’t think I didn’t want you as the leader or that I like Natalie more than you.”  

Shauna’s lip quirked softly as she looked to the ground, unconvinced but enjoying the praise. 

“Shauna, you're my best friend, I would always pick you. But, it’s not the right time.”  You concluded as she rested her hands on your shoulders in a loose hug, looking into her brown eyes with almost a plea to be believed. You chuckle, “If it makes you feel any better, Jackie was definitely never going to get picked.” 

Shauna laughed as she finally looked into your eyes, and she circled her arms around your waist. She pulls you into a hug and snuggles her nose into your neck. 

“Do you hate me still?” 

“Debating on it.” Shauna chuckled as she shook her head. She pulls away as she said, “You’re a dick still, but I still love you.” 

“Yay!” You cheer as you hug her from behind, making both of you laugh.  

After you and Shauna made up, Misty and Krystal came to you, telling you that everyone was going to bathe in the lake together and to go swimming for a bit. You both agree, knowing you both smell more than you can tell anymore, and head inside the cabin. 

You and Shauna talk about nothing as you enter the cabin. You see Jackie alone by the attic ladder, as if she were about to go looking for the two of you. 

You smile at her before she cuts in the conversation with her fists on her hips, “You’re finally going to tell me what the hell is going on.” Jackie says as she crosses her arms, her pout coming to her agitated face. 

You pause as you look at her with a quirked eyebrow, “What?”

Jackie shook her head, annoyed, “No, not you. Shauna. What are you hiding from me? From us? (Y/n), Do you know what Shauna is hiding?” 

You felt yourself almost vomit from anxiety inwardly as you kept your face surprised, “What are you talking about? Shauna?” You lie, you turn your face to look at Shauna. She looks at you softly as she looks down. She wasn’t mad that you lied because both of you knew Jackie would be even angrier if you had known before her. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Shauna asked. Jackie shook her head unconvinced as she pursed her lips, “Jackie, nothing is going on.” 

Jackie’s heart breaks silently as she nods her head, she bites her tongue, “Okay… Liar.” 

Shauna rolls her eyes as she turns to walk past Jackie, who hasn’t even looked at you, as she runs to the ladder to stop Shauna. “No! No. You do not get to…” Jackie pleads as she tries to lift the ladder over to the attic. “Oh, my god! Why are these so heavy?”  

You quietly lean in the doorway, concerned as you look on at Jackie's struggle, Shauna asks, “Are you done?” 

“No! I’m not done!” Jackie yells back. Her temper is boiling over as tears brim in her hazel eyes, “You’re obviously hiding something from me, and it’s making me feel crazy!” 

Shauna quiets as she crosses her arms slowly around her waist. You feel yourself looking at her with concern as you look back at Jackie. 

“Remember when your parents first separated and you told us your dad wasn’t around as much because he got a new job as the president at Hello Kitty?”  Jackie says as she talks with her hands, pointing a finger at Shauna. “That was more convincing than you’re being right now.” 

Jackie comes close to Shauna’s face as she glances towards you and back to Shauna, Jackie pleads with her eyes and her wavering voice, “Shauna, I’ve seen you sneaking around and whispering with Taissa. Not to mention you acting all distant and weird for weeks, so… Spill.” 

You look at Shauna as if you were expecting her to reveal something, as you try to calm your racing heart. Shauna just looks at Jackie with watery eyes and words dead in her throat. 

“Are you really going to keep something from us out here?” Jackie pressed, her eyes almost breaking, and her voice becoming small. “What did I do? When did you want to stop being my best friend?”

You felt yourself want to sob as your lip quivered with Jackie’s, fat tears spilling from your eyes at the pain your best friend has been feeling in silence for weeks. 

“I’m pregnant,”   Shauna confesses as she looks to the ground. You felt your eyes become buggy as you gasped at her truth. 

Jackie’s eyes widen and her jaw drops, “What?”

“Taissa figured it out when she caught me faking my period.”

“I mean…” Jackie says as she looks at you, and your face, stuck in a surprised expression, convinces her enough. “How—how did this happen?” 

Shauan looks away and rolls her eyes softly as she jokes, “Well, when a man and a woman-” 

“No!” Jackie scoffed, “I mean… You lost your virginity without telling me. W-with who?”

“Uh, Randy.” 

“Randy?” Jackie asked in disbelief. She said it as you asked Shauna, “Randy Walsh?” 

“Wow. Okay. Uh… okay.” Jackie accepts the reality given to her, “Virginity.” She chuckled as she felt hurt that Shauna didn’t tell her about losing it. Reminding you how angry she would be knowing about you, how shocked she would be to know it was Natalie fucking Scatorccio no less. 

Shauna, ashamed, looks away from Jackie to the ground as Jackie nods her head, “Randy. Baby. I have a lot of questions. I mean-” 

Jackie shut herself up to send a smile to Laura Lee, who came inside the cabin. You kept your eyes away from the scene to hide the tears. 

“Don’t worry.” Jackie reassured as she grabs Shauna’s hands and looks into her eyes compassionately, “We’re going to get through this together.” She whispers as she smiles at Shauna. She melts all the tension in the air as she pulls Shauna into a hug. 

You come into the hug like second nature as Jackie gently cups your cheek and wipes away your tears. “Jeez, (y/n)’s still such a crybaby.” 

Everyone giggles for a moment as the tensions ease for just a moment. 

The three of you found yourselves giggling and sitting on the forest floor, trying to have some privacy to talk about Shauna’s pregnancy. You weren’t talking about sex but about high school, rumors, and funny stories from parties and lunch table chatter that you couldn’t help but let yourself get consumed by. 

“Soo…” Jackie smiles as she sits, hugging her knees. She looks at Shauna, waiting for her to spill her guts. “Tell me everything.” 

“Yeah, Shauna, what was it like?” You asked as you looked on at the brunette. You push her shoulder playfully as you chuckle, “Was it any good?” 

You may have known about Shauna’s pregnancy and the father of the child, but it didn’t mean Shauna told you any more than she had to. She never talked about where it was or when, how it was, or if she liked it. You didn’t dare to ask until now, probably having been freed of holding the secret. 

Shauna shrugs her shoulders and looks down at a leaf that she was breaking, “I don’t know, uh… It was just this one time. It hurt a little. It only lasted, like, three minutes.’’

Jackie scoffs a laugh, “Oh, Randy.” She shook her head as she cringed at a thought, “Oh god, I can picture it now. Just- Like his little butt.” Jackie confessed as she pulled her hands out like she was cupping someone’s cheeks. Shauna laughs as she looks down. You laughed hard as you leaned against the log you all sat around, “Oh my god, not Randy ass!” You giggle. 

“How big was he?” You asked Shauna with a smirk. 

“I don’t know, uh,” Shauna says as she lets go of the leaf to use her hands as a measurement. She puts a space between them, around 4 inches, making everyone laugh more. 

“When did this happen?” Jackie asks, looking over at you and sharing a look of confusion. “How could I have possibly missed this?” 

“I have a life outside of you, you know.” Shauna retorts with a smile, teasing Jackie. 

Which only makes Jackie chuckle and she throws a hand towards you, “You missed it too, right, you didn’t know she wasn’t a virgin.” 

“Dude, I am just learning all of this with you.” You giggle at Jackie as the two of you look to Shauna, expecting her to say where. 

“Uh, it was the night of Mari’s birthday party. You and Jeff bailed early, remember?” Shauna says, Jackie’s eyes widen with realization as she nods her head, Shauna adds, “And then I had too much Malibu and Milk-”

“Ew.” You say quickly with a shake of your head to the drink, at the same time Jackie says over you, “I told you to stop drinking that. And mostly because it’s disgusting, not because I thought it would lead to the conception of you and Randy Walsh’s love child.”

Shauna softly nodded her head as she said, “Duly noted.” 

“Are you sure it was the night of Mari’s birthday party?” Jackie asked as her eyes looked away in thought, “Uh, ‘cause I could have sworn that was the night, I had to go back and give Randy a ride home ‘cause he puked in the pool.” 

You laughed as you looked at Jackie, taking her attention for a moment as you lie for Shauna, “Jackie, Randy seems like the person to fuck someone and then puke in a pool.”

Jackie and Shauna chuckled. You then say, “Where did you have it then, Shauna? The pool shed, the bathroom, Mari’s room-” You widen your eyes as a burst of laughter comes from your lips, “Tell me you didn’t on Mari’s bed!” 

Jackie rolls back her head in deep laughter, forgetting her train of thought as you planned, and Shauna looked like a deer in the headlights. She knows you are covering for her and helping her make a lie believable to tell. You both read each other's eyes in that moment, and you both knew what you said. We want to stay friends with Jackie; she doesn’t need to know the truth. 

“Um, it was in the bathroom. I thought I was going to puke because of the milk, and Randy followed me… I don’t know, it was so fast and I didn’t know what to do, so I thought if I just wiped, you know-” 

You cringe beside Jackie, “the jeez?” You say. 

“Yeah, I thought if I peed and wiped good, I wouldn’t get pregnant. And, well, we’re here now..” Shauna says as she looks away from both of you, you can tell she was telling the truth in some ways in this moment. You guess Jeff and Shauna fucked that night, and they did it right under both of your noses. It made you feel disgusted by Shauna, but you tried to push that thought away. “We were pretty drunk, I guess. So much for making it special, right?”  

“Right.” Jackie and you softly chuckle, unsure how to process the information. You looked over at Jackie, worried, when Shauna looked down. You told her that you were more worried about how she got pregnant. You felt yourself getting emotional again as you saw Jackie come to the same thought you had when you learned of it: fear. 

“What are we gonna do, Shauna?” She asks in a now solemn mood, not knowing how much the two of you have talked about this. Not knowing the nights of anxiously whispering plans if something went wrong, or nights of talking Shauna down from a panic attack, or not knowing you promised you would be the one to hold Shauna’s hand if she gave birth, definitely not knowing you were holding Shauna while trying to have an abortion. You felt your body shake with anxiety. 

You wanted to cry as you thought about all the lies piling up on Jackie and how betrayed she would be with you. You knew Jackie like the back of your hand; you've known her since kindergarten, and she will be hurt more by you hiding this secret than just having one. But Shauna would have been betrayed if you exposed her pregnancy or the fatherhood; she would never talk to you again. 

“Honestly? I have no fucking clue.” Shauna confessed as she was about to cry to Jackie, Jackie puckered her lips and hugged Shauna. You leaned forward and joined in the hug, just like you always did. 

“We’ll get through this together. Like always.” Jackie says as she rubs Shauna’s back. You nod your head as you try not to cry. 

“I’m going to get help. We’re going to be okay.” You promise Shauna as you rub her back just like Jackie. You just want to keep your best friends, and you want them to be best friends. You refuse for this loving friendship to end, even for rightful reasons. You know you’re an asshole for it, but you couldn’t help but foolishly cling to the idea that everything will work out if you’re all together. 

'21

You sit in your kitchen as a stylist circles you with a curler. Ashley, who was about 20ish, was kind enough as she styled your hair. Your publishing house requested that you give the book a "romantic" look because the panel will be livestreamed on a YouTube streaming service, as there are many talks about adapting romance novels into movies right now. You didn't want to pass up the chance to dress up and feel beautiful; you had done this before for your other novels. You sip your coffee as you scroll through your phone. Your publisher, Anderson, is on a call with you to prep for the panel, and Aimee, your assistant, has started sending out tweets from an iPad at the kitchen island.

The scene was a calm chaos and focused energy. You ask, "Okay, so just to ask again, is there a movie deal or what? Because I am hearing some things on Twitter-"

"Oh yeah, just be coy about it, act like you wouldn't be opposed, but you are open to doing one. Especially because you're the only explicitly queer author on the panel, I think it will give you an edge if their basing it on attention."

You smile as Ahsley walks in front of you as she starts to curl your bangs, "Okay, okay, I'll see you at the event. I already want a nap." You joke as you sip your coffee again.

Anderson chuckles on the other end of the phone as he says, "See you at 10, and I'll give you some cards."

You chuckle and say before you hang up, "Thank you."

Ashley smiles at you as she lifts a lock of hair in the air, "You're hair is so beautiful and healthy."

You smile at her again and feel some blush come to your cheeks, and it's been a while since someone complimented you like that, "Oh! Thank you!"

She nods as she continues to work on your hair; it smells of expensive perfume.

Aimee walks beside you with the iPad and asks as she presents a tweet, "Is this good?"

You glance over the post, and you nod your head, "Yes, good job."

Aimee smiles and pauses, putting a hand on your shoulder, "You doing okay? Nervous?"

You shake your head softly, not to disturb the stylist, "I'm doing okay. Nervous always before a panel, but I am not spiraling... yet."

Aimee laughs and rubs your shoulder before she leaves to go back to her chair, "Oh, by the way, happy late birthday. I was away on vacation, and you haven't called me since last April. I completely forgot to call."

You look at her again with a smile, you roll your eyes, "It's so okay, don't worry about it. I'm 43 now, it's not like I threw a birthday party."

Aimee gasps as she gets in the chair, "What? You're not ancient, you can still have a birthday party."

"I know, but I don't have any kids or a spouse, so I kind of just get cake with my dad and get a yummy dinner." You said with a smile, and Ashley paused as she finished the front of your hair. "Honestly, I have had way worse birthdays. I'm grateful for my quiet one. I love when people remember it, though, thank you, Aimee."

Ashley looks at you as she lifts the hair behind your head, gulps a little as she looks at the thick pink scar on your neck, "I don't mean to be rude, but what happened to your neck? I noticed you had scars on your scalp. Did you have a car crash?"

You pause as you glace behind, you felt like the wind as been sucked out of you, "Yeah, pretty much like that. I had a lot of surgeries for my neck."

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Aimee gets up to answer the door for you as you try to catch your breath. You say softly to Ashley, "Make sure it's covered. It's a little distracting."

"I'm sorry, I was only curious. Your hair is so thick it hides everything." She says as she keeps working on your hair. You want to peel your skin off as you feel her fingers run through your hair.

Aimee comes back into the room with a blooming smile, holding a huge, colorful bouquet and a jar of honey. The jar had a note attached with a purple string, and a thick piece of honeycomb was inside. "This was delivered for you! It's so sweet!" Aimee gushed as she placed the items in front of you on the table.

You blink for a moment as you shift in your chair. You felt a cold chill go down your spine as you grabbed the jar of honey. You pulled the note, as if it were the only thing that could soothe the itching in your soul.

Best blessings to your panel and for your good health, babe. Love 🖤

You blink slowly as you put the jar back on the table. You don't even look at the items. You lean back in your chair and drift away from the sounds of Aimee talking; you let Ashley finish her job on your hair. You didn't want to feel like this.

"Who was at the door?"

"Some handsome fellow with a purple outfit. I think he was just a deliverer. He didn't say anything when he handed them to me."

You didn't want to think about it too much. You just take the answer Aimee gives you. 

‘96

After everyone came back from the beach, they decided to forage for some food tonight in case people were leaving the next day. You agreed, as it was about 6, and all that everyone had to eat for dinner was two small gray fish, split between 18. Everyone teamed up to look in different areas. The river for berries, the forest by the plane for nuts, and the brook for Labrador Tea leaves and Mushrooms.  You decided to go to the brook for some quiet after your intense few hours.

Lottie smiles as she volunteers to come with you. She links her arm with yours while everyone else teams up on their own. Misty looked a little upset when Lottie spoke before her, but she went along with Mari and Akiliah to look for Nuts. Lottie smiles at you as the two of you walk towards the brook. She tells her about another vision or daydream, as she has for weeks now. 

Honestly, it was nice to talk about anything other than lulling dread or the needs of the others, just silly things like daydreams and dreams. 

She tells you she saw a tree that waved to her, and a bird flew out. She believes it means we will leave soon, as if the wilderness is saying goodbye. You tell her that you think that would be good, but the wilderness is more devious than that. 

“What do you mean? The wilderness has been kind to us so far.” 

“Yeah, because we have a cabin and it was the summer. We’re not going to think it is so kind in the winter, Lottie. I know I will be bitching the whole time because I didn’t pack for the cold.” 

Lottie chuckled and shook her head, “You need to have hope, the wilderness gives me hope. It’s providing for us while people are searching for us.” 

You nod your head in thought, becoming quiet as the wind blows in the leaves, making the leaves fall to the ground. “It could be the summer saying goodbye, you know.” 

Lottie nodded her head and said, “Maybe, but I have a good feeling about this one.” 

You stop as the crisp breeze blows over your face. It's cold and fresh, with a scent of pine. “You are right, though. We’ve done well so far because of how kind it has been. We haven’t even come across a bear or wolf yet, heard them, but they haven’t even come our way.” 

“Why’d you do that?” Lottie asks as she stares at you in wonder, scanning over your face. 

“What? The animals?” 

“No, why did you stop just now?” 

“Uh,” You say as you blink for a second, trying to understand her behavior, a little, “I wanted to hear the wilderness.” 

“What do you mean?” Lottie asks you as she hangs onto every word that comes from your lips, like it is something important. 

“I was talking badly about the wilderness, and I heard the breeze, and it made me think. I knew the wilderness heard me, so I listened to the wilderness. It hasn’t been all bad; it was like reminding me,” you explain, confused why Lottie needed you to explain, a pause, confused why she looked at you so intensely. 

“See?” She says as she points at you, stepping closer as she comes to your face, “You hear it, don’t you?” 

You step back as you let her come to you, you just look at her and nod. “Yeah, everyone hears the breeze.” 

Lottie chuckles as she comes up to your face, kissing your lips unexpectedly. You gasp into the kiss as she cups her hands around your neck, locking you inside the kiss. 

 You desperately try to pull away from breath, but Lottie surrounds your face to connect her lips. She was obsessed with the feeling. Electricity. 

”Lottie!” You gasp as you try to take a breath, and you feel your back pushed to the ground. You fell to the ground with a soft thud, and you looked up at Lottie as she hovered over you. She pants as she looks over at you with lust. 

You felt yourself take a deep breath as you were about to speak, but you felt yourself locked in her gaze. You felt tingling in your body and heat building within you as Lottie dropped to her knees towering over you, she asks, “You feel it, don’t you? How free it feels.” 

She rubs her hands over your shoulders as she takes a deep breath of you in, her eyes half closed. Lottie runs her hand down your shoulder to your breast, a moan leaves you without you realizing what you were doing,  as she rambles, “It feels good out here. No judgments or sins here. No one to tell us it’s wrong just to be and exist as God made us. Just love and want, need. I think that’s what it wants. Something greater than me or you. It wants us to be closer.” She snaps her head up and kisses you as her knee is between your legs, a gasp escapes your lips as you kiss her back.

You lean forward in hunger as your lips smack against hers; you want to taste her. You wanted to know what Lottie’s lips felt like and how it felt to be… desired? Lusted after? Wanted? Needed? It didn’t matter anymore. You just knew you wanted it. 

You moaned into Lottie’s lips as she snuggles her body closer into yours, her hands groping your breasts possessively as she kisses your lips. Her top teeth catch your lower lip as she kisses the fatty flesh with a smirk in her kiss, she pulls another soft groan into the air. 

She pulls away with dramatic pants as she growls lowly to you, “I want to hear all the sounds you make.” 

You pant as you scan your eyes over her face as you say, “Lottie, Touch me-”

A sudden snap of a branch made the pair of you scramble to straighten your clothes and hair; panic rushed through you as you saw a curl of blonde hair bounce closer to the two of you. Misty was walking down the same path, as she was looking at her shoes, you correct yourself as Misty snaps her head up, “Oh! I didn’t see you guys there- I wanted to help look around. Mari is such a drag.” She cheers and animates her face a bit too much for you to believe her. 

Lottie’s back was turned to both of you, and you could feel the anger steaming from her. As you came closer to Misty, you said, “Oh! Good! I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah, you are the best at finding things, Misty.” You say as you try not to let the blush on your cheeks, “You are the best at finding mushrooms; we haven’t had any luck so far.” 

Lottie turns and looks at neither of you, and she softly bumps into Misty. She states, “I’m getting lightheaded.” 

You just watch as Lottie leaves. Misty scoffs at the shoulder cheek as she looks at Lottie's retreating. You yell to Lottie’s form, “Not cool!” 

“Sorry, Misty, you didn’t deserve that; it’s not your fault we can’t find anything.” You say as you look at a defeated Misty. She almost starts to cry as she looks down at the dirt. 

“I-I’m sorry! I’m not wanted, I’m sorry!” Misty blurts as she starts to sob. You quickly rub her back as you feel yourself inwardly sigh. You reassure, “No, no, it’s okay! I want you here!” 

Misty shivers as she lets out soft, whimpering sobs. She leans into your body, landing on your chest. She says, “I don’t know why I’m so unlovable!” 

“Misty, stop, please don’t think that!” You pat her back as you try to hug her back, “You’re not unlovable!” 

“Why is everyone so mean to me? I haven’t done anything.” Misty cries as she wipes her eyes, calming down as you comfort her. Almost too quickly in your mind. 

“You’re just an easy target, you don’t fight back.” You say as you pull her from your body to look at her, “I don’t get bullied, and I am the fattest in our class, why don’t I get bullied? I fight back. It’s not your fault you're small or quiet, but you make it easy when you don’t hit them back with something to hurt their feelings.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, like, when Mari says something bitchy or anyone, you hit them back with, “At least my pussy doesn’t stink up the room.”” 

Misty scoffs a laugh as she hits your shoulder, “I can’t say that!” 

“Sure, you can. You just need to stand up for yourself, and I promise to make sure they're not on your back. You know, you can come and tell me anything, right?” 

Misty nods her head and smiles widely, “Thank you, and yes, I know I can come to you with anything.” 

Misty and you collected as many dried Labrador tea leaves from the almost dead bushes, and as many mushrooms as you could find. You and Misty talked and separated to scope the area more. You giggled as you asked, “Okay, so please be honest with me.”

Misty knelt on the ground as she picked up the small mushrooms that were used for Ben’s medicine. She told you they were called Honey Mushrooms and could be used for pain. You were looking for Chanterelles, which were, oddly enough, common in the woods you live in. “Okay, bestie, I’ll always be honest with you.” She smiles as she plucks the fungi from their root. 

“What is the deal with Coach Ben?” You asked as you looked around the roots of the trees around you. Trying to see any yellow or orange hues to clue you in to where the mushrooms would be. 

Misty blushes deep red as she pushes her glasses up in her signature way, and she shakes her head, “Nothing.” 

You giggled as you turned to look at her for a moment, you are acting like you have been friends with her for years in the moment of comfort, “Nothing? Sure, girl, spill.” 

Misty sighs as she tries to stop the smile from spreading to her lips. She hides her cheek for a moment as she stands up, “I-i don’t know. I know he wants me back, and I want him more than anything-”

“Whoa, easy killer!” You hold up your palm as you look at her in shock, “What do you mean you know he wants you back?” 

“He told me not to tell anyone, but,” She says as she looks at you like you were now in on her dirty secret, “He told me he liked me back but because he’s a teacher and I’m not 18 yet that we have to wait until we are rescued.” 

You look at her for a moment in shock as you think about whether this happened and if that was something Coach Ben would ever say to her. You couldn’t make yourself believe that Coach would say that to her unless it were to make her stop her advances. You blink slowly as you nod, “Okay… Okay. But you can’t be seriously going after a 28-year-old? He is such a loser if he was trying to be with a teenager, you know.” 

“I know, but he makes me feel special.” Misty smiles softly as she walks a little bit to kneel again to pick more mushrooms. “That’s why I’m getting these for him. I don’t want him to be in pain. I’m stocking everything before we leave tomorrow.” 

You turn to her in shock as you ask, “You’re coming with us tomorrow?” 

“I’m going with you. You’re my friend, and friends stick together.” Misty states as fact that she looks up to you and smiles. 

You smiled back as you felt your heart melt at how sincere she was about you being her friend and needing to make sure you two stuck together. You nodded as you could help but feel loved in this moment by Misty. 

After, the two of you walk back to the cabin in good spirits. You felt at ease with the drama going on around you after your needed distraction with Misty. Shauna’s baby and Jackie learning, your lying, the Natalie situation, and the growing situation with Lottie. 

As you are walking down the trail, both you and Misty discover a great find. On the oak tree's backside, off the trail, there were three huge Chicken of the Woods on it. The yellowish hue and smell of meat came from it, and you both happily giggled at the find. You and she help each other reach the bracket-like growth that was too high for both of you. You used a stick, and Misty caught the large bulb of the mushroom. It was enough that everyone with the berries and little dried fish would be full tonight for the first time in weeks. 

When you and Misty finally had the last mushroom harvested, you heard a sniffling from behind you. You turn yourself around and you see a small lantern in the distance, a soft sobbing going off in the background. You don’t even listen to the excited yapping of Misty as you try to piece together who was there. Something within you told you that you already knew. 

You take off your foraging bag and hand it to Misty. You say softly, “Bring it home, and I’ll be right back-”

“Where are you going?” Misty asks, a crinkle in her brow. She didn’t want you to leave yet. 

“I have to see what's going on over there, do you hear that?” You ask as you start heading towards the light, “I’ll be right behind you. I can’t wait to eat that!” 

Misty almost stands still as she watches you leave. She holds your bag in her fist as she turns in the direction you were heading. 

You march into the woods to the sounds of crying, which gets louder and louder as you get closer. You come to find yourself recognizing those cries. You knew who was crying. 

“Jackie?” You asked as you circled a tree that hid her from view; a low, sobbing sound was leading you to the back of the tree. Jackie, sitting against the tree, covers her mouth as she is sobbing into her palm, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, a red leather-bound journal lying on her lap. It was Shauna’s journal. 

“Jackie? What's wrong?” You ask as you come closer to Jackie, kneeling beside her and touching her shoulder. 

Jackie doesn’t speak as she weils into her palm as she leans forward into your arms. She is shivering and shaking, and she could stop her sobbing. You pull her into your arms as you rub her back, and you can’t help but know why she was crying. She knew Jeff was the father of Shauna’s baby. You don’t know if she knows you know, but you need to do whatever you can to save face. 

“Jackie, please-”

“I don’t wanna live anymore! I can’t keep going-” Jackie weils hysterically into your chest as she fists the fabric of your flannel, she sobs, “I don’t want to live anymore- why?!” 

You couldn’t help but feel tears come to your eyes at her words, at the helplessness and the heartbreak, “Don’t say that! Jackie, what is going on?” 

She sobbed harder as she covered her eyes with her shaking palm, her lips curled in an ugly cry. Jackie whimpers out, “Shauna-Shauna is lying to us.” 

“What?” 

“Shauna is a liar! I knew it! I fucking knew she was hiding more then she said!” She ranted as she became animated, she pulled her hands off her face to grab the journal, she pointed her finger as she sobbed, “Randy’s not the father! Jeff is!” 

You widen your eyes that she knows now, and she found out on her own in Shauna’s journal. You don’t know what Shauna said in it or what she said about you knowing, but you know in this moment, you need to keep the lie going. 

“What?!” 

“Yeah, as i guessed, she fucking lied to you too! You were asking about the Randy thing, and I remembered both her and Jeff-” She sobbed as she crumbled into her hands, “left for a while-oh god!” 

You pause as you remember. There was a moment when they were gone for a long time at Mari’s birthday party. When they changed into their swimsuits. Shauna left to go to Mari’s bedroom bathroom, and Jeff went to the basement. You and Jackie sat together and talked and talked, even swam, before the two of them came back. Now that I think about it, Shauna came in just a few minutes before Jeff. And he was quiet the whole night. You wanted to bag. She did it right under both of your noses and neither of you suspected a thing.  Shauna could have done that a million times under both of your noses without you noticing, because the two of you trusted Shauna with your whole hearts, and she used it to her advantage. In this moment, you know it isn’t about Jeff or even the cheating; it's the fact that it was Shauna, out of anyone. 

“No-”

“Yes, (y/n), Shauna fucked my boyfriend.” Jackie hissed as she slammed the journal closed, as she couldn’t stop the river of tears leaking out of her eyes. You blink a few times before you scooch closer to her and wrap your arms around her shivering form. 

“I don’t know what to do.” Jackie sobs into your shoulder as she clings onto your body, “I don’t want to live anymore.”

‘21

You giggle in your hand as the other women on the panel laugh at the joke, the author, Amanda Lister, answers, “I mean, who doesn’t want to have a man who is a supernatural fuckboy?” 

“I don’t.” You cut in on the mic, making the room roar with another wave of laughter. You snicker to yourself as you sip on your second coffee of the day. “I think the answer is who doesn’t want to be sucked on by a vampire.” 

You felt yourself sigh inwardly with relief at how smoothly the panel was going, the flow of the conversations, and the openness of the other women when they spoke about experiences that inspired their stories. It felt welcoming and kind for you in this moment, and you felt yourself being as much yourself as you can let. 

The line of fans was long at one point, but now it only had three people standing, with impatience on their faces, smiles on two, but the one in the middle looked flushed. You mentally noted the middle-aged stout woman, but you smiled at the young woman who now stood at the mic. 

“HI! I am Abby, and I am your biggest fan (Mother’s name) Taylor!” The young woman beams with a smile as she makes eye contact with you. She almost shakes as she asks,  “Do you have plans for making any movies based on your Mushroom Circle series? Also, the political lore and the fairy world were so well-developed and thought through. Was there any inspiration for your world of Earirdal? I love Mushroom Circle so much and it’s inspired me to write my own Fantasy novel!” 

You still have a hard time recognizing when someone uses your Pen name, your mother's name, and Jackie’s last name as your own sometimes. It makes you pause before you can fully process the words the fan said. 

You felt a bloom of warmth spread in your chest as a wide grin grew on your lips, “Thank you for the question! Um, I wouldn’t be against it, but I would need a lot of control to make sure they represent the fantasy of Earirdal. My main inspiration was Tolkien and, of course, Game of Thrones for the political underlying to every event.” You ranted as you rubbed your fingers together and you flipped your hair, your neck ached in the back of it, “I love your enithuaim! You’re so adorable, if you ever get published, send it my way!” 

Abby glowed with a blush as she nodded her head. She says into the mic before leaving, “Love you!”

“Love you too!” You call back to the fan with a big smile. The stout middle-aged red-faced woman comes to the mic, “I have a question for you too, (Mother’s name)!” 

You smile and nod to the woman, “Yes, ma'am?” 

“Okay, so, I wanted to ask if you had any influence in your real life on your stories?” The red-faced bullet-chested woman asked with no enthusiasm. She almost asked, as if she wanted to provoke you in some way, narrowing her eyes at you and crossing her arms, standing dominantly. “Blood Oath, Mushroom Circle, and Three Wishes?”

You pause for a moment and smile, you say, “Yes, and no. I would say I have been most inspired by my own romances throughout my life and, you know, fantasies.” 

“You said once you were inspired by your teenage years for your stories,” She asks into the mic, and it almost makes you feel cut off. You can tell from the looks on the people in the audience's faces that cringe at her boisterous voice, an almost collective tension building among the middle-aged women. You pause as you narrow your eyes. 

“I have?” You asked into the mic as you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. You now notice how the woman didn’t introduce herself, or how unkind she was. It felt like you were in trouble, but you didn’t know how or why. The other panelists were on the edge of their seats at the strange fan interaction. The three other women almost leaned forward to cut in and make the woman leave, but there wasn’t anything too offensive yet to make it acceptable. 

You were on edge as the woman bluntly stated,  “Didn’t you on Febuary 1998, did you a craniotomy, anterior cervical discectomy and fusion, and facial reconstruction? And, in your first panel for Blood Oath, you said you were heavily inspired to write your novel?”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach at the memory of your medical treatment in ‘98 and ‘99, you felt internally like you were going to cry, but you kept a flippant attitude, “Uh, What ma'am?” 

“In your first Q&A, you said your time in the hospital was your biggest inspiration.” She states with almost a drawl to it, you couldn’t place if she's drunk or too self-ratutious. 

“Oh, okay, well, I got the idea for a Lesbian Vampire story-”

“I’ll stop you right there-” 

“Miss, can you please let her speak?” Amanda Lister asks softly into the mic with almost scathing eyes. She was far from the woman on the microphone and how she was talking to her peer at this moment. “She has the right to answer her question.” 

You pause as you look at Amanda and at the woman on the microphone, “I came up with the idea in the hospital because I was there for two years.” 

“Well, no!” The woman snaps as she waves her arms out and points them to her flopping buxom chest, her mouth wide open as she demands, “You told me in 2011 that it’s because of your surgeries, and you have proven yourself an immoral person that wants to corrupt others with Satan!” 

“Are you completely insane? What in the fuck are you talking about?” Fiona Misture, the author on the other end of the table, snapped into the microphone as the host tried to get security to pull the lady away from it. 

You snapped back to the back of your chair in shock, you couldn’t help but gasp at her words out of nowhere, and in this moment, after all the adoring fans, it took you aback with feelings of being an outcast. It felt like the spotlight was solely on you, and the sound of your heartbeat in your neck started to cloud your hearing.“Uh-”

“Uh-” She mocked as she looked at you as she stabs daggers into you, her thin lip quivers, “For your second Blood Oath Novel, did you not write, 'A kiss is the start of cannibalism”? You weren’t inspired by your time as a Yellowjackets survivor as inspiration?” 

“How disgusting are you to bring up her trauma like that? She wrote a story about a Vampire and a girl dying of cancer?” Amanda Lister is defending you on your behalf, as she points to the woman. The crowd is now wild, with people yelling at the woman and calling out to the authors on the panel, “Shame on you!” 

“Shame on all of you! You are glorifized Pornstars! And, (Y/n) (L/n), Not (Mother’s name) Taylor, is a fucking cannibal and is trying currupt the youth of america! My daughter is now a lesbian because of your books, and you can’t stop it, can you? You ate your friends! YOUR A FUCKING CANNIBAL!” 

You're frozen in your seat as the crowd goes into chaos, the woman continuing with her rant. You felt completely at a loss as your worst fear came true, and you were confronted with the truth. 

“How fucking disgusting are you?” Fiona Misture yelled at the woman. 

A soft giggling behind your ear, you felt your ear flinch at the ghostly Jackie whisper to you, “Who would imagine that?” 

You felt a wind of anger come over you as you leaned back to speak to her as security came into the room, “I am not a cannibal. I explained my story during my recovery from my craniotomy, about the yellowjackets, with half my skull attached to my body-” 

“You were ordained a medical miracle! God saved you, and you still chose to be evil! You choose to spend homosexuality to the masses-” 

“Ma’am, I don’t know what you want me to say?” You snapped at the woman as your eyebrow raised as the others in the room completely came undone with anger, “I was gay, was I saved? I was gay during my time in the wilderness, and I was gay when I was a child. You’re saying god didn’t save me-” 

“You took your chance to be saved and wasted it on making this smut!” ‘The woman yells as the two thick men come up behind her and grab onto her shoulders to escort her out of the room. 

“Ma’am, I don’t need to defend myself because I’ve already explained 25 years ago what happened to me and my friends! I’ll be praying for you and keep you in my thoughts,” You say as you wrathfully take a breath in.  

The crowd cheered happily as the woman was being dragged away from the mic. The middle-aged woman struggled with the officers who were pulling her away from the room. Amenda Lister yells into the crowd, “Get that bitch out here! Karen!” 

The crowd then chants “Karen” to the woman as she is being pulled out of the room. People stand from their seats to get a glance at what is happening, and others cringe in their seats as they look at the panel table. The host calls out to settle the crowd, and the poor teenager who had been behind the woman now returns to her seat, pressured to silence herself so as not to cause more chaos. 

You wanted to sob as everything you thought was going to happen had now happened, but you kept a calm and nonchalant face as best you could, as there was a mocking giggling behind you. 

The distant sounds of people walking and talking at the convention could be heard echoing in the service's private bathroom. After the panel, people were praising you for remaining kind, even though you didn’t feel that way, and the other authors asked about the yellowjackets situation a few too many times. You ran away as soon as you could slip away from your fellow authors, feeling like you had ruined the event by simply being there and feeling like a failure. You sit on the toilet in the private bathroom with your hands covering your face as you heave sobs out of your gut.

No matter what you did, you couldn’t outrun your past. 

No matter how far or how much you did. You were always a yellowjacket. 

You were always a girl lost in the woods. 

You could hear your pitiable sobs and cringe at yourself. You hated yourself in this moment. Your phone vibrates violently yet again with another call from your publisher or your assistant, but you couldn’t bare to look at the phone. You know, there's a clip of you telling the woman off that's already going around BookTok and Twitter because of how hysterical the woman was and how calm you kept yourself. 

You were notified of at least 80 tweets before you put your phone on DO NOT DISTURB. You couldn’t pull yourself out of this hopeless spot, you couldn’t stop hearing Jackie’s voice lately, and hearing her earlier only added to your grief in this moment. 

You felt your phone vibrate again, and you growled in frustration. You girlishly whine as you pull your phone out of your purse. You see that you have missed a few calls from your publisher, but it was actually Natalie spamming you. 

Before you could answer it, she hung up again. She had called you four times now. She sends you a text before you can look away from your bright screen. 

Natalie: ANWSER THE DAMN PHONE You: I’m busy rn You: What? Natalie: We got the fucker. Meet me here at 10. Don’t be late. Natalie: We’re going to get this blackmailer even if we have to hunt for answers.  You: Got it 👍

Hunt

Hunt

Hunt

Your eyes lock onto the single word in the blue text box. You couldn’t help but feel a pale sweat collect on your forehead as you felt yourself almost be pushed inside your body like you were watching real life through glass. 

You weren’t here, were you?

You shouldn’t be here. 

You felt your eyes staring at your reflection through the black screen. You've seen your crazed face. You see the feral rage inside your tearful eyes as your hands shake with the intensity building inside of you. You could hear your heartbeat in your eardrums. 

You slowly move your gaze from your phone to the mirror that faces you in the small bathroom. It covered most of the wall. You slowly stood up from the toilet and walked towards the sink. You turn on the faucet, you don’t care about your makeup in this moment, and you lean forward to splash cold water on your cheeks. 

A breeze comes from the bottom of the door and crawls up your ankle.

You felt it before you could look back up. You knew it was with you in the room. 

You look back at only ranches and lime-green leaves. A smiling birch tree stands behind you, its curves of a womanly form towering above you from its height. It was almost crouching to fit inside the tiny room with you. The being moved slightly like it rushed inside behind you, the rustling of the leaves, and the sound of small nutlets falling onto the porcelain floor.  Before you could open your mouth to scream, the collection of twigs, which you assumed to be the Tree Woman’s hands, rushed in front of your eyes to blind you. 

Le sang est toujours dû.

Her hands were really in front of your eyes. It didn’t feel like a hallucination or a moment lost in reality because of stress. The Tree woman who haunted your youth was behind you, wiggling her branches infront of your eyes, almost like she was going to press the wood into your eyesocket. 

You snap your eyes closed painfully as your left your horror consume you. 

“AHHH!!” You scream as you flail your arms out with balled fists. You wanted it to be away from you, you wanted to hurt it, you wanted it to go away. 

You swing wildly into the air in front of you as you crunch your face to keep your eyes closed, and you hysterically sob. You punch out of fear, anything, everything. 

Your fist connects with the porcelain sink, the door, the faucet, and finally, the flat surface of the mirror. 

You didn’t care. 

You kept swinging your mighty fist out of anger until you heard a crack in your knuckle. 

You snap your eyes open to the feeling of the rush of warmth coming down your arm to your elbow. Your bloody fist held glass shards and pieces in the cracks in your skin, your fingers were abused and felt hot in your skin—a throbbing pulsing throughout your limb. 

The mirror cracked down the middle, with shards still attached to the wall, and a few large pieces lay on the counter by the sink. You felt yourself panting as you were alone in the bathroom again. 

You blink at your crimson blood dripping down to the ground, and you quickly reach out for your purse. A present Jackie’s mother gave you after you graduated from college was a Kate Spade scarf that you tied to the handle.  You quickly rip the fabric off your leather bag, and you start to pull out the big pieces of glass from your knuckles. 

When it was enough for you to tie yourself up, you wrapped the scarf around your wounded hand and quickly tied it tightly on your palm. You will hold your bandage tight with your fingers, and you quickly leave the bathroom. 

You needed to go home. You needed to leave before someone called about your screaming or the shuddering of glass; you couldn’t take it. You slip out into the service tunnel of the convention center, the same one you ran away into after the panel, and run out the exit door with reckless abandon. 

You felt your blood drip onto the pavement as you stormed towards your car. You wiped away another tear that fell to your cheek. You now realized you had been sobbing the whole time as you rushed past some workers for the event. You hold your head down as you try to hide the tears and your bloody fist inside your pocket, and you rush away to your car. 

Once you fling yourself into the driver's seat, you thrust your key into the ignition to leave the parking lot. You pause for a moment as you feel your body become overwhelmed with the pain and emotions you were bottling up in your body. 

“Fuck!” You bellow into the metal walls of your car, your hand bleeding down the circular wheel as you grip it in a vise. 

Why won’t it leave you alone?

‘96

You lie beside Jackie’s, now sleeping, body as you pet her blonde hair. You have been comforting her all night since she found out. You forced her to eat dinner and to try to sleep, and she softly cried into her pillows without the others noticing. Shauna tried to protest you sleeping downstairs, but you reasoned with her that the others want to spend more time with you until tomorrow. Shauna seems annoyed at you, but you knew she would understand if she had heard Jackie earlier. She would understand why you didn’t want to be next to her after learning the extent of her cheating with Jeff went. So, you went downstairs to sleep next to Jackie for the night, and it seems to be nothing less than a restless night. You kiss her forehead lovingly as you move a hair behind her ear with care, you need to smoke a joint. You felt like a bomb ready to explode. A boiling pot spilling over. 

You gently hold Jackie's head up as you lay her heavy head on the pillow, then slide out from under the blankets on the shared bed. You softly tiptoe away from the bed to your purse, hook the strap around your shoulder, and slip out the door as if it were second nature. Your purse was like your lifeline out here anymore. It held your journal, your little crumbles of jerky, your water bottle, and of course, your last pack of cigarettes and your bag of weed. 

Since everyone knew you had it, they always asked for a circle, and you would decline and tell them to save it for when we needed it. You shouldn’t have to explain that right now, you were in an emotionally hard place. This place made you feel trapped in your skin more than being marooned in the Canadian Rockies, and in this moment, you felt like smoking a small joint for yourself and journaling all your emotions. Journal a confession—a vomiting of something more than the little in your stomach.

You took your restless self down the trail towards the lake, you wanted to hear the waves and feel the breeze as you relaxed alone. You planted yourself on the sand with little care as you opened the bag and started to roll something. 

The night was at the beginning of twilight as the moon lit up the evening. The darkness of the woods had grown normal, not scary, as the weeks marched on with no sign of rescue. The sounds of birds and small animals moving around, crickets loudly mating throughout the night, and lonely cicadas crying against a tree animate the autumn breeze. 

You pulled your hair, now longer than you remember, into a claw clip. You put the joint behind your ear as you pull out your journal and pen. You settle yourself against the rock in the sand. 

“Hey, what are you doing out there?” Lottie asks as she walks towards you from the trail, her arms crossed at the crisp air outside. 

You paused as you softly sighed to yourself, you turned your head to face her and smiled, “Nothing much, just going to write in my journal. You want to sit with me?” 

Lottie smiles as she sits next to you without a second thought. She hugs her knees and says, “I saw you leave and I wanted to see you again… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

You felt yourself blush as you smiled at Lottie. You said, “Honestly, everyone has been talking to me today, and I can’t help but think about you too in the moments between.” 

You did. Flashes of what the two of you were doing against the forest floor with her hands groping your breasts and her body connecting with yours in this intense way. It kept creeping into your mind. 

Lottie's eyes soften as she looks over at you, a redness coming over her face and collarbone, as she scooches closer, “I have feelings for you. I’ve felt them ever since we kissed the first night in the cabin.” 

You look at her with wide eyes as you couldn’t find words. You’ve never heard someone say that to you and mean it so sincerely as she looks back at you with bated breath. You haven’t had an opportunity to talk about your feelings, or even if you wanted to have something serious out in the wilderness, but as you look at her eyes wanting only for you to say the same, you don’t stop your lips. “I feel the same, Lottie.” 

 Lottie smiles as she moves her hand to your ear, pulling the joint from behind your ear, “What’s this, silly girl?” 

You blush at the nickname and smile. You chuckle, “It’s a little joint. Wanna share?” 

“You snuck off to smoke a joint? All alone?” Lottie asks as she hands the joint to you to light, and she's excited. You felt flattered by emotions and had never known what it was like for someone to have feelings for you, so you decided to just be yourself out of exhaustion.  So, quietly, the two of you smoke on the small joint with small coughs, and the breeze whistles in the leaves. 

You pause as you let the smoke leave your lungs; it sounds like breathing to you. Like you blowing out the cloud from your body, the whistling was like the trees breathing with you. 

“You feel that too?” Lottie asks as she puts her hand on your arm, her fingers caressing your skin, her eyes bloodshot from the smoke. She leans towards your face as you stay still in your haze. “Yeah.” You say softly as you close your eyes, leaning into her warmth again.  

Lottie looks on in wonder as a tingling sensation comes over her, the cold wind traveling up her arms. The goosebumps are a sign to Lottie. The Wilderness approves of you, approves of the two of you in this moment alone. Lottie felt reassured as she came closer to your body. 

Her hand snakes from your shoulder down to your breast, she feels the hardened bump from the wind, and she pinches your nipple. Her shift movement left you no time to respond as you felt a wave of pleasure and pain come from your left breast, a gasp left your lips as Lottie crowded your face like she did earlier in the day. She comes into your face and asks, her hot breath hitting your lips, “Do you hear the wilderness, too?” 

You yelp as her fingers keep your nipple in its grasp, she extends her hand to groping the whole of your breast. She toys with the nipple as she grips onto the fatty flesh, “Lottie-” 

Lottie doesn’t wait until she pulls your nightgown collar down to expose your bra. Her finger traces the seam of lace as she then hooks the fabric down to see the soft flesh that lies beneath. Her breath hitches at the sight of your intimate body as she sinks her head, her lips kissing down your collar to the mound on your chest. 

You gasped as you found your hands in Lottie’s brown hair, you looked up into the night sky in a lost haze at why she was touching you the way she was, but you couldn’t help but like it. You liked the way she possessively grabbed onto your body, she claimed your breasts with her being. Lottie leaves wet kisses down your sternum to your breast. She opens her mouth and bites the sensitive flesh. Underneath was a purple mark lying in her wake. Her brown eyes look up to yours, a smirk coming to her lips as she craves more. Her teeth caught the worn fabric of your nightgown, she pulls it completely off your breasts, now exposed to the autumn wind, your nipples harden, and your legs twitch in anticipation.  You stare down at her in submission, your posture curled to her body in this moment as you let your legs wrap around her pelvis. A wetness collects in your panties as you feel your hips inadvertently roll against Lottie’s—the hem of the gown rides up your thighs as you feel goosebumps. 

Lottie snaps back up to kiss your lips, giggling. You kiss her back with one on yours. 

Lottie, out of breath, looks down at your breasts and back to your eyes, “I don’t know how someone could call this a sin, it feels so pure.” She says as she leans down and puts her lips around your nipple finally and started to suck. 

Your back arched as you lay down on the sand, you let Lottie come over on top of you as she suckled onto your flesh like it was her lifeline back to reality. You moan into your fist as you try to stay quiet in this intense moment of teeth and flesh, your other hand is wrapped in her dark curls as she moves her attention to your other neglected breast. Your body shakes under the pleasurable touches, the attention and worship Lottie was giving you; you couldn’t help but completely succumb to the want. Her hands roughly hold you down by your waist as her cheeks feel the softness of your breasts. She mumbles lustfully, against your chest, “I see it now. I see what we’re meant to be doing.”. 

You moan as you felt her hand travel down your stomach to touch your covered pussy. She feels your heat from your underwear. She can feel how ready you were. You gasp as Lottie pulls back so her face is in yours, “Don’t you feel it? The love that is all around us? What does the love of the wilderness wants us to have? It’ll set us free. No one to stop us, no parents, no fucking pills, nothing to stop us from each other now.” She rants, her eyes intense with lust and greed, she bears her teeth as she smiles, her hands come under the hem of your gown. 

Your eyebrow scrunches as you lean your forehead against hers, you're gone in the lust of the moment, even to respond, your hands rubbing her shoulders as she readies herself to enter you with her slender fingers. “I want you, I want to own you solely, if the wilderness allows.” She vows as she studies the little changes of pleasure in your face. 

You gasp as you hear her words, you don’t stop yourself as you try to push your hips against her fingers. You wanted her inside of you. You wanted her to claim you. You wanted her to claim you more than Natalie did. You wanted her never to leave you. 

“Kiss me.” You demand in response, you pull Lottie by her hair back to your lips. You kiss her harshly as you roll your hips desperately to relieve the overwhelming sensation in your pants. You feel her bite your lower lip as her hands possessively roam along your body. She caresses your sides like she had never felt something so soft before, she leaves the roundness of your hips with tender threading as she starts to pull your underwear down. 

Lottie moves her lips down your neck, she kisses down your heart beat as she sucks onto the tender flesh wanting to mark you for herself. You moan openly into the air at the feeling of her lips against your flesh. You only wanted more and more. 

Snap! 

You gasp as you snap your head towards the woods. You see, in the distance, against a tree, someone is looking on at the two of you together in the sand. You and this person look at each other in the dark, you can’t make out anything other than the silhouette as they turn around and run away into the woods. Panic comes over you as you push Lottie back by her shoulders, “Lottie! Lottie! Get up, Someone was watching!” 

Lottie doesn’t react as she kisses down your neck, she licks the sweat off your chin, “It doesn’t matter-”

“They’re going to tell everyone!” 

Lottie says in a low whisper, “It doesn’t matter anymore, babe,” as she then sinks her teeth into your neck. She holds you down as you squirm away from her; she doesn’t care; she leaves a dark red mark on the left side of her neck. “It’s as it should have always been.” 

You blink at her as you pant, you don’t know what to do. She doesn’t make any sense as she speaks in vague absolutes, as if the two of you in the sand were a part of some greater plan; you just look at her as she caresses the flesh. You felt numb and lost in this moment, “Lottie, they could be telling everyone.” 

“Let them. What will they do? Reverse what has already happened?” She says with an almost cheerful chuckle, her eyes sharkle when they look up at yours. Her hands softly caress your sides as she says, “You’re right, though. We should head back before anyone makes a mess of this.” 

You nodded, still lost in the moment as you slowly sat up. Your clothes hanging from your body made you realize the situation you were in, and you couldn’t help but feel foolish. You don’t even know what to say, but you knew you had to say, “I’m still leaving tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Lottie asked as she started to straighten out her shirt. She looks at you with a wide eye, “What did you say?” 

“I’m still leaving tomorrow to find rescue… I know I have feelings for you, and I know that I still need to go.” 

Lottie looks a little hurt, like this was her plan to stop you from going tomorrow, but she covered it up with a forced smile. “I know. I-” She pauses as she stops redressing herself, “I just have a bad feeling.” 

“I do too. But, I have a bad feeling about staying too.” 

Lottie looks at you for a moment as she moves her hand to caress your cheek, her thumb comforts your soft skin, “I’ll be praying for you. I’ll be here waiting for you, I won’t stop you, but I wanted you to know I cared about you.” 

You stared into Lottie’s eyes for a moment as you let yourself feel the comfort of her hand. You lean your cheek into her hand. In the morning, you would be leaving, so you savor this moment. “Okay, thank you… I appreciate that, Lottie. A lot.” 

You finally find yourself climbing up the ladder steps to the attic. It felt like it was two in the morning. You decided not to sleep next to Jackie because you didn’t want to wake her, and you didn’t want to sleep next to Lottie because you didn’t want to be convinced to stay in the morning. You wanted to find some rest before the big expedition. You hung your purse on your back as you crept up the attic. You saw Shauna sitting in her makeshift bed, quickly scribbling in her journal. Her shoes were muddy as she rested them off the side of her blankets, her bed shirt wrinkled as she took deep, angry breaths. 

Jackie must have put it back without you noticing. 

You felt Shauna’s brown eyes bore into your head as you came into the room. She had a scowl resting on her lip with bitterness as she asked, “What are you doing up here?” 

“Going to bed, Shauna.” You sighed, bone-weary, as you came to your bed. You could see Shauna in the corner of your eye, just scowling away at you.

“Don’t you want to sleep with Jackie?” Shauna hissed as she kicked your makeshift bed beside her in anger. 

You pause and purse your lips in frustration, “What?” 

Shauna shot out of bed as she confronted you, her hot breath on your face; you were overwhelmed by the whole event. “You don’t want to be around me, just go away, (y/n).” 

“Shauna, I’m so tired, stop it-”

“No! You want to sleep with Natalie, don’t you? You don’t even want to be here before you leave tomorrow, like I don’t even matter!” Shauna hissed in your face as she poked your chest, pushing you back a step with each point. She says to you with fire in her eyes, “Why are you running off with other people? Why aren’t you sleeping here tonight?” 

“Shauna, stop! You are spiraling, everyone wanted to see me.” You reasoned as you held your hands out to Shauna, “I’m going tomorrow for you! For your baby, can’t you see that?” 

“No, I don’t feel that! You’re just wanting to be everyone’s friend!” Shauna hissed at you as she came closer, now the second person today to get in your space and your face. Shauna grabs your chin as she looks into your eyes, “Where have you been? You weren’t downstairs?” 

“I-” You try to speak but found yourself becoming overwhelmed, you held onto her shoulder to hold her back in this moment, “I was at the lake. I was journaling, a lot happened today.” 

Shauna hums in response. She doesn’t believe you as she pulls your face to the side and scans over your skin, looking down. She sees on your sternum where the small purple mark Lottie left on your body was. Shauna almost growls as she asks, “Who did this? Huh? Did your journal give you this?” 

Shauna points harshly at the lovebite. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement come through you as Shauna grows jealous, as you didn’t come up with any words. You didn’t need to explain yourself. You only panted as Shauna grabbed you harshly on your shoulders, “You want to sleep with Natalie tonight?” she asked again, this time with a dangerous undertone lining the words.

You almost bit your lip as you whispered, “No. I’m okay here.” 

You felt your heart beating in your neck as you looked on at Shauna’s angry lip quiver; you knew what she was going to do. You have done this a million times, it felt like. 

Shauna grabs you from the back of your neck and pulls you into a hungry kiss, she puts her other hand on your back and to pulls you against her body. Your head was spinning as you leaned into the kiss without control, and you moaned into her lips. Shauna groans as she pulls the hair at the back of your head, as she possessively pulls you to the ground. 

Your head was spinning from the lust and longing Lottie has for you, but Shauna’s makes you feel drunk. You liked the feeling of being desired. You loved it when many people desired you, you’ve discovered. Your body feels on fire as Shauna crawls over you, kissing your lips like she owns them. 

“No one else is allowed to touch you like this, but me, got it?” She growls as she pulls you into her body, her legs wrap around your thigh on the ground. The sleepovers over the years have been known for this: Shauna or Jackie practicing on each other and you. Both wanted, and you knew from them the truth of your attraction, “(Y/n), Move your leg up.”

Note 2: Le sang est toujours dû means blood is still owed

Taglist: @zhivaxo @h-doodles @homopheli @bigtimesalt8196 @juniperjean @scatorccioz @juniperjean @yaakooi @lottieswebs @juchily @freezinggay @deathly710-blog @ghostoflesbianism @marvelous-wandanatangel @errriiie @anskkks @deathvidal @slutforhotpeople @thursdayygrrrl @day-ziez @evewasheretoday @mayasaurusss @captainbabybear @eleanormall @mommyeater2000 @leonchef @mikititta @tigersarrcool @nyasbae @dykepvppy @jax1118 @oakwave @mmiah @dvrkhcld @swiftin0f @opheliadeservedbetter-27 @psychicdreamwonderland @pinkmoonzzz @under-your-bed-not-in-it @sadsapphic-rose @fictitious-sapphic @gayandfairycore @modernvenuss @livil589 @sifodiesilasca

[renskaji]

Hihi happy 100 followers!! you deserve it, your writing is amazing;Dd could you please write suo with 39 fluff prompt? thanks!!

39: featherlight kisses over their entire face

So rarely do you ever get to see Hayato Suo anything but completely composed.

Nirei has told you about the few occasions during fights when your boyfriend let his emotions slip through the cracks of his self-control. Toying with an opponent to prove a point or going harder than necessary, longer than needed.

But nothing compares to the way he absolutely melts under your touch.

You've been doing nothing more than laying around for the past few hours. There had been an attempt to watch a movie, but you had fallen asleep and Suo had paused it so you wouldn't miss anything. Then when you awoke, instead of restarting the film, you had resorted to quiet conversation about whatever came to mind.

You're both laying on your bed, but it's only a twin-sized mattress, so you're pressed close together. Suo reclines flat on his back while regaling you with stories you're almost certain are made up, and you're on your side, head propped up on your hand, to listen to him talk.

And with Suo, the topic jumped from subject to subject, each one more outrageous than the last. You had long since learned to not believe him about nearly anything that sounded even slightly off, but that didn't mean you weren't giggling with every 'did you know that Sugishita actually braids his hair before a fight?' that he still tried to trick you with.

"You're a menace, you know that, right?" You ask him, interrupting a long-winded explanation about how if he were to ever take off his tassel earrings the world's magnetic pull would be affected and life as it was would cease to exist.

"Well, that's just not nice." He tuts, but he's still grinning softly, so you know he's not hurt in the slightest. Really, in your relationship, menace is practically a team of endearment. "I think you owe me an apology."

"Is that so?" You roll your eyes with a matching smile. Teasing is your love language, too.

"Mhm." There's a mischievous glint in his eye you could recognize under any conditions. It's so fundamentally Suo that it sweeps you off your feet and knocks the wind out of you.

"Alright," You murmur before you begin your assault.

You start with his chin, your lips brushing gently over the smooth skin there before moving up and to the side. You kiss his cheeks, the tip of his nose, both eyes, his forehead, and his eyepatch once more for good measure. You feel him relax into the mattress with every kiss, and it only spurs you on to keep going.

"You missed a spot." He comments when you press a line of kisses across his jaw and stopping at his chin, where you started. Your laugh comes out a little breathless, because you're not sure how you could've missed a spot when you made sure to show love to every square inch of his face.

"Where?" You question, ready to remedy the mistake you're not sure you actually made.

But then Suo taps the tip of his finger against his lips.

"Can't have that, can we?" You hum, more to yourself than anything as you set you palm against his cheek and leaned closer. The second your lips are on his, his hand cradles the back of your head to keep you close.

And maybe he's a menace, but you're more than willing to entertain him.

[sevenwishesonshootingstars]

Long Awaited Wish: Descent of Our Beloved Star (2)

Part two of this. I haven't actually gotten around to doing the Natlan archon quest so please forgive anything that doesn't feel right or make sense. This is probably going to have more parts than I'd originally planned so I'm going to try to keep certain things short, which unfortunately means little focus on character interaction outside of the nation's leaders (and additional archon where applicable).

It started in Natlan. The Stadium of the Sacred Flame was decorated immensely. It was vibrant and ornate and bustling, even more so than usual. Alongside the usual street art styled murals were now banners, flags, streamers, lights, and other decorative objects, some familiar and some not, all as bright and lively as the rest of Natlan’s culture was shown to be. And yet it was still more than you’d ever known it to be.

NPCs were buzzing around to complete various tasks and partake in numerous activities. They were eager, faces so expressive and movements so fluid you would have thought this was a cutscene and not regular gameplay. There were people from every tribe, and the interior was so packed with actually alive looking crowds you wondered if every NPC in the nation was there. Even more impressive, most of them actually noticed your presence (well the Traveler’s, or so you assumed) and seemed to light up at the sight. You knew the Traveler was something of a celebrity by now, but the sheer joy on some of their faces was almost overwhelming. They moved out of the way, cheerfully exclaiming they were glad to see you there, that they were happy you actually came, some even thanking you for showing up. Thanks to the third person point of view given by the cameras, you even saw a few people reach out and try to touch the Traveler’s arms and hair, appearing almost longing.

It was uncomfortable.

As much as you didn’t want to make a judgement before you even knew what was going on, you couldn’t help but feel suspicious of the intensity of their happiness. Sure the Traveler was a hero, but this level of adoration had seemingly come out of nowhere, kicking up to 11 over night. You were reminded of the moment in Sumeru when the people had been led to believe that the Traveler had just saved the world. The way everyone had been trying to get closer to them, closing in, zombie-like in their appreciation. And yet, the NPCs here were also the opposite. They seemed so alive, aware of their behavior, choosing to act this way on their own behalf. You weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

You were taken near the entry point of the actual stadium, where Mavuika was waiting, arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked, and mouth in her signature confident grin. “You’re here! Good, I want to show you what we put together,” she said, ushering you to come over. “We’ve been working non-stop to get this all set up and organized. Getting the entire nation in one place is easier said than done, but now that it is done, we ought to enjoy it!”

You leaned forward in your seat, eager to finally get some details on what was going on. She led you out into the stadium, where the NPCs had all packed together. They cheered at your shared entrance, so loudly that you recoiled slightly from the sound. Mavuika grinned at you and stepped forward to address the crowd while you watched from the other side of the screen in curiosity and confusion.

“People of Natlan, of every tribe, I welcome you all to the very first Long Awaited Wish Festival!” she yelled, excitement and pride bubbling under the confidence of her voice. “We've been to the Abyss and back, fighting to save our nation, our homes, and our families. We're in a new era, and it's now the time to celebrate how far we've come!”

You tilted your head. This was interesting… you noticed her namedrop the in-game event as a festival. Based on the event image, every nation that had been released was involved. Did they each have their own version of the festival? You snapped back to attention when the Pyro Archon's speech turned to the subject of you the Traveler.

“And now, we can’t forget the attendance of our Star,” she told the crowd as she grabbed the Traveler's wrist and pulled up their arm in celebration, a win of what you weren’t sure. “A vessel of guidance and greatness, our friend and hero, and an embodiment of will, our Star in tangible form, the Traveler!”

The crowd, as they say, went wild. People screamed in adoration and excitement, clapping and jumping. They waved signs and were all in their best clothes. Their eyes were all on you, and your stomach felt like TV static. You were unsure of what some of the archon's words meant too.

You spotted various playable characters in the crowd as well. The original gang, of course, Mualani cheering with Kachina on her shoulders while Kinich swatted disinterestedly at Ajaw. Ororon clapping, Varessa waving, and everyone in between and beyond them scattered about the stadium. All here for the Traveler, here for you.

After Mavuika's speech, the event was in full swing. The archon herself showed you around the festival, bringing you from booth to booth, many of which you got free things from. You noticed as you passed the NPCs that the option to speak was available for the majority of them.

The rest of the day was spent doing various festival activities in the form of challenges and mini games. There were lines for most of them, but you were apparently given a line skipping pass of some sort because the Traveler was always pushed to the front of the line regardless of what you did.

Each of the playable characters had a mini game they participated in with you, be it as a teammate or opponent. A balancing challenge with Iansan with the goal to carry progressively heavier weights while jumping over obstacles for as long as you can. An eating contest with Varessa, presented in the form of a Pacman parody with various dishes from across the nation instead of ghosts. A fruit catching game with Ororon where you had to go back and forth and use his skill to catch fruits falling from trees of different heights. An operation style game with Ifa, where touching the wrong thing triggered a buzzer. An underground maze with Kachina, throwing things through hoops while surfing with Mualani, a grappling/swinging race with Kinich, the list went on and on, each character trying in their own way to keep you the Traveler at theirs or guarantee a return.

You were surprised your phone hadn't exploded.

It had been a few hours and your battery was soon as good as dead, so you went to the eating area in the stadium to finish off. You were instructed by the game to sit at the table with Mavuika, so you did. Though you didn't notice at the time, everyone else watched with barely concealed disappointment that their Star was sitting with someone else, but she was the archon so it only made sense.

“Are you enjoying the festivities?” she asked. The dialogue options were really two different ways of saying yes so you just picked the first automatically. Mavuika beamed. “That's the spirit! It took a lot to put this together so I'd hope we did it right and actually put together something fun.”

The Traveler nodded, a smile just as bright on their own face. They seemed to be enjoying the ordeal, so… “Well, if you're having fun, I guess I don't mind the weirdness as much,” you muttered to the screen with a chuckle. Both of their smiles got brighter, but surely it was your imagination. You'd been looking at a screen for too long.

The meal was finished enthusiastically and soon it was time to set off back the way you came, to the previous nation and next celebration. You said goodbye to each playable character, the archon doing your final send off and whispering as you went, “Remember Natlan when the time comes.”

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for April 2025! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Hold on to the memories (they will hold on to you) by nevermind_991 / @nevermind991 [M, 8k, Louis/Harry]

From the story:

“So, Mr Tomlinson, still think I’m a weak witch?”

“Make it stop!” Louis shouted. In his entire existence no one had ever dared to inflict such agony on him. He had never experienced anything like this…

Harry chuckled darkly, “Or what?” he taunted, throwing Louis’ own words back at him. Another flick of his wrist, and the pressure intensified.

“Jesus, fuck!” Louis gasped, agony rippling through him. Through the pain, he looked up at Harry, standing over him with a dark smirk playing on his lips.

With all the strength he had left, Louis lunged and then grabbed Harry’s ankles yanking him down. Finally, the noise stopped. “You fucking miserable witch! Count your minutes.”

Louis’ eyes turning red, his canines fully extended ready to sink into every last drop of Harry’s blood. “You said you can snap my neck in a blink of an eye,” Louis growled, voice low and deadly. “So can I… with my bare hands.”

Or- Louis Tomlinson, a thousand-year-old vampire and English literature professor at Cambridge, finds his life disrupted when his new PhD student, Harry Styles, arrives. Their meeting uncovers hidden secrets and forces them to confront their past and future.

＊ Till Death Do Us Part by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow [M, 68k, Harry/Louis]

Louis was living his ordinary life right until one day, when he woke up in a world that wasn't his. He doesn't know how or why he got here, but one thing is certain: he must find a way back home. Trapped in dangerous underworld where power is everything, and trust is a luxury, he is determined to escape. Meeting Harry changes everything and Louis is faced with an impossible choice — will he fight to return to the life he lost, or surrender to love he never saw coming?

＊ All Of You For Eternity by @signofcomfort [M, 29k, Louis/Harry]

A beat passed between them, the curtains fluttered, and Louis could still hear faints of Harry's heart, stuttering, trying to keep the pace with Louis’. But Louis’ own wasn't slowing down. It had never stopped screaming and shouting since the day Edward turned to dust. The only love of his life. The only sacred thing that had decided to leave Louis behind. And Louis had learned how to be with that reality. He was breathing it. It had made it so much easier to let Harry go, so much easier to let his hurt onto Harry. And maybe Harry was indeed born for that. To take the pain that Edward had passed onto Louis. Didn't hurt people hurt people? And Louis was broken, cruelty didn't seem fit to describe him, not when he had watched so much of what life had repaid him before he went out in the search, knocking on Martha’s door.

OR Meet the walker of the night, aka, vampire, aka Louis Tomlinson, who is dwelling between the lovers from the past and the present!

＊ Mountain Investigation by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt [T, 35k, Harry/Louis]

As a plane crash investigator, Louis has handled his fair share of strange cases, but something is different about the crash of British Airways flight BA278.

Crashed into the Brecon Beacons, over the Pen Y Fan mountain, very few survived.

One of them being the pilot, Harry Styles.

While evidence is pointing to a pilot error, something isn't adding up with Harry's story and Louis is determined to figure out what exactly happened that night and why Harry isn't all that keen to prove his own innocence.

＊ All I've Ever Known by @haztobegood [E, 34k, Louis/Harry]

The disruption was small, but mighty. It came hitched to the back of a black Dodge Ram pickup truck one sunny spring afternoon. With its shiny metal siding and sparkling windows, it stood out like a sore thumb. It was a Tiny House. The brand new tiny house was delivered to the empty lot at 28 Longbourn Lane, drawing a small crowd around the mailboxes. Gossip was a hot commodity in Princess Park and it had been ages since the neighbors had seen something so novel. “It is a truth universally acknowledged that anybody that wants to live in a tiny home must be lacking in both taste and sense.”

A Pride & Prejudice AU

＊ Springbrooke by skipper / @skipperxao3 [M, 27k+, wip, Harry/Louis]

Springbrooke is a small town, rich and filled with perfection. 

At the start of his senior year, Harry, an omega with no desire to fit in, meets Zayn, an Alpha with no desire to stand out. With him, he makes a pledge to survive one year, his final year at Springbrooke High, and he’s determined to make the best of it. He struggles through new relationships along with the old, discovering the true meaning of love and friendships in ways he never expected. 

To Harry, each day that passes is one day closer to breaking free and his chance to leave without looking back. Though he soon learns, in the end, it’s not leaving that matters, but what you take with you when you go.

＊ Let Us Be Lovers by @lululawrence [NR, 27k, Louis/Diego Luna]

Louis and Diego were only supposed to have a one night stand. When Diego's parents unexpectedly turn up the morning after, Louis finds himself getting a crash course in Mexican culture and Diego's family, and quite possibly the healing he didn't even realize he still needed.

Follow along through the entire chaotic and surprising day from the moment Louis wakes up to the time he goes to sleep. It could just be a day in the life... but it turns out to be so much more.

＊ Become the strangest days by louisismycat / @liminalkittyfics [M, 40k, Louis/Harry]

Harry, Louis, and Shiloh uncover small miracles during the festival of Passover and find a way toward a new future. Part 2 of Find a light

＊ In This World (It's Just Us) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [T, 33k, Harry/Louis]

Louis is searching through his drawer, trying to find some lost pennies, maybe a buck or two, anything that means he doesn’t have to starve for the next week and a half, when he comes across the flyer that he’d haphazardly shoved into it the last time he had a guy over. Louis isn’t sure what had compelled him to pick it off the noticeboard when he’d first seen it, though if he’s honest with himself, that isn’t entirely true.

New study, the flyer claims, financial compensation up to £3000.

It had sounded too good to be true, at the time. Yet he’d kept the flyer, because £3000 is a lot, especially for a 22-year-old college student. Which is probably why it had been posted at a uni noticeboard in the first place, which he knows should probably give him pause, but well.

Desperate times, and all that.

Which is how Louis finds himself in a sterile looking white room, one that he figures is usually used for important - boring - meetings, sitting opposite a young looking bloke in a white lab coat.

Or: Louis participates in a scientific study, but everything is not what it seems.

＊ Honey on my lips by Worldsofdreamers / @defences-down [NR, 2k, Zayn/Niall]

A soft morning at home and questions they both need answers to

＊ Lost In Your Love by Worldsofdreamers / @defences-down [T, 1k, Niall/Zayn]

He's been having weird dreams for weeks where nothing makes sense, he chalked it up to being on the road, but what if it is more than that? Part 3 of How It Found Us

＊ What If We Were Penguins? by Worldsofdreamers / @defences-down [NR, 1k, Louis/Harry, Niall/Zayn/Liam]

A late night question turns into the strangest dream... or is it?

＊ Let Life Take Its Time by Worldsofdreamers / @defences-down [T, 1k, Harry/Louis]

Ever the doting best friend, Louis has been looking after Harry for a few days, when Harry lets a secret slip.

Can their friendship survive?

＊ give me all of this (that's what I do) by Worldsofdreamers / @defences-down [E, 2k, Zayn/Niall]

Tour has started up again, and now that they are back touring as a five-piece, the frustrations from the outside world begin piling up.

Luckily, they have each other. Part 4 of How It Found Us

＊ but i could be your obsession by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 45k, Louis/Harry]

Through the windshield he could see a maintenance road up ahead. “Turn in there.”

As Harry was pulling off, Louis pulled open the glove box, dropping both their phones in the cup holders and rifling through the inside of it.

“What’s wrong?”

Finding the lube, Louis tossed it in Harry's lap. “You’re hot. It’s annoying.”

It’s the summer before Louis' senior year of college and he’s spending it getting drunk with his friends, working an internship he hates, and hooking up with Harry, the ‘straight’ frat boy he met in January. There’s only six weeks until school starts.

＊ Ephesians 5:21 by @wishingforloushair [E, 24k, Harry/Louis]

Louis snorts, flicking the cigarette butt onto the floor and stomping it out with the toe of his leather boot. “Do you think Jesus regretted it? Once he was up on the cross in fucking agony surrounded by criminals, I mean. Do you think when he wept he was full of regret and anger? When he realised in that moment no one gave a shit about him? The clouds didn’t part, God didn’t come down to pull him from the cross. God, his own father, left him to die. He didn’t even comfort His son while he died. Let him die all alone in fucking agony, didn’t he? Do you reckon he regretted it? Do you think he looked around at the fucked up world and realised we weren’t worth all that pain?”

College Freshman Harry has a perfectly normal relationship with God. He's gone to church his whole life, prayed when he's needed to, and God always listens. After signing up to Theology 101, for the easy A, he meets Louis Tomlinson, an upperclassman who wears leather jackets with a chunky black crucifix. Louis is also religious, so Harry of course agrees to go to the college's Bible Discussion Study Meeting. But Louis has fucked up views on religion that Harry can't possibly understand until one day, he does.

＊ Two, He's Kissing On You by @louislittletomlintum [E, 10k, Louis/Harry, Louis/Harry/Zayn]

“There’s no way you’re this professional,” Louis accused quietly, adjusting his grip on his cock that felt like it was throbbing now from not getting the friction it wanted.

“I’m not,” Zayn shrugged and mumbled back, still snapping away. He almost sounded bored but his words betrayed him. “Your partner is literally right there though,”

Louis instantly grinned at that, because if that was the only issue, it could be easily resolved.

“He likes to watch. Don’t you Haz?”

or the one where louis' a life model, zayn is a photographer, and harry is also there

＊ shameful company by @blueskiesrry [E, 40k, Harry/Louis]

Harry remains impassive as he says, “I never said we were sleeping together.”

“But you have, right?”

He sighs heavily through his nose, figuring there’s no use in hiding it. Not if it means as little as he says it does. “Yeah. Sure. We’ve slept together.”

The smug grin is evident in Pippa’s voice. “And are you seeing other people?”

“Don’t see why we can’t. It’s not like it’s anything serious.”

Pippa hums. “Interesting.”

in which louis has always had clear intentions, harry has always been a bit of a brat, and it seems like everything yet nothing has changed since they broke up a few years ago. except now they're fucking.

[nabi-unveiled]

I've struggled with what to write about Heesu in Class 2.

Opinions have been polarized, and I know that whatever I write isn't going to resonate with at least half of the people that I follow and respect. It helped that I wasn't going into this blind. I knew it wasn't a typical BL. I had read a LOT of commentary in the past couple of weeks.

Many people who wanted the source material didn't get what they wanted/needed. I can understand that. While I typically like it when adaptations twist and build on source material, I have had the experience where I was incredibly disappointed in an adaptation. I Hear the Sunspot -> I'm talking to you. When you hold something near and dear to your heart, it hurts when you don't recognize it anymore. Especially if the adaptation removed the things that you valued and loved.

But I hadn't read the source material on this one so that wasn't a factor for me. I do plan to read it now that I've watched the show. I will probably keep the two as completely different entities in my brain. Based on people's reactions, that feels like the best move forward.

Many people who DIDN'T read the source material also didn't get what they wanted/needed. They might view it as homophobic or disrespectful of serious issues. Or it may never have connected with them emotionally. But my world is VERY homophobic so this felt very real to me. It connected emotionally and it hit HARD...at least in certain scenes.

My feelings are too raw to really discuss the show analytically. I'll talk pacing, visuals, astronomy metaphors and all that once I finish up my astronomy project for work. I'll try to approach it objectively when I write up the analysis of individual episodes. There is a lot to dive into on that score - some positive, some negative, some neutral.

However, right now, in this moment? I can't even think about how I would "rate" this show. I'm too busy having big feels after the finale. Because while it may not have been a "BL" by many people's standards, it was definitely queer. And that counts for something. I'm no high schooler - I turn forty in a little over a week - but it scraped my open wounds and made them bleed. Honestly, episode 11 of Your Sky did that to me too. I just kept my posts private on that one, because this feels like serving myself up for judgment. I might regret this post.

I tried during my two hour walk last night to figure out what I could say. Every take I tried got personal fast. I can't separate it. And in the end, I've decided to not even try.

So is this post meta analysis? No.

Is this post a critique or analytical evaluation of the show? No.

Is this an endorsement of the show? No.

Heck. Half of this post probably isn't about the show at all.

It feels weird to say since many people around me call me a robot or unfeeling, but this post is pure emotion for me. It's probably oversharing. Just like whether a show is popular or not, I don't have a gauge for that. I'm the person that will spend two weeks talking to almost no one outside of my children/husband, but then spend three hours discussing all things garlic with some random person I never met previously. That's Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo's fault. I don't really have an in between mode. I'm silent, or I don't shut up.

Warning: This got long. No surprise there. Also, in case it is a trigger for you, religion and sexuality are intertwined throughout this post and it touches on themes of coming out.

Anonymous Inbox Warning: If you read this post and come into my inbox to worry about my "mental health" or "recommend therapy" or anything similar, I'm just going to delete it. Therapy is great. I'm aware. I highly recommend and advocate for it. That is not the point here.

But after watching Heesu, here are the things stuck in my brain.

I envied Heesu and Seungwon.

Was it hard for them? Yes. Were they struggling due to things that are unfair and that I wish weren't true of society? Yes. Will they continue to struggle? Unfortunately, yes. But they're figuring themselves out and are coming to terms with their identity in high school. There's something to be said for that.

Thanks to neurodivergence and my conservative, religious upbringing, I didn't figure myself out until I was already married and had my first child. Both in terms of sexuality and my personal religious beliefs, I was in my mid to late 20s before I figured things out.

Because for many, many years I just thought I was evil and morally bankrupt. After all, I really enjoyed Cruel Intentions and I really really thought it would be a whole lot of fun to make out with Watts in the garage (Some Kind of Wonderful). @dribs-and-drabbles I loved that they were one of your ships. But I could never ship it. Keith didn't deserve her. She was mine.

But this was a problem, because I was taught that sex was the root of all evil. Even heterosexual sex. And to have such perverse desires meant something was morally and drastically wrong with you. Stupid purity culture swamp.

I decided that if I tried hard enough and studied enough, that I'd figure out how to fix my broken brain. After all, there were ways to overcome my broken hearing. There were ways to overcome my broken empathy meter. There were ways to overcome my attention issues and the chaos of my brain. Surely, there was a fix for that part of me that really liked thinking about the Olsen twins and Taylor Hanson too.

I'm fine with being called "stubborn", "argumentative", "weird", "scary" and the dozens of other not quite positive adjectives I hear about myself. I mean this with full sincerity -> it doesn't bother me. I get called plenty of positive things too. And one man's "stubborn", is another person's "independent". But I didn't want to be evil. So I tried. I really did.

It took me a long time to accept that I wasn't actually broken or morally bankrupt. It took me a long time to figure out the problem was as @babyangelsky put it that desire was considered a swamp to begin with. I'm still hoping my person accepts that one day too.

So yes, I'm incredibly happy for Heesu and Seungwon that they figured all of that out in high school. I hope this show, BLs in general and changes in society as a whole help teenagers get there much faster than me. I'm sure a smartphone or internet resources like we have today would've helped.

I felt relieved when Heesu figured out that there was someone in his world who wouldn't judge him.

Even as I deconstructed religiously and embraced my sexuality, I never worried about my (younger) brother's reaction. I always knew he'd be in my corner. He was a musical theater major. He's kissed men as part of his shows (our family doesn't know that), and he had already deconstructed (they also don't know that). He figured things out much faster than me. He listens to me talk about BLs and all of my fun dilemmas with them. We have never directly talked about my (or his) sexuality though. Sex is not something easily discussed in our family. Plus, we're still siblings. I really don't want to think of him in that way.

But I know he has my back. And that has meant everything over the years.

However, my brother lives 5 hours away. I get to talk to him only a couple of times a month (if that). He's not the people that surround me on the daily. And the people that surround me? They WILL judge. Strike that. They DO judge - everyone and everything. Openly and loudly. I live in a very close knit, very conservative, very religious family and community. It wasn't my intention to stay, but words left unsaid mean I married someone who talks a lot about traveling and seeing the world but never intended to see it.

And nine days out of ten, that's okay. I love our home that he built with his own hands, our hikes through the woods, our gaming sessions, and our "fun" times too 😉. But that tenth day when I take a break from work, stop doing the laundry or packing the kids' lunchboxes and really think about everything? It's rough.

For a very long time, I kept all of my thoughts on religion and sexuality completely secret while being swallowed alive by my black hole. I tried to convince myself that it didn't matter. But when I found that one person in my daily circle who I realized would accept me? It was a miracle. It changed everything. I eventually found a few. I'm forever grateful for those former coworkers.

It's insane how much lighter it feels when you remove the load by "just one person", and how much strength you gain when you realize that you are not really alone in your thinking. In funny things (to me), they weren't surprised. "I thought that was a given. It's pretty obvious."

Over the years, the Tumblr community has been another light for me. Even when I was lurking. Just knowing that there were people out there who'd have no problem with my kinky thoughts went a very long way. So that scene for Heesu, when he realized Seungwon wouldn't judge him - I felt it in my bones.

The tennis court scene in the finale with Chan Young/Heesu pains me...for both of them.

And I'm still standing on it.

I can't judge this scene objectively within the narrative. It got too personal so most of what I say about this scene will have very little to do with Heesu/Chan Young's actual relationship. Again, this isn't meta. This is emotion.

I had a strong negative reaction to Chan Young in episode 1. This was followed by a humorous bit of time with @lurkingshan when my brother pointed out that he was a lot like my husband all the way down to him being a competitive tennis player in high school. I didn't expect just HOW far that analogy might go though.

Because just like Heesu, I started by coming clean with my Chan Young. Difference being that my Chan Young is my friend, lover, and other half.

So this line...

I've heard it. I took YEARS to come completely clean precisely because I knew it was going to hurt him so very deeply. I tried to soften the blow. I tried to lead up to it in small steps. But it didn't help.

Side note: @my-rose-tinted-glasses By our standards for Min Jun from Business as Usual, this might make me the bad guy. It's probably why I am trying so hard to forgive him. I haven't got there with him yet. Ghosting feels different to me. Min Jun essentially left the court.

This line...

I've heard it too. It was wrapped in language about moral corruption and rebelling against religious rules just because I disagreed with them. But the gist was the same. Choosing myself is being selfish. I've just decided I'm okay with that. That I'm worth being selfish about. If I have to be my own biggest fan, so be it.

But this one...

It's the reason that I can't analyze this scene objectively (yet). Because it's true. I destroyed my husband's whole world and vision of our life together by my confession. In gaming terms, it was a headshot. In the show, Chan Young now has to reframe everything that he thought was a part of their relationship and decide where to go from here. It's not an easy task.

When I liveblogged Let Free the Curse, I said I wasn't going to touch Juyeong's cross necklace and how he removed it to be with Dohoe. That I couldn't deal with it. This is why. As @respectthepetty pointed out in their Let Free the Curse commentary, that cross is heavy for my Juyeong and it's not a fun place for me. I've put the person I love in a place where they have to choose every single day whether to put on that necklace that they VALUE and BELIEVE in or choose to embrace me, the person they love, who is also the sinner on the road to hell. It's tearing them apart and robbing them of their joy. And while I'm no longer being sucked into my personal black hole, I now get a courtside seat to all of their pain. I created a rift in their universe.

So while many people are understandably upset that Heesu is apologizing in this scene.

I didn't see it as apologizing for being queer.

I saw it as apologizing for hurting the person they love and care about. For being a source of pain. And yes, there IS a difference.

Because yes, I struggled with my identity for years. But I'm not sorry that I now understand myself, and I'm not going to trap myself in a glass room. I will not apologize for being myself. However, on that 10th day, when everything gets a bit too real for us both, I get to hear the tears at night from my person. And I am really sorry that I'm the cause of them. I really wish I wasn't.

So I'll forgive him if he hits a tennis ball at me from time to time. I'll dodge most of them. The ones that connect WILL hurt. But he's hurting too, and it's going to take time for him to put that racquet down.

We've been on this court for a very long time as he decides what to do about that cross necklace. But it took me a long time to put us on the court in the first place.

I'm really hoping we get here one day.

For both of our sakes. I really hope we do. But we may not.

For now, I'm just glad that we're both refusing to leave the court on that tenth day. Because the other nine days are still a blast.

I'll try to watch the scene with the actual narrative in mind next time.

It broke my heart when Seungwon's mom asked him what she should do.

It WRECKED me like no other scene if I'm being honest. Even worse than the tennis court scene.

Why? Because I don't want to hurt my kids. I don't want to end up on my bad mothers list. I'm trying to figure it all out, but it's tricky. I had a similar conversation to this one with my two older children just a few weeks ago. Unlike the tennis court, this is relatively new territory for me. They're just now getting old enough to understand. For context, I'm not really "out" by most people's standards within the larger community. I'd like my Chan Young to stop hitting balls at me before I move forward in that regard. I'd really like to have him by my side if I take on our community and the rest of our families. So for now I wait as he ponders what he's supposed to do.

But I haven't kept my thoughts on things or my reality from my kids in the meantime. They know my beliefs and where I stand. They are even aware that I blog and watch BL. They laughed at me quite a bit during the emoji tag game as I tried to figure out the coffin in @dramalove247 's set. They thought it meant vampire by the way.

Six days out of seven, it doesn't really impact them much at all. But on that seventh day, they're getting very mixed messages from the adults in their life. The one that says all the things we grew up with. And the one (me) that constantly says choose kindness, choose people, choose yourself, screw purity, screw normal, screw the rules.

The mixed messages will impact them. It does confuse them. And as much as I'd like to, I can't shelter them from that without lying about who I am and what I believe. But I also can't protect them from all of the ugliness in the world.

So when my braveheart that always speaks his mind asked a few weeks ago if I ever thought about just telling everyone. I responded very similarly to Seungwon's mom here. "I can do that. Do you really want me to? Just think about what would happen." It took him all of about 15 seconds. "It would be bad. Real bad. Yeah, don't do that."

So I'll stay silent and evade...for now. I'll stop when their answer changes or if, like Seungwon, they or another kid in the community needs me to flip the table for them so they can proudly embrace their own identity. Their needs are my priority when it comes to the larger community.

In the meantime, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure they feel loved and supported for who they are. We watched Star Trek during our family movie night the other month, and when we got to this scene...

my oldest laughed. "Mom. That sounds like something you would say."

That feels like a win in my book.

And if Heesu in Class 2 makes even one queer kid have hope that they'll be accepted or gives them the courage to step into the light in a world that's not a BL bubble, then that's a win in my book too.

No matter where I end up rating it once I can approach it more objectively.

[azaharinflames]

I didn’t start my day planning on being mean, but a certain portion of this fandom decided that they couldn’t keep Lou’s name out of their mouths so now I have thoughts.

We have RG brought on as a main, but frankly Eddie as a character has never gone anywhere. I was never much of an RG fan even before the unsavory things he said, but from what I have read, he hasn’t seemed to have brought much to the role beyond what was in the script. And yes, I get that he’s not a writer or the show runner, but Tim has shown himself to be amenable to good suggestions from the actors (which is why JLH ended up with Chim instead of Eddie, a decision from which his character never recovered).

Then you have the string of unsuccessful (potential) love interests who were all recurring. Similarly, I get that as a recurring you have even less agency than as a main and that’s even worse if you are a woman. All the same, the actors who played Ana, Taylor, Marisol, Lucy, and  death doula whose name alludes me but I’m too lazy to look up, brought NOTHING to the role outside of what was on the page. Granted, these characters were all written in way that made them doomed to fail, but if any one of them had brought something to the table to endear them to the GA and make the narrative work, they would have lasted/had the potential to be endgame level love interests. But it was early in the show’s run you say. Big deal. There are plenty of examples in television where a character was brought in for a handful of episodes early on and they either were kept (or else brought back) as a significant cast member.

And then there’s Lou. Looking back at the season 7 interviews, there is a clear gap between how Tim originally envisioned Tommy compared to Lou’s head canon. Tim saw a happy go lucky starter relationship guy with a hot and heavy make out session in 7x4. Tommy saw a protective guy with layers and past trauma who would deliver a tender 7x4 first kiss. Tim may get some things wrong, but he’s not such an egomaniac that he would go with the worse idea just because it was his. We will never know, but I don’t think Tim committed to making Tommy a significant/possible endgame LI until late season 7 or even while writing 8a. If Lou had done what RG or any of the actors who played Buck/Eddie’s past LI had done, i.e., read the script as is and contributed NOTHING, then Tommy would have been long gone. All this is to say that complaining about Lou having thoughts about his non-main character is tantamount to complaining that the man showed up and did his damned job to the best of his ability. The fact that he has clearly done so much work despite being really good looking in an industry that strongly favors attractiveness gives him extra points my book. Instead of hating on him, maybe they should be asking themselves why their guy didn’t do the same. 

I think you make an excellent point, Nonnie, and I love the way you put it.

At the end of the day, a big reason why we all love Tommy (and Bucktommy) as much as we do has to do with Lou (and with Oliver as well, when talking about the couple). Because Lou took the time and care to create Tommy and make him a bigger and deeper character than what the script said. Because he took so much care and advocated for what he thought made more sense for the character (i.e. their first kiss). It makes us love the character, and love him after seeing how much he cares, and ultimately it reflects very positively on the show.

I do think RG has given his input here and there (it was per his insistence that Marisol came back in S8), but it does feel like he rarely digs deeper into what he's given. At the very least, that's the impression I get (so anyone can disagree with it, that's fine!). I've never particularly connected with Eddie, and I am personally frustrated with the missed potential he has. If he stays, I honestly wish for the writers to figure out what the hell they want to do with him long term.

Anyway. I get your frustration, Nonnie. Bobs have been utterly insufferable since the interview, and the accusations I've seen coming from them? Ngl, there aren't words in the English language to describe what I think about them.

[mixingandmelting]

bonjourrrrrrrrrrrr

can I request a scenario where joker, hyuk and wooin react to their crush falling down during a race and getting back up while breathing like a mess trying to overtake the other crew?

Hyuk:

He can’t keep still, tugging his bottom lip as his eyes stay trained on the screen. He’s seen your skills, knows how you race - after all, that’s what had led to his obsession with you in the first place. So when he watches you get back up, sweat and dirt on your skin as you pant, it lights a fire in him. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, heart pumping in anticipation. A larger part of him wither in agony that he’s not the one you’re racing against, those eyes that you’re making aren’t on him. The reason for him not to break the rules and take you on there and then stems from his relief that you’re not hurt, meaning he could always track you down and poke you into a mini-race afterwards (well, that and he didn’t really want to get nagged by Wooin). 

That being said, scenarios of how the mini-race fills his mind, lips curling up and stretching to the point it resembles a certain Batman villain as he continues watching you make your comeback. 

“…And he tells me I’m twisted.” Wooin grumbles, having sensed what was happening next to him since the very start. 

Vinny and Joker could only nod their heads in silent agreement, deciding it was better to leave the Grim reaper up to his own accord rather than getting tangled up in whatever he was planning. 

Wooin: 

“Ha!”  His grin sharp and pupils in slits. 

You're heaving from exhaustion, the angle of the camera hiding the expression you’re wearing at the moment. Yet, based on the tension rolling off of you as you carefully pick your helmet back up and slapping on your head, you’re far from giving up. And, no surprise, he’s right. 

A shiver travels down his spine, recognizing the glint in your eyes once you look back up and jump on your bike. 

“This turns me on.” He mumbles, a forked tongue peeping out and wetting his lips from excitement while he tosses the stick of his finished lollipop harshly into the trash can next to him. 

The frustration, anger, vexation- he loved seeing that from you. Hell, he even wishes he was the one that had caused it. Then, all of your attention would’ve been on him from being both the cause and target of your wrath. Starting as an intrusive thought, if he manipulates things just right, he could probably be able to play you right into his palm. That thought alone gives him the thrills, especially in your current messy state. 

Hence his shamelessness, not at all bothering to censor himself as he watches you getting back at the cyclist that had caused you to crash in the first place. All while ignoring the rest of the team shuffling away from him with a look on their faces. 

Joker: 

He doesn’t grin unless it’s something interesting. What you’re doing right now? It’s more than interesting. Not bothering to even dust off the gravel on you after your fall, you’re up and pedaling at a cadence that could match his with complete focus on the opposing team’s cyclists. 

Lips stretching from one ear to the other, it’s enough to cause everyone who glances at him to flinch as well as giving them another reason to call him by his nickname. Heat builds up and exudes from him, the desire to go one-on-one in sprinting giving him thoughts where he’s considering cashing in a favor to have him pin against you in the next strategizes if team Sabbath were to go against yours. That or simply forgoing whatever was planned so he could race against you (that’s what they tend to do most of time anyways - winging it as they go). 

His fists clench and unclench at the same time you suck and puff out air, so, so hungry that grows the more he watches you take the other crew on. 

“What’s wrong with him…” Hearing Vinny’s mumble, Wooin looks up only for his expression to turn flat. 

“Don’t mind it. He’s always like that when he gets excited by something.” 

It does little to comfort the red head, expressing his regrets in joining the team once again with a new reason under his breath. 

[differenteagletragedy]

A Variety of Things That I Think About Simon Riley

I have Many Thoughts and have attempted to put some/most of these in longer works but can't quite figure out how even though I could write essays on all of them why did they make him so good

He doesn't like his teeth. They're crooked and a bit stained from smoking/general neglect, and he's also got a bit of a gap right in the front top ones. The thought of getting any kind of orthodontic work to fix them never even crosses his mind, because in no universe is he spending that kind of money on vanity when his fondest wish is for no one to perceive him anyway.

Also doesn't take care of his skin. Like he washes and all, but sun protection? No, never, not at all. Even though he's got a fair complexion with dustings of freckles and a handful of beauty marks, he'll never put on sun cream, because after everything, the fucking sun is not going to be what takes him out.

Allergic to bees. No idea why this consumes me but it does. Maybe he got stung as a kid and no one cared and in addition to being afraid of everything else he had to add tiny insects to the list and he's bitter about it.

Is experienced sexually, but not so much with relationships, so there's quite a learning curve when it comes to him figuring out how to have sex with someone he also cares about and who cares about him in return.

Like he will not want an actual partner to give him any kind of attention that he thinks is specifically for him, i.e. blow jobs, because that is for hookups? Sex in a relationship is for treasuring his beautiful angel darling love, not for that. He will need convinced otherwise.

Something about liking spitting in his partner's mouth LMAO but not in a degrading way, and obviously miles after the previous issue is addressed, but just something something seeing a part of him go into you, seeing you readily accept every single bit of him, we'll get there.

Aside from the occasional whiskey and the smokes (I just googled it to be sure and apparently smoking counts?), he's pretty straight edge. No drugs, and he keeps the drinking under control. He's seen how easy it can be to slip into the haze certain substances can bring, and he wants no part of it, to the point where he'll ask for over-the-counter painkillers even if a doctor tries to give him something stronger. He can handle it.

Because he's always handled everything. Everything that's been hoisted onto his shoulders for as long as he can remember -- all the hurt, all the responsibility, all the little things that feel bigger when they're packed all together and he has to walk through life with them on his back. There's no alternative. He doesn't know anything else.

[coffee-in-rain]

there is no better feeling than getting kudos from my tumblr moots & tumblr followers on my second AO3 account designated for my dark fics. i wanna wail "omg hi, guys, i'm so glad you enjoy my darker fics, too!"

unfortunately, some people are very much against dark fics to the point they harass writers of dark content, so i keep those fics separate from my main account, but please know ily and am kissing you all on the forehead whenever i see you've left a kudo or a comment. people who can enjoy very different flavors of writing are blessings in fandom. <3

maybe one day, i'll post the link here if y'all are interested in reading them! feels a bit daunting tbh. fandom spaces have changed so much since i was a kid and the rise in purity culture / want for censorship on fanfic (literal fiction; nothing real at all) is something i never thought was necessary even as a kid when i found ff.net and then AO3 years later as a young teenager. i remember reading my first dark fic on AO3 when i was like fifteen.

i never assumed or thought the author condoned what they'd written. (that is literal common sense); do authors of published books / screenwriters of movies or shows condone the dark things they write? most certainly not; it's written because every aspect of human life is interesting to explore; even the ugly / taboo parts of humanity; take, for example, horror movies where characters are murdered in brutal ways, like "sinister" (2012); or movies that portray someone being sexually assaulted; or movies / tv shows based on published books, like 'flowers in the attic' & 'game of thrones' / 'a song of ice and fire'; those contain dark fictional explorations, and mainstream media doesn't think those writers condone what they've created because we understand it's only a work of fiction and an exploration of how people have behaved all throughout history, even if it is uncomfortable to read or watch; taboo topics are interesting to write about because it is so far removed from what we're taught is an acceptable way to behave in society; writers of dark fanfic don't condone what we write about; it's a simple exploration of a topic, and if certain people cannot differentiate fanfiction from reality, then they probably shouldn't be reading fanfic at all; especially if they're going to harass writers who write about topics they don't agree with being written, because it is entirely fictional and not a condoning of those behaviors; there are tags and warnings on AO3 for a reason and people pushing for censorship are doing more harm than good. most young people nowadays weren't in the trenches on ff.net being blindsided by shocking turns of events like non-con, assault, etc. (which couldn't be tagged because there is simply not an ability to do that on ff.net), so they don't realize what a blessing AO3's tagging / warning system is. they just see content they don't like, which they can literally scroll past (and also exclude with filters), and scream "ew, censor it! because i don't like the fact that it was written, even though it is no different than movies or books or tv shows portraying the same themes."

when i read a dark fic for the first time at fifteen, i never thought the author was deserving of my judgement, hate, etc. because i knew it wasn't real at all. i was only reading words on a screen. when the content started making me feel uncomfortable, i simply stopped reading and i never considered leaving a disparaging comment because i'd willingly clicked on the fic after reading the tags and warnings. i really shouldn't have been reading that type of content at that age, but it'd piqued my curiosity. then i realized dark fics weren't for me at that time, but it was not the author's fault when i chose to read it. and i reminded myself it wasn't real and moved on with my life. i really wish that line of thinking returned in fandom spaces.

[artbyblastweave]

Hey man, love your content, and it seems you have the subject matter expertise to address a recent query of mine (spoilers ahead for some Iron Man comics just in case):

Iron Man comics aren't my favourite but I have kept up with some of the more recent runs, and alongside the way Tony Stark has been depicted outside of his own running series, the impression that I've gotten is that Marvel . . . doesn't really know what to do with him??

Far as I can tell, Stark's characterisation seems to be suffering perpetually from a sort of arrested character growth. Every comic run starring him seems to blatantly recycle story beats that revolve around his resources and especially his proprietary tech being seized by malicious actors and turned against him and assorted innocents. In the 2022 run it was Feilong's corporate takeover, in the current run it's Roxxon and AIM iirc, don't remember any other specific examples but I'm certain this and other such story beats have repeatedly reared their heads with minimal changes between runs.

Stark himself seems to perpetually be reacting to all of this with an attitude of "oh no, my tech has once again been stolen for nefarious ends, this is all on me, I must be better" only for the cycle to repeat again. He also can't seem to shake the habit of acting unilaterally without consulting anyone (except sometimes Rhodey and Pepper and even then only sometimes). The most recent run of West Coast Avengers where he attempts to rehabilitate Ultron, his attempt to arm a questionably framed Latverian rebellion in the One World Under Doom tie-in, there's a run where he acquires the Power Cosmic and gets very power-trippy all within the same issue, even the AXE stuff where they resurrect (?) a whole ass Celestial seems to cast him in a particularly unkind light as though he didn't act alone, the blueprint for the Celestial's equivalent of a nervous system (I think) was explicitly based on Stark's own biology; the Celestial itself narrates: "If I have a father, it is Tony Stark."

I get that any given character will always be fundamentally attached to certain themes that they can't ever stray too far from, because if they do then there's no point using that particular character, but it frustrates me that the way Marvel chooses to engage with Iron Man's particular themes is to have him just not learn his lessons over and over again. He's certainly not the only one suffering from this; off the top of my head whichever Hulk run came directly after Immortal Hulk seems to have barely followed up on or paid off anything that Al Ewing and co. set up. But for whatever reason out of all of them it's Iron Man who sticks out like a sore thumb to me specifically.

Any thoughts on all this? Is my analysis even critically sound? I hope it is but my knowledge of Iron Man and Marvel comics in general only extends so far; my observations are primarily from the last 2-3 years so I can't speak to what preceded that.

Your perception is absolutely correct. Iron Man flying too close to the sun and fucking up is basically the default beat, the thing that'll always be recognizably Iron Man to comic readers and moviegoers alike now that you can't spin him as an anticommunist playboy anymore; this was the backbone of the Civil War and Secret invasion arc, Johnathan Hickman's Avengers run leading into Secret Wars, and a whole bunch of stuff you just listed that I haven't been paying particularly close attention to. They've given him amnesia at least once in order to keep this cycle going. Maybe more than once.

Iron Man specifically has a couple unique storytelling problems that feed this cycle and contribute to the specific beats you've observed. First of which is that he's unique among superheroes in that a plurality of their audience are ideologically opposed to the existence of people like Tony Stark ; he's even more tightly tied to the playboy tech billionaire archetype than even Batman. This primes a lot of his contemporary storytelling to adopt an apologetic tone, and for a lot of his stories to sic him on even worse billionaires and magnates so the authors don't look like they've forgot about the negative effects of capitalism as commonly practiced.

I also think there's an argument to be made that the films specifically raised the saliency of the idea that Iron Man's Thing is getting caught in this cycle. It's not totally native to the films and the post-2007 comics seeking synergy with the films- see Demon in a Bottle and Armor Wars- but, in line with the realization that you can't make a weapons manufacturer an uncomplicated good guy in a post-GWOT post-cold war cultural context, the movies went really hard on the idea that he keeps fucking up and then overcompensating for previous fuckups in a way that generates new fuckups. The first movie is him trying to unfuck the damage he's done to the world as an arms dealer, Age of Ultron sees him produce Ultron directly and the Twins indirectly, Civil War has him back the Sokovia accords because he's projecting his own desire to be punished for the lack of oversight onto everyone else, Homecoming and Far from Home both have Spider-Man cleaning up villains generated by his business practices, and so on. They grafted on one of Hank Pym's big science-sins in order to reinforce this cycle, that's how committed they were to it.

In the movies this actually all mostly worked because there was an end to it. Not the most cohesive end, but he did die, and then there was a whole epilogue Spider-Man film wrestling with the idea that he was a complicated guy and that Peter shouldn't repeat his mistakes. Comic books don't have the luxury of a termination point; the arc can't conclude even in an unsatisfying way. They have to tread water. And if they have to tread water, best to do it in charted territory, with a type of story beat that'll be immediately recognizable to anyone just getting into the comics from the movies. Accessibility to the fabled "new reader" is an additional concern that contributes to this, with Iron Man and every other character; see also the TvTropes page on the Fleeting Demographic Rule, the gamble that they can get away with this kind of self-plagarism because the odds are good that the first time a casual reader encounters this kind of beat will be the only time they do so.

An additional element at play here, and one where I'm unsure of the long-term effects, is RDJ's departure from the movies. He's now been gone long enough that MCU Iron Man, even as late as Endgame, can be plausibly constructed as a nostalgia property. There is currently a wave of tweens who've plausibly never seen Iron Man headline in anything. This takes the pressure off of the comics to synergize with the movies, which is good on a level because some really dogshit stories happened as a result of that pressure, like Civil War 2. The flip side of that pressure is that there's nothing they specifically need the character to be doing, no A-list Hickman-headed Uberplot he has to play a key role in- I mean, he'll be there, but that'll be down to inertia. I think that lack of pressure will free up space for a new angle, but until someone comes up with that angle it might also encourage that same return to the mean.

What's going to pull him out of this is what pulls every character who ends up in this position out of it; someone genuinely invested will come along with a genuinely novel angle or approach, and their run will sell like hotcakes, become seminal, and eventually become another of the default beats that they constantly retread. After all, the first time they did a corporate takeover plot it probably hit really hard.