#these are bad which is why they’ve been in the drafts

[danswank]

[fingertipsmp3]

The last like 12 hours have been one disaster after another tbh and I think I am mostly to blame

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Fifteen Weeks

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: It's been fifteen weeks since Din Djarin first entered your life, now you can't imagine it without him. You take a leap of faith in your relationship and visit him at his farm. Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity, face sitting, premature ejaculation, unprotected p in v sex (reader is tested and has an IUD, protect yourselves IRL), mentions of sex work, anxiety, Din is bad at feelings, farmhouse emotions, goats!, yes I made Din Djarin a schnauzer owner don't judge me. Words: 5,050

A/N: Here it is folks, the follow up to Fifteen Minutes, which I originally wrote as a standalone. Thank you to @goodwithcheese for speaking so highly about Fifteen Minutes thus making me revisit this draft and finally finish it. I also want to thank @frannyzooey for taking a look at the bare bones of this months ago. I really love these two and I’m so glad they finally get to eat soup together.

Fifteen Masterlst Masterlist

___

“So, where ya’ headed?” the Uber driver asks, turning toward the departures terminal.

“Just to see a... friend."

“Hm. Must be a special friend to catch a flight this early.” 

“I guess he is,” you smile through a yawn.

___

Waiting to board. Can’t wait to finally see you! xxxx🙂

Hitting the send button, you shake your head still finding it hard to believe you’re traveling almost halfway across the country to meet a man. A man you’ve fallen head over heels for.

Can’t wait to see you too. See you soon.

His response arrives just in time. A nervous rush of excitement courses through your body before turning your phone off for departure. 

You wonder if your seatmate can feel your leg shake as the nerves tap out against the plane floor. Sure, you’re excited, you’re ready to meet Din in person but there still is trepidation twisting inside of you. You’ve never done anything like this at all. You’ve never met a client and now you’re on a plane headed to one. You’ve known him for only four months, but the connection the two of you share is something you’ve never believed to be something you’d find. You’ve dealt with enough men wearing wedding bands who tell you they love you, that you’re the most beautiful woman they’ve seen, that you’re their whole world. Love is a ridiculous concept when you charge ten dollars a minute. 

With Din, it’s different, it’s something that can be named, can be felt, can be solved, and yet so many questions about it remain. What do you call the quiet silence that exists between the two of you, happy to be on the phone keeping each other company every night? The small laugh and head shake he does whenever you tell him he’s cute? The random texts of his life that always brightens your day? The way he nods with zero judgment when he hears the ding of your new client alert? What do you call the decision that got you here on this plane? 

You read the same page over and over in your book. Will you sleep in his bed tonight? 

You give up on reading and stare forward at the little map on the seat screen. What does he smell like?

You look out the window and watch the clouds disintegrate around you. Is he just as nervous as you?

You turn the volume up and try to drown out your racing thoughts. Will this all be worth it?

Two hours left to find out. 

___

You step off the escalator, eyes scanning the crowded baggage claim area for the reason why you’ve taken a six hour flight halfway across the country. Your hands grip the backpack strap tighter trying to calm the nerves overtaking your heart and brain.

There, right there, leaning against a column alone in the shadows is Din and the brown eyes you’ve only dreamt of seeing in real life. He straightens when you make eye contact, but makes zero attempt to move, still frozen against the column. You lose the fight to hide your smile and excitement hurriedly shuffling over to him, he smiles as you get closer, the same shy half grin he gives when he says good night. His hands slip out of his pockets as you approach. Goodness, he’s so big and handsome, he could be a heartbreaker of all sorts to anybody he sets his sights on. The phone doesn’t do his beauty any justice.

“Hi,” you smile.

“H-hey, I can’t believe you’re… here,” his voice sounds even smoother and deeper in person.

“I am,” you shuffle on your feet. Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.

He tucks his hands back into his hoodie pocket, his silent rejection shoots a pang of longing through you. 

You thought it’d play out like a grand romantic movie, you’d jump into his outstretched arms and he’d never let go. Din’s rejection fills you with jealousy… screw all of the happy couples. You hate those movies now.

Touch me.

Of course he’s nervous, you’re nervous too, you’re just better at hiding it. He still leans against the column, shielded by the liminal space.

“Do you have luggage?” He’s right in front of you and yet you’re too scared to touch him, too anxious you’ll scare him away. 

“Nope, just my backpack and carry-on.” 

Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.

“Oh, okay, did you want to leave then?”

“I didn’t come here to see the airport Din,” you place a hand on his hoodie clad arm. He looks down and stares. 

Did you overstep? You couldn’t have, you just watched this same man orgasm for you last night while chanting how he couldn’t wait to paint you with his cum. 

“Din,” you snap him out of his stare, “come on, I’m ready to leave.” 

You know he’s not trying to reject you, but his nervous aloofness is overwhelming when all you want is for him to touch you… just once. 

“I—uh, here, let me take your bags,” he mumbles, reaching past you to grab your suitcase. “It’s really cold, do you have a heavier jacket?” 

“No, but I’ll be okay,” you reassure. The cold won’t sting nearly as much as Din’s seemingly innocent rejection.  

“Here,” he pulls the collar of his hoodie over his head. “I’m used to this cold. You aren’t.” 

You take the bundle of black fabric from his outstretched hand, not realizing just how cold you were until you put the hoodie warmed by his body heat on. It smells of him. Faint hints of campfire, wood, leather, citrus, and cinnamon. You wish you were wrapped up in Din himself, touching him, smelling him, tasting him. Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Whatever is happening inside of him seems to be bleeding over into your mind. You’re now second guessing every decision to come here. He was excited last night, he texted you this morning how he couldn’t wait to see you, is he disappointed? 

“Yeah, of course,” he nods and turns towards the door, walking away in quick strides leaving you alone in the dark corner near that damn column he’d rather touch than you. He has your suitcase and backpack, so either this is a really expensive way to get robbed or he has zero clue how his actions are affecting you. 

He turns back to you as he reaches the automatic doors, his eyes wide with guilt when he spots you still standing in the same place he left you. Well, at least he feels bad. 

You let a deep breath out to steel yourself and walk to him.

“I-I’m sorry, just not used to ever having to… you know…”

“I know, it’s okay Din,” you gently smile. What in the world have you gotten yourself into?

“I’m just—“

“Nervous. I know Din, it’s okay. I understand this is a lot.”

“It is, but just… know that how I’m acting is not how I’m feeling. I’m really happy to have you here. You’re so… beautiful and I—thank you for being here with me.”

There it is. Everything is worth it now. The early morning Uber to the airport, the neverending TSA line, the cramped airplane seat, the nervousness you feel. You’d do it all again to hear that sentence. 

“Of course, I know. You’re okay,” you take his hand. If he’s not going to do it, you’ll do it. “Come on, let’s go.” 

His eyes stay downcast staring at your hand wrapped around his.

You clear your throat to get his attention, his eyes snap up to yours. “Din, let’s go.”

“R-right. Of course. Right.” 

He leads you out the door, gripping your hand harder when the bitter wind lashes against your skin. 

The two of you weave your way through the parking lot until you reach a large silver truck. It’s clean with a few dents and scratches. Well taken care of but old. 

Din opens the creaky door and helps you step up. The black leather seat is smooth as you slide across it.

Din places your luggage in the back before opening his door and deftly stepping in. 

You hide a deep exhale when he starts the engine.

He clears his throat and you look over. “It’s–uh nice to see you in here.”

“I’m glad,” you smile, turning and reaching your hand out to touch his cheek. Your thumb finds the little heart patch on the side of his face, you’ve been thinking about how it’d feel since you first saw it. You can’t help yourself, he looks so delicate, as if he’s aching to be touched but too scared to ask for it. You’re holding a scared fawn in your hands. Don’t scare him, don’t move too quickly, let him figure things out on his own. 

His lips part as he inhales, deep brown eyes staring into yours, the nervousness radiating off his skin fills the truck cabin. You wish you could just throw caution to the wind and force him to tell you exactly how he’s feeling, to slide across the bench seat and beg him to take you right here in this airport parking lot. You don’t. You pull your hand away and put your seatbelt on.

“I can’t wait to see your home. I’ve never been to an actual farm before.”

___

You’ve seen glimpses of Din’s home in random pictures he’s texted you or your nightly FaceTime sessions, but you never imagined just how picturesque it could be. A large white two story farmhouse situated in the middle of a vast expanse of green grass, a small tin roofed barn sits to the side with a herd of goats happily grazing. Din’s life must be so peaceful here, very different compared to your townhouse in the middle of suburbia.

“It’s beautiful,” you muse as he pulls into the driveway. “I can understand why you never wanted to leave.” 

The truck stops in front of his home, a german shepherd and a little schnauzer run down the porch steps and head for Din’s truck.

“They’ll be fine with you, but let me get out so I can control them.” 

Din gets out of the truck, you chuckle to yourself as his clipped directions to the dogs are drowned out by excited barks. 

He opens your door and reaches his hand out.

“Grogu! Boba! Back!” Din shouts as he helps you step down. His raised voice makes your heart skip a beat. You didn’t know he could ever be this loud.

“It’s okay, I like your dogs, you know I think they’re cute,” you bend down and tap on your knees to beckon them over. “This must be Grogu,” you scratch his soft ears. “He does have big ears.”

“They’re not that used to other people.”

“Hmm,” you stand up and pat the top of Boba’s head, “sounds like someone I know.”

He chuckles as he walks up the porch steps and unlocks the front door. 

Warmth fills your body as you walk over the threshold. White walls, worn floorboards, antique furniture, all of it taken care of and clean. Tidy and well kept up, a lot like his truck, aged but in better shape and made to last; a far change from your newbuild townhouse and IKEA furniture. 

“Diiin,” you breathe, “it’s beautiful in here. Like… I knew you lived in a nice house, but wow, between this and the farm… when do you sleep?”

“I sleep enough. I’ll go get your bags, make yourself… at home.”

You take a seat on his couch, it’s perfect for him. Beige, simple lines, nothing fancy, not too comfortable, but probably the height of cozy after a long day working on a farm. Grogu jumps up and sits next to you, his little bearded face panting happily next to yours. You scratch his chest and praise him as he inches closer towards you. Boba stays near the entry, waiting for Din.

“Think he likes you,” Din says as he places your bags by the steps. “Don’t take Boba’s standoffishness personally he’s–”

“Like you. I know,” you smile.

“Did– what would you like to do?”

“Can I see the computer where you first talked to me?”

“Um, yeah,” he walks down the hallway leaving you behind yet again, “it’s just in here.”

You shake your head and rise off the couch to follow, obviously he’s not used to company.

You walk into a small office, everything has a place, efficient and tidy, perfectly Din. Paperwork stacked in neat stacks, a calendar with his sharp writing all over it hung on the wall, today’s date circled with your name written in the box. 

A black monitor sits on a mahogany desk. 

“This is the computer, huh?” you ask, running your hands across the black keyboard,

“It is.”

“So this is where it all began? You sat there, clicked on my picture, and now look. I remember when I first heard your voice,” you face him taking both of his hands in yours, “it was so deep and warm, it lit something inside of me.”

You guide his arms to wrap around you, his hands rest on your lower back.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after our first session ended. There was something so pure and mysterious about you, I knew you weren’t lying about wanting to know. It wasn’t some kink you had, I knew you needed help. I felt lucky to be the one to show you.” 

He sighs as you rest your head against his chest hearing the rhythm of his heart. “I closed that window so many times before finally agreeing and joining. I-I kept on thinking about how I could talk to someone as beautiful as you, all it would take is just a click. You were so pretty.” 

“Just a click,” you whisper, craning your neck up as Din lowers his head. His nose bumps against yours, his plush bottom lip is captured between your lips, another part of him you’ve wanted to touch since you first saw him. You finally kiss him, sweet and tender, his lips molding to yours perfectly. He pulls you in closer, his tongue hesitantly dipping into your mouth as you lick against him. The past fifteen weeks have finally led to this moment inside of this old farmhouse office in the middle of nowhere. Your Din and his soft lips, tense hands against your back, your soft coos mingling with his low groans, you could stay in this moment forever, if it wasn’t for Din’s phone beeping in his pocket. 

“I’m sorry,” he pulls away, a bashful smile adorns his face, “I need to go take care of the goats before sundown.”

“Of course.” 

He hugs you, planting a soft kiss against your forehead and inhaling your scent before leaving. He’s warming up…

___

Din loves soup. You know this by the nights you spend with him over the phone. The man eats soup almost every single night. Soup with bread, soup and a baked potato, soup and steak, soup, soup, soup. 

You can’t blame him, the stew and homemade rolls he serves you for dinner are delicious. He shyly tells you it’s his speciality when he places the porcelain bowl in front of you. 

You could get used to the farm life. A fire burns in the fireplace while the tv plays Din’s favorite movie he’s been wanting to show you, some film about a galaxy far far away and an unlikely hero. The man loves space. 

His arm slung across your shoulder lies heavily on you, warming you inside and out. Grogu sleeps on your lap, softly snoring as you pet his gray fur. Din occasionally sneaks a kiss against your hair, you don’t know if you’ve ever been more comfortable in your life. 

The movie ends, a grand symphonic score plays over the credits. 

“That was really good,” you smile towards Din. “I liked it.”

A grin slowly stretches across his face. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, thank you for showing me it.”

“You’re welcome,” he gazes at you, the same look he smolders through the phone, like he can’t believe his luck that you’re talking to him. 

You attempt to fight a yawn and lose. Your eyes blink tiredly at Din when he reaches and rubs his thumb against your cheek. 

“Did you want to,” he clears his throat, “sleep in my room with me tonight?”

“Only if you want me to Din.”

“I, uh, I do.”

“Okay, I’d like that.”

___

The airplane and long day washes off and rinses down Din’s shower drain. You use his washcloth and think of his hands touching you. You smell his soap and think of inhaling the scent as he holds you close. You don’t know what’s about to happen once you leave this room. If you’re this nervous, how does he feel? 

Din looks up from the book he’s reading and watches you step out of the bathroom shyly padding over and getting into bed.

“What are you reading?” you whisper.

“Some book about a cowboy warrior in space…”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It’s good.”

“You know,” you look around the simple bedroom, “I see this room all the time, but only the wall behind your bed, hardly anything else. It’s been really nice seeing more of your life.”

He nods, blinking back to his book. 

The night can’t end like this. 

You grab the book from his hands and place it on the table.

“What are you thinking about Din? I never know what’s going on inside of you.”

“H-how pretty you look wearing that.” 

You look down at the pink silk tank top and shorts and swallow down a smile. You specifically wore it because you know how Din’s eyes light up whenever you put it on. “It’s my favorite because it’s so soft. Do you want to feel it?” 

He turns to you wide-eyed and gives you a solitary nod. 

“Go ahead Din.”

His tan hand splays across your stomach, golden toned skin rests against the blushy silk of your tank.

“S’soft,” he murmurs to himself.

“Here,” you place your hand over his and press down, “really feel it.”

His eyes angle down watching your hand navigate his around your stomach to just below your breasts. His mouth sits slightly agape, thick brows furrowing in concentration as you slip his hand underneath the fabric, his trembling calloused fingers making contact with your skin. 

“Am I soft here Din?”

“Y-Yes,” he stammers. 

“Touch me, as little or as much as you want. Wherever you’re comfortable doing, okay?” you remove your hand from his. “I came here for you… whatever you want… I want..”

“I want to,” he gulps, “I want to touch you all over.”

“I’m all yours baby.” 

His shoulders deflate with a groan, he trails his hand higher to cup one of your breasts. The tips of his fingers peek out of the top of your tank. Tan, well worked strong hands lay against your smooth skin. The sight makes you moan, your teeth gnawing at your lip, trying to qualm the temptation to touch him further. 

“Take it off Din.” His dark brown eyes beam up to yours. “Go ahead baby.” 

He grabs the hem of your tank top, softly bundling it in his hands and lifting it over your head leaving you bare chested. 

“Kiss me and touch me baby,” you gently will. 

His lips form over yours, his hands return to your skin, petting and caressing your breasts before you cover them, pushing them farther down your stomach. His breaths quicken against your mouth when you slip his hands underneath the band of your shorts. 

“Fuck,” he pants against your lips when his hand meets the wetness seeping from your pussy. “Fuuuuuck.” 

“You feel me baby? That’s how wet you always make me, ever since the first time we talked and all you were was a black square with a sexy voice. It’s like we were destined in the stars.” 

“God damnit, you’re so soft,” Din’s hips buck into the air, his head thuds against the headboard when his thick finger slips in between your folds. “I-I-I oh god, I’m– I think I’m going to cum. I’m sorr–” 

“It’s okay baby, I’m here, cum for me.” Your hand reaches down and grips his hard cock through his black sweatpants. “Cum for me Din.” 

You feel a warm wet spot spread against your hand, pulling a moan from you.. 

“I’m--agh– sorry,” his big eyes stare at you, a hint of shame rounds them. “You feel so amazing.” He pulls his hand out of your shorts.

“No,” you whimper at the loss of contact. “I like it baby, I like that you like me so much that happened. Please don't apologize. Keep touching me if you want to. Do you?” 

“God,” his eyes shrink in determination, “yes I do.” 

“Okay baby.”

You sit in between his stretched out legs, lifting your hips to take off your shorts, spreading your legs wide, much the same way you do for your clients. 

He stares at your exposed skin, eyes mapping every dip, curve and dimple of your body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I can’t believe you’re here… for me.”

“Of course I am baby.” 

His fingers trace the plains of your legs, moving their way up to your thighs. His face set in a determinative scowl, eyes fixated on your core as he inches closer to it, now aching and soaked for him. 

“I-I’ve never done this.”

“I know baby, you remember our first call?” 

He nods.

“Remember what I told you what I liked?”

Another nod.

“Do that for me baby, touch me. Make me feel good.” A thick finger meets your lips, tracing a line up from your entrance to your clit before softly rubbing a circle around your sensitive nub. He remembered.

“You’re so wet for me,” he breathes out, his eyes staying planted staring at your pussy beguiled by his own actions.

“I am Din, only for you. I think about you every time. I-I,” you moan when he sticks a finger inside, slowly pumping it in and out, “I only want you.” 

“Only want you too, baby. C-can I taste you?”

“Ye–oh my god, yes Din, I’m yours, do whatever you want to me.” 

“I’m yours, anything you wa–”

“Sit on my face,” he growls. 

“O-of course.” 

You crawl towards him, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips before straddling his face, your dripping cunt hovers right over his mouth. He grips your ass and pulls you down, smothering himself with all of your slickness. You cover him like a mask, he worships your taste like a religion, moaning and groaning into your sweet pussy. Your praises about how good he’s doing and how amazing you feel incant out of your mouth as he takes you to paradise. Plush lips suck and savor you, your hands grip the bed frame like a precious artifact, his devotion to you and your pleasure pulls a melting orgasm from you. 

“Din, Din, Din,” you pray at his altar, knees bowed and quaking against his ears as he drinks your offering down. You’re shattered, everything you’ve ever believed in replaced by Din and his idolatry of you. 

You move your lust drunk body off and lay down next to Din. His face shines with a gloss of you, his tongue peeks out and licks his lips, before sending you a shy smile.

“You’re amazing,” he incredulously mutters. 

“You are too,” a doting grin lights your face before pulling him in for a kiss. You can taste yourself on him, a moan leaves your throat at the realization. 

Strong arms envelop you, pulling you closer to him, his hard cock juts against the soft skin of your thigh. 

“Already?” you pull back and tease. 

“C-can I feel you?” 

“Feel me?” 

“Yes, c-can I… can we….?”

A rush of anticipation thrums through your body at the implication of his nervousness.

“Yes Din, we can. Are you sure this is what you want tonight? We can wait.”

“N-no. I want you, I-I want this,” he moves his sweatpants down, kicking them off. 

“Okay baby, okay,” you kiss him, grabbing his face, petting the soft hair of his sparse beard.

He rolls on top of you, cradling your head between his strong forearms, a heated kiss licks into your mouth as his naked weight covers you. Your legs open in a silent offer for Din to take everything you have. You can just feel the heft of his cock ghosting against your entrance. 

He looks down at you, brown eyes wide, plush mouth parted, brows softened with adoration. 

You send him a silent nod and smile when his cock enters you, feeling a sense of honor that you’re the one Din has chosen for this. You wouldn’t have it any other way. The green accept button, the reserved man dressed in all black, the deep voice, the connection between two screens. Now, you’re here with Din, moaning and rolling your hips to accept the length of him.

His neck strains when he sheathes his cock fully inside of you, panting and groaning as he slowly rocks back and forth.

“You … feel … like … heaven… I love your pussy… I love your body…. I… love you.”

He freezes at the divulgence, body locked in shock at his slip. 

Your face lifts in a reassuring grin. “I love you too,” your hand grabs his chin, bringing his lips to yours. 

You love him, you’ve known it for so long, but here in this farmhouse bed you can hear it, you can feel it. 

Your bodies meld, hips meeting, lips locked, he gives you everything, you give him everything. Your pussy clenches around his slow, full strokes. This is making love. 

“Baby, I-I.. I’m going t–” he strains. 

“Go ahead Din, I got you.” Your hands trail up and down the expanse of his smooth back. He grunts, burying his head into the crook of your neck, fevered breaths hit your skin as his cum fills you.

He rolls off, pulling you to his side and kissing the top of your hair. 

“Wow… I.. are you okay?”

“What?” your head perks up.

“You didn’t… uh–”

“I did when you fucked me with your tongue Din, I’m very happy and satisfied.” 

“Oh, I just… I want to make sure you’re good.”

“Baby, I am very good. Trust me.” 

“I love you,” he breathes.

“I love you too Din…” you rest your head against his chest, the exhaustion of the day settling in, quickly lulling you to sleep. This is the way to go to bed.

___

The faint sound of running water gently rouses you from the most peaceful slumber you’ve had. The sun has barely peaked over the horizon, the room’s still shrouded in a lazy darkness. 

Din’s long sigh echoes against the tiles of the shower like a siren song. 

You pad out of bed toward the bathroom, pushing the door wide open. 

Your mouth drops at the sight ahead of you… Din’s muscular, toned golden body shines underneath a glistening sheen of water. He runs a gray wash rag across his stomach, the mop of dark, curly hair right underneath his hand beckons you to look farther down. You’ve seen him so many times before, almost every night, but this is the first time you’ve been able to see all of him in person. Din is a big man, his cock matches his stature. Just as long, just as broad, just as golden. God, he’s gorgeous. 

You knock on the doorframe catching his attention, surprise tensing across his whole body. 

“Good morning,” you purr, “can I join you?”

He nods, his cock grows visibly hard when you walk over and get in. The warm steam, Din’s naked body, and the smell of Din’s cedar body wash engulfs you, this is the way to wake up. 

“Mmm, the hot water feels good,” you sigh, leaning your head against his chest. Din’s cock rests heavily in between you, tempting you to touch it. “Want me to wash you?”

He groans a yes. 

“You can wash me too,” you propose, squeezing a dollop of body wash onto your palm, running it across your chest before leaving suds on your hands. “Go ahead Din.”

Drops of water land against your skin as his trembling hands slowly reach for your breasts. He massages and kneads, both palms laying against your tits, his touch turns more searing when your hands land on his chest, rubbing in the soap along the dusting of hair stretched across his broad body. 

Your nipples pebble under his nervous, firm touch and undivided attention. He hisses when your hands slink farther down, running across the damp curls of his happy trail leading you to his cock standing between his thighs, thick and dripping. You wrap a fist around his length, his knees weaken causing his body to smash against the wall, his face grimacing in pleasured agony.

“Fuck,” he pants, water rains down into his wide open mouth, splashing out with every exclamation of your name he repeats as he cums all over your stomach. 

Your tongue runs up the column of his neck to his mouth, swallowing his rapid breaths. 

“You feel so good against me,” he gasps against your lips. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“I am baby, I am,” you coo, wrapping your arms around him, wishing you could live in this tiny shower forever. This is the way to wake up.

___

Din settles on the porch swing next to you, pulling your blanket wrapped body close to him. 

“Is this what you do every morning?” 

“Just about,” he says before taking a drink of his coffee. 

“It’s nice,” you yawn, “early but nice.” 

He chuckles, “You get used to it.” “Mm,” you rest your head on his chest, smelling the fresh dew and hay on his flannel jacket. 

“I really like you being here,” he softly says.

“I really like being here too.”

“You know,” he gulps, “you can do your job here… with me.”

___

A/N: Thank you for reading! This ending makes me feel:

[nadvs]

Hey girl! I’m obsessed with basketball!rafe, your write him so well! On the night of readers first visit in basketball!rafes condo, you said they slept together. Can we have a blurb on that? I NEED to know how that went

thank you so much!! omg yessss. they’ve been long distance and it’s been hard but they miss each other so much so when she finally visits, it’s intense 🤭

based on this fic, mentioned in this blurb! 18+!

» au masterlist

at this point, they’ve been together for almost seven months. and a month and a half of that has been at a distance.

since rafe moved away, it feels like all they do is argue. most of their calls have been tense. they’ve gone days giving each other silent treatment too many times to count.

so when she’s stepping out of the airport gate that late afternoon, she’s more nervous than she is excited for her three-day stay, and she hates that she feels like that.

she finds rafe standing by a pillar, wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses. he’s gotten even bigger, his muscles bulging under his sleeveless shirt. now that he’s signed with the nba, he’s at practice every morning, hitting the gym twice a day, preparing for the season two months away. always busy. often too busy for her.

he doesn’t wait for her to reach him. he helps close the distance, meeting her in an open pocket in the crowd and wrapping her in his arms. he’s holding her so tightly that she can feel his heartbeat on her chest.

she didn’t know what to expect when he saw her, considering how rocky things have been. but this feels like the best possible way he could greet her. he seems happy. the chasm between them is still there, but it’s closing.

rafe nuzzles into her neck, smelling the mix of shampoo and perfume that makes her her, and is so overwhelmed that his throat feels thicker and tears start to form in his eyes. thank fuck he’s wearing shades.

“hey, baby,” he says, muffled.

“hi,” she says softly. “how are you?”

it’s a loaded question. he’s lonely. he didn’t realize how lonely until he held her. he’s stressed. he’s out of his depth. but he settles for, “not bad. you?”

“better now,” she says.

she knows her boyfriend’s life has changed. but it’s not until they’re walking out of the building and he gets stopped by a middle-aged man asking for a photo with him that she realizes just how much things have shifted. the man’s wife shakes her head, saying don’t bother them, but the man says please, it’ll be quick.

rafe obliges, once again grateful he’s wearing shades so nobody sees his teary eyes.

“you’ll take us to the final, won’t you?” the man says, clearly starstruck.

“i’ll try,” he replies. it’s clear to her that rafe’s a little uneasy, which surprises her. she thought he and his ego would love the attention.

“you’re like famous famous,” she teases once they walk far enough away.

“that’s only like, the second time that happened,” he says, not matching her playfulness.

she can tell that he’s trying to downplay it. but the season hasn’t even started and he’s already being recognized. it’s a big deal.

“is that why you’re all disguised?” she realizes.

“yeah,” he admits, seemingly embarrassed. he really didn’t want anyone to recognize him today.

they reach his car in an underground parking garage and she settles in the passenger seat as puts her suitcase in his backseat. he sits and starts the car.

“what have you done with my boyfriend?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood. “how are you not bragging about what just happened?”

“i don’t know,” he says. “you’re here. that’s what i’m focused on. and who knows… i could be one of those guys who gets one contract and then burns out. better not to get used to all that.”

her eyebrows knit together. he’s being short with her. and he’s never spoken like this. she’s seen him unsure about himself only a few times before. he was painfully nervous on draft night. but he never mentioned anything about his career burning out. this isn’t the man she knows.

“you’re a great player,” she tells him. “you won’t burn out.”

he nods unconvincingly and shifts the car into reverse, trying to avoid this heavy of a conversation right away. she knows him well enough to know what he’s doing. she puts her hand on his.

“hey,” she says softly. “wait a second.”

he sighs, his throat thickening again. he puts the car in park and turns it off.

“you good?” she asks.

he pinches the bridge of his nose. she realizes that his hand is trembling. he finally takes his sunglasses off and rubs his eyes, wiping at them.

“i’m tired,” he admits.

she stares at him through worried eyes.

“i’m sorry. we’ll take it easy tonight,” she tells him. “we can just order food and watch tv and go to bed early. it’s going to be okay.”

he nods, licking his lips nervously.

“it makes sense if you’re overwhelmed. it’s a lot of pressure. your life is so different now,” she says. “and i know i was part of the old one, but i want to be part of this new one, too, okay? i’m here for you.”

she’s not saying it solely to reassure him. she realizes she’s hoping he’ll reassure her back. things are still off between them. she can feel it. maybe it’s because she’s slowly drifting into the past to him. maybe he won’t carry her into his new life.

rafe is speechless. his chest hurts. he hates that she would insinuate that he doesn’t have a place for her. that she has any doubts at all. he’s the one who called her after their last big argument, following days of not talking to each other. he’s still bitter about it. he keeps putting up a fight, yet it’s like she thinks she’s the only one trying.

“the only way to fail is to give up, right?” she says.

rafe snorts.

“where’d you read that?” he says mockingly. cutting.

he regrets it immediately. she sits straighter, creating distance between them.

“i’m sorry,” he says. “i’m just... i want you here. i do. i’m already thinking about how you’re going to leave and it sucks. i’m just so… on edge.”

“so, your way to handle it is by being mean to me like, a minute after i get here?” she asks. his knee-jerk reaction to stress has always been to be rude and combative. it’s her least favorite thing about him.

“my head’s not right. i’m sorry.”

even though she’s hurt and bitter, she pushes past it and nods.

“let’s start over,” she says. “i can tell you all about my flight. real exciting stuff.”

he finally cracks a genuine smile.

when they make it to rafe’s penthouse, she’s shocked. she saw the view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows over their facetime calls, but the real thing doesn’t compare. it’s unreal, the way the setting sun is glistening over the skyline.

it’s crazy. she’s stayed right where she’s been since she met him, on the same campus doing the same things, but now he’s here. the stinging anxiety hits her again that maybe he’ll leave her in the past.

“this is really nice,” she says.

rafe gazes at her as she looks out the window. he’s felt out of place since he got here. the dynamic with his new team is nothing like it was back in college. this condo feels more like a hotel instead of his home.

but with her here, the most important piece of all he knows, the place doesn’t feel cold anymore.

he looks out at the view. it is nice. but it’s been hard to appreciate it since there’s been a weight living over him, blurring things.

“you can continue the tour now,” she says.

he offers her his hand. she takes it. his palm is rough and calloused from all his training.

as she paces through the condo, everything about the place is stunning. bare, but stunning.

“i can help you decorate if you want,” she offers as they travel down the hallway. “wanna go shopping tomorrow?”

“yeah,” he agrees. something as mundane as shopping for decor excites him simply because it’ll be with her.

they reach his bedroom. the california king bed is centered against the back wall. the room offers another beautiful view with a balcony.

“you ever sit out there in the morning? watch the sunrise?” she asks, stepping towards the open balcony door. she can hear the dull roar of cars zooming through the massive freeway laid out far below.

“nah, i go straight to practice,” rafe says. “and on days off, i just sleep in.”

“right,” she recalls. he gets up almost every morning before the sun rises. his schedule has been brutal. she feels guilty for fighting with him about how hard it’s been to schedule calls with him. she pictured him living a glamorous life, forgetting all about her. but he just seems isolated. exhausted.

she turns to face him again, gazing around the characterless room.

“would you want pictures in here? maybe some art on the walls?” she asks.

“i thought decorating started tomorrow?” rafe teases. she loves that he’s seeming to ease up a bit.

“can never be too prepared.” he smirks, looking down at her with a tired, but relaxed expression.

“i haven’t had time to do anything with the place,” he says. “and i wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“all good,” she says. “you stick to basketball, i’ll stick to making this place look like someone actually lives in it.”

“deal,” he says with a soft laugh.

she smiles. her eyes drift down, noticing faint white lines on his shoulders under his sleeveless shirt. she traces her fingers over the new stretch marks.

“they’re not working you too hard, are they?” she asks.

her tender touch makes rafe’s body go hot. she feels it immediately, how the tension between them has shifted.

“no,” he mumbles. “the trainer said i actually need to slow down on the lifting. i can’t get too heavy. i won’t be able to run as fast.”

“so, what i’m hearing is you need a few rest days,” she says with a cute shrug. “you need to relax. it’s for the good of your game.”

he chuckles. within minutes of getting home, his girl makes everything better.

“thank you for coming,” he says sincerely, his hands finding her hips. her heart feels ten times lighter.

“for getting on a flight you booked? in first class? to live in your penthouse?” she says. “you’re welcome. big sacrifice.”

rafe smirks at her again, leaning closer. their lips press in a slow, sweet, long kiss. he pulls back once he feels her hand on his cheek.

“you stressed out, baby?” she whispers. his eyes are still closed an he only nods, grimacing. she strokes his cheek with her thumb.

“you want me to help you relax?” she says. he leans lower, his forehead on hers. his stomach is numb. his boxers suddenly feel too tight.

“yeah.” rafe’s tone is low. needy.

“lie down,” she tells him. “i’ll make you feel better.”

his entire body is buzzing. once he’s on his back in his bed, they’re slowly pulling off each other’s clothes.

she thought when they’d inevitably get into bed, it’d be impatient and rushed, but every movement is careful. they want to savor each other. it’s so much better this way.

she leads him to lie on his pillow when he’s left in his boxers and she’s in her panties. she pulls down his boxers, watching him spring out, the coil in her body already tightened to its limit. she missed him so badly.

she holds him at his base, meeting his eyes as she slowly takes the tip in her mouth. she watches his toned body curve as he bucks his hips with a groan.

“fuck,” he whispers. “wait, wait.”

he shifts to his side, turning his nightstand lamp on so that he can see her better, instead of doing this in the dim of the sunset.

he lies back down, placing eager fingers at her roots, desperately guiding her back to where she was.

their eyes lock as she lowers again, her tongue hot against him, slowly sinking until she has all of him in her mouth. she softly gags and pulls back, leaving his length wet with her spit.

“you’ve been working so hard, hmm?” she asks, looking at him as she palms him slowly, dragging her hand over his slick hardness.

“yeah,” he says, voice strained. “fuck, i missed you so much.”

she feels better hearing his words. all the tension between them has dissipated, at least for now.

“i missed you, too,” she whispers. she wraps her lips around him again, feeling him twitch against the inside of her cheek.

rafe can’t take his eyes off of her. she moves slowly, carefully, her tongue flicking around him, her wrist twisting and stroking. his grip is tight at the roots of her hair as she starts to move faster.

he can feel himself getting closer. he doesn’t want to finish like this.

“come here,” he murmurs, cradling her head, leading her closer.

she obeys, hovering over him on her knees. his hands drag over her ass, running over the lace of her panties, squeezing hard as she lowers to press her lips on his.

they kiss hard and slow, over and over until she can’t anymore, breathless and grinding on him. his thumbs loop under the band of her underwear, pushing the fabric down.

she wriggles out of the lace and he grasps her waist to turn her onto her back, kissing her again, finding her wrists and pinning them tightly against his bed.

“i don’t think i’ll last long,” he rasps against her mouth.

“that’s okay,” she says. “i just want you to feel good.”

he so badly wants to tell her he loves her. but they’ve never taken that step, and if he does take it and she doesn’t follow, he might not survive the fall.

instead, he moves to rest his hand between her legs, inhaling sharply once he feels how wet she is.

“fucking dripping for me,” he praises. she spreads her legs wider and he trails up to her clit, starting to trace circles.

she arches her back, pushing against his hand, already getting close. her body is just as desperate and impatient for it as his is.

“i’m close,” she whispers within seconds, her eyes shut. he stares at her in awe, so damn pleased that he can do this to her and get her there so quickly.

“yeah? you gonna come on my hand?”

“yes, yes,” she breathes, her lips parted. “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

rafe wants to kiss her, but seeing her pretty face twisting in pleasure is too good to miss. one hand keeps her wrist pinned above her head while the other works with fast, firm movements, bringing her closer.

“i can’t wait to be inside you,” he groans. “you’re all i think about, you know that?”

she dips her head back, a soft moan spilling out of her mouth as she unravels, her body weakening with her orgasm. it hits her so hard that she trembles more than ever before.

she takes a moment to collect herself, then finds the strength to sit up just enough to grip him, guiding him to press against her. he groans as he starts to sink in her and she links her legs around him, pulling him in.

she presses her free hand against the head of his bedframe to steady herself so he can slam into her without any recoil, promising him the best sensation she can give him.

with one hand on her jaw and the other on her palm, interlacing his fingers with hers, he bottoms out, grunting against her ear.

“as hard as you want,” she whispers. “you know i can take it.”

her words make him dizzy. he doesn’t build up to the pace. suddenly, their slow, patient movements are gone, and he starts to thrust in and out of her fast and rough, to the hilt every time because of the way she’s keeping herself anchored against his headboard.

it’s like he’s drowning in her. he doesn’t want to come up for air. his breaths grow more shallow, his skin gets clammier, his pulse speeds up.

his bed is shaking with every slam, hitting deep inside her, wrapped in her heat and never wanting it to end. he squeezes her hand, wishing she knew just how grateful he is for her. not just for this. for everything.

“you’re mine,” he rasps. she tightens her legs around him, looking up at him as his handsome, sharp features crease in pleasure. “you belong to me.”

“yes,” she whispers. “i do. i do.”

rafe leans down to kiss her, his body going tight. she feels him grow harder, the pressure outright perfect, and he groans into her mouth as he comes, filling her with his heat.

he collapses on her, heavier than he was the last time they slept together. but she keeps her legs linked around him, withstanding the weight, running her hand down the curve of his spine while the other stays interlaced with his.

he’s panting hard. and he can’t control it when tears sting his eyes. she notices him shuddering, and she squeezes him tighter, kissing his cheek over and over again, her heart breaking for him.

“you okay, baby?” she whispers.

“yeah,” he says, and for once, he’s being honest about it.

all of this has been so hard and discombobulating, but with her here, life feels easy. and finally, he’s confident in something again. he knows they’ll make it. there’s no way they can’t.

“yeah,” he repeats. “hungry.”

she softly laughs, moving to wrap both arms around him. he’s so big and hard and heavy, but she tries her best to hold him, to comfort him.

“let’s get dinner,” she says. she knows his diet has been strict. “cheat day?”

rafe smirks against her neck. he didn’t know how badly he needed a vacation, and that he didn’t even have to leave his house to feel like he’s on one. he just needs her.

[dictatortirah]

Gura x Nero for the Squirm fans

I wrote da first draft and @jestbii made everything better and gayer

---

“Whelp, that’s another job well done, Nero!” Hemlock proclaimed, clapping their hands together triumphantly- a cloud of chalk puffing from their hand, mostly to hide fingerprints. It erupted a sneeze from their snout, rather embarrassingly as they immediately faced away to deal with it. 

  Nero let out a weary groan that filled the air, his body protesting as he yanked the hatchet free from the cultist’s lifeless form beneath him, which was in the worst of state, considering death via hatchet was on today's menu. The force of the tugging nearly sent him tumbling backward, but he had quickly steadied his lumber body, glancing down in disgust at the grim sight before him. This never did get any easier…and it reminded him of very bad times. Blood pooled around the body like dark ink on parchment, and he couldn’t help but hope fervently that this cultist would stay dead- they’ve come back before, after all. With a final, forceful tug, he freed the hatchet, its blade slick and glistening in the dim light.

  His jacket was ruined, splattered with crimson chunks and remnants of the awful task adorning his whole entire body. Even if he wasn’t a fashionista like Vitr, it were up to him, he would never allow himself to get this dirty again. I mean, he had promised Sniper he’d leave killing behind—especially after his past experiences in the cult’s twisted rituals. He still thought about those sometimes at night…well, at least until he showed up. Besides that, the thought made him shudder. Never again would he go back to those days.

He glanced at Hemlock, his boss, who was scanning the area for any witnesses around the area, obviously a bit frantic. They nearly got caught last time, and things like this would surely cost them their citizenship- or lives. The act of assessing their surroundings with every darting eye made a wave of dizziness wash over Nero, whoever, and he suddenly realized just how exhausted he truly was. Days of tension and sleepless nights had taken their toll on his already sick and weak body. He wobbled over to Hemlock, who noticed his unsteady gait and caught him as he nearly collapsed against him. Jesus, what had gotten into this man? 

   “Damn, Nero! I didn’t think this one would wear you out this much!” Hemlock exclaimed, alarm flashing across their wrinkled face as they steadied Nero quite carefully, brushing imaginary dirt from his shoulder. All this did was slather their hand in the all too familiar blood, however…Nero swayed slightly, struggling to regain his balance. “You don’t look so good. Worse than usual…and that’s sayin’ something, since you usually look like shit.”

   In a sudden, impulsive gesture, Hemlock yanked off Nero’s hat, causing the sickened man to flinch in confusion and near offense. It was a move that always annoyed him; yet it happened almost every single day! It felt like a violation of his personal space—unless, of course, it was someone special doing it. He wouldn’t retaliate or anything, though- he respected hemlock and he was also much too tired to deal with it. 

  “Hey! Why did you—”

   “Nero! When was the last time you slept?” Hemlock’s eyes bore deeply into him, concern etched deep into their wrinkled features. “Your eye—one of them looks like it’s about to pop out! No wonder you’ve been slacking lately. Jesus, boy, haven’t I told you to sleep?” They had asked, gripping the hat, almost in frustration yet mostly concern. 

   “I’m fine—” Nero stuttered, admittedly shocked from Hemlock's concern…he’d be heart warmed, if he hadn’t been fading in and out of consciousness as they spoke. 

  Scoffing, Hemlock held their temple. “No, you’re not. I don’t trust you to go home and rest once we wrap up here. I hate that you make me do this, but dammit, I’m sendin’ you home myself!” Hemlock declared firmly, stomping their foot to emphasize their point, firm in their decision. Nero was their best worker, after all…in fact, one of the only ones. 

  Nero wasn’t going to have this, though- 

 “What?!” Panic surged through Nero, and he quickly recoiled, snatching his hat back from the worried boss of his. That was unnecessary! What if Sniper asked Hemlock about their work? What if Hemlock released all of the details of their excursion? The blood smeared on both the detective's jackets would certainly raise questions, that was for sure, no matter how blind that bunny was! He instinctively took a step back, distancing himself from Hemlock, mostly out of discomfort. 

    Realization dawned on Hemlock as they noticed Nero’s distress. Oh…Nero probably wouldn’t like it very much having his boss roam around his place, huh? Especially with the little friend he had…Hemlock paused, before sighing, rubbing their head out of discomfort and embarrassment..

 “Agh, don’t worry about it, bud. We’ll wash up first. I’ll just have your little rabbit friend make sure you get some rest, you worrywart. Now, let’s go.” Hemlock began to head toward the nearby river, and Nero hesitated, trailing behind quite awkwardly. He felt a bit bad for being so quick to react, but there were more pressing matters in his mind… 

   “But…But I can’t go to bed.”

  Hemlock halted, turning to face him. A look of puzzlement adorned their face, yet they never shifted their body to turn to him. What was he on about ?

 “And why not? You’ve got a bed at home, don’t you!” 

   “Uh… y-yes, but.it’s because I…” Nero’s voice trailed off sheepishly, his head pounding. He felt dizzy again, nearly tripping over his own feet. He was clumsy, yes, but…his vision began to fizzle out, and things were becoming hard to discern. Had that been a bush he was approaching, or was it Hemlock? 

   Hemlock, having now fully turned towards the dizzy busybody, was currently studying him, concerned deepening in their gaze yet again. “Ah…yer an insomniac, huh? I’ve had my bouts of insomnia before. I have the proper meds for it. I’ll tell your friend to give them to you once we get home. Okay? Okay. Come on. We need to hurry..” they mumbled, turning, a bead of sweat dripping down their head from stress. 

    As Hemlock began washing off their coat with urgency, Nero followed hesitantly, the cool water splashing against his face doing very, very little to clear his muddled and messy mind. He cursed silently, repeating the motions in a futile attempt to wash away the grime—both literal and metaphorical. But, no matter how much he slapped his face with cupped hands of water, it never did anything besides cause him to shudder..

   Insomnia. Yeah, right.

    He had been depriving himself of sleep for a reason that weighed heavily on his heart- and his weakened mind. It had been three days—maybe four—since he last even closed his eyes or gotten a lick of sleep. And, guess what? Gura hadn’t visited him in dreams since then- and to put it plainly, he just couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. However, with each passing night, the pressure of the worm’s gaze loomed larger in his mind, paranoia gnawing at his every thought, his body shutting down due to the lack of sleep. Was Gura watching him, lurking in the shadows? How much longer would he hold out against the creeping dread of sleep? Would he ever be free from that piercing gaze? And those rough hands that would plunge him into the darkness?

    Nero shook his head, fighting against the wave of anxiety, not wanting to appear pitiful in front of his boss. What could he say to convince Hemlock he was fine, and that he didn’t need sleep? He feared that if he succumbed, he’d awaken in the warm embrace of Gura’s fluffy ever sprawling tendrils, and the thought alone sent a shiver down his spine. 

    …Fluff. Even if he didn’t like it, he couldn’t help but think of the comfort it brought him, being wrapped in the fluffy embrace of the multicolored fur…suddenly, the prospect of sleep felt enticing, as if Gura’s hands were beckoning him, pulling him into the deity’s soft, vibrant form…where Nero belonged. 

He hated to admit it, but..he missed Gura. He envied the thought of. 

   “Nero, seriously, Jesus Christ, are you okay?” Hemlock’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts like a sharp kitchen knife slicing a soft tomato, causing Nero to jerk up. Nero looked down, realizing his hands were trembling, his vision blurring, the ultimatum of his deprivation finally flowing through his body. Exhaustion was finally catching up with him; his body was on the verge of shutting down, and god did it feel awful.

 “I-I’m..yawn…I’m..fine..”

   No… he couldn’t let himself fall asleep, not now and not ever again. Gura would be furious with him, and he’d never let him live it down. But, no matter how much Nero fought, the forceful feeling of the worm’s presence loomed closer, waiting for the moment he had surrendered to darkness, ready to be snatched up. 

   Ultimately, the man could no longer run. As his thoughts twisted in a downward spiral, his weak and shaky legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed onto the ground, right on the bank of the river. The last thing he heard before surrendering to unconsciousness was Hemlock’s frantic voice calling out to him, being shaken with the grip of a worried boss-

---

And as suddenly as it all went downhill, with just a few mere seconds, he was awake again. 

“Nero… Oh, Nero!” Called a cocky, alluring voice.

Panic flared in the man’s tightened chest. No, no..

“Do you really think you can hide from me forever, Nero? Hehehe..aren’t you a cutie pie?”

Dammit…he let it happen…again. 

Nero took a deep, shaky breath, steeling himself before opening his eyes. He knew it was coming, but he’d never truly be able to handle it…

   The worm god loomed above him, his eyes swirling with an intense fury that filled and coursed through his elongated body, hands on his hips in sassy manner. Gura had a way of making himself appear larger when he was angry, his immense form casting a shadow that felt oppressive…yet, Nero couldn’t force himself to be scared of the God before him. 

    Even if he wasn’t scared, an odd sense of exasperation coursed through Nero, but he forced himself to maintain his composure. He wouldn’t let this cocky God get the upper hand…not again, and hopefully, never again. 

  “H-Hey, Gura,” he said, trying in a nonchalant tone. “So, uh… it’s been a while.”

  “Been a while?!” Gura’s voice boomed as he circled Nero like a predator assessing its prey, sizing him up to see just how well he could devour him. “So, you tried to avoid sleeping to avoid ME for FIVE days? And when your body finally shuts down, you act this cocky with me?! I never thought you’d be such a fool…and so harsh to me, too. Oh, and I’m not going to pretend I haven’t noticed you KILLING my cultists!”

   A hand shot out, gripping Nero’s quivering jaw and forcing him to look directly into Gura’s eyes, grinding his soft fur covered fingers along the goats mouth, feeling his gums. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, toy.” 

   Nero scoffed, forcing himself to meet Gura’s spiraling gaze, eyes darting as his hands gripped at anything he could- which had happened to be Guras own arm. Despite the rage flickering in the deity’s eyes, a strange calm washed over him as their gazes locked, and Nero’s breath hitched as the pit in his stomach slowly but surely dissipated. The moment lingered before Gura snarled, growling, shoving Nero’s jaw back and sending him tumbling into something soft and plush, causing Nero to audibly yelp! 

    He gasped as he landed, recognizing the familiar sensation of Gura’s fluffy form slowly enveloping his body, wrapping around every part of him in a warm, soft hug. A part of him revealed in the comfort, fingers instinctively sinking into the warmth, squeezing and shuddering.

    Gura turned away momentarily, muttering to himself in frustration, and after a pause, he had faced Nero again..a giggle crawling out of the deity's throat, and his once harsh scowl morphed into a teasing grin. 

 “Oh, Nero! Where are my manners? Now that I have you in my grasp, we might as well make our time worthwhile. We have plenty to talk about. Plenty...”

    With a swift motion, Gura coiled around Nero, forcing him to sit down along his…stomach? This god was truly hard to understand, his stomach could be just about anywhere with just how infinite his body had seemingly been. A part of his body shifted upwards, bending into a makeshift table, balancing two cups and a teapot for them to share. Gura loved being able to mess with Nero with this..it entertained him. 

  “U-Ugh, seriously, again with this?” Nero grumbled, glancing up to find Gura’s sharp gaze locked on him. The worm’s grin was wide, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface, making Nero uneasy. He shrunk into himself, but the fur only scraped along the intimated man’s body once again, and he let out a yelp from the sheer feeling of it.

   “Hm..well, then, let’s catch up,” Gura said, taking a sip from one of the cups..although, he had recoiled, as he was never very good at brewing his own tea, quick to set the cup back down and lean forward, hands folded beneath his chin. “This past week, you’ve successfully killed three of my disciples with that godd of yours…Impressive, I must say. Trying to thwart my plans as usual, I see… You’ll never stop being such a pain, will you?” He leaned closer, his face inches from Nero’s, their breaths hitting one another’s, the tensions in the room enough to cut with a knife.

  “Killing is what my cult endorses, isn’t it? Aren’t you a little afraid of becoming like them again? Hah, you’d do good in my cult..wearing a little robe, whispering my name..” 

    Flustered, Nero interjected- “A-Absolutely not! I know what I’m doing,” Nero shot back, his voice stronger than he felt. In reality, he felt..soft..this fur was soft. But still, he fought back, much braver sounding that he really was in his heart. 

  “Ugh..If it takes a bit of blood spillage to stop you, then so be it…I’ll never let you lay a finger on the people I care about.”

   Gura sighed, feigning an overly exaggerated exasperation, hand along on his temple. “Still playing the hero, huh? You really are a pain. Why don’t you just drop it and join me…?” His hands began to grip upwards along Nero’s body, causing him to writhe in the most playful ways... Gura loved the yelps Nero made…as his hands tugged all along Nero’s body, Nero grimaced, shuddering. 

   “W-well… wouldn’t it be easier for you to just kill me? Get it over with, huh?” Nero stammered, feeling the shift in the air, causing him to uncomfortably writhe in the deities grasp. He could sense where this was headed, and he didn’t like it…it was all too familiar. 

   “…Kill?” Gura repeated, raising an eyebrow, intrigued. He never really thought of killing Nero, before…but his implications of the want excited him. “Hah, you think I’d want to kill you?” 

 “Yeah…yeah, you could’ve killed me since day one- But you chose not to, isn’t that right?” Nero pressed, a spark of defiance igniting within him. He knew gura hated when he became bratty like this..

 “While I was… staying up, I noticed things. Whenever Mallet is about to finish me off, you stop him…you may not be able to speak to me, but you keep me alive. You don’t want me to die. Are you that weak?” 

    Gura’s expression darkened, but he pulled Nero even closer, his grip tightening. His hands, coiled around Nero’s squirming body, gripped and tugged against his clothing, hands squeezing and digging at his calves and gliding along the man’s thin waist to earn a shudder or two.

  “Hah..you always bite back when you never should. You know I don’t like it when you fight back..but, oh, if you think you’re so clever, why not keep talking?”

   Nero gulped, hands twitching as he tried his best to look away, biting his lower lip.  

Jesus Christ, he hated when gura acted like this..so malicious, and he always knew exactly where to touch to irritate the man more and more. 

 “U-uh… i’m just saying how…i- i uh….” He gave up quite quickly, his bravado shattering under the stress of the direction. He may have accidentally dug his own grave…

   Gura began to giggle, knowing he won…oh, Nero was so adorable like this! 

 “Oh, baby, that’s what I thought. You’re always so much more obedient to your god than you’d like to admit.” A single hand trailed down Nero’s cheek, grazing down to his collarbone to tap it, trailing as he brought his head in to smell Nero’s fear. 

  “Haha..you’re still lovable as always, Nero… if you won’t say it, then i will.”

    An arm slowly began to coil around Nero’s neck. “I hate you, Nero. But that’s what makes you so very, very entertaining to me…and I can’t have you dying on me when things are about to get fun.. Death is an escape for you mortals. And I don’t want you to escape just yet. The satisfaction of death…only I need to give you satisfaction.” Another coiled around Nero’s body, the hand lying on his waist squeezing his body in the most rough way he could. 

  “You’ve ruined my plans so many times, my little disciple…and I think a punishment is due. And what’s a better punishment than being my little punching bag for the night? heheh..” he trailed his long, snake-like tongue along Nero’s cheek, tasting the sweat beads like a primal beast as Nero groaned and recoiled in disgust. Even he had standards! 

  Nero placed his hand on the arm coiled around his neck, tugging, but the arm remained firmly. “S-so now you want to spend more time with me?” Nero forced a chuckle. “I didn’t think you missed me that much...let me go, I’m not plaything..”

  “Mmg..shut it.” The arm suddenly tightened around his neck, causing him to choke and gag, legs flailing slightly against the Gods fields of fur. 

 “Nero…Last I heard…dolls don’t talk back.” 

  As Nero struggled against him, Gura laughed, clearly enjoying himself and the power he dominated over Nero’s body. He missed seeing Nero like this. Begging for mercy, writhing, squirming… “Besides being entertaining, you’re valuable to me. You have something I want…. Your smarts- your mind. And I’m not letting you walk out there freely while holding what should be mine..”   “O-oh really..? Hf… give me all you got. I’m not ever going to give in to you.” Nero retorted, disheveled into breathless groans, his eyes daring. 

  “My, my..You can keep trying to struggle, Nero. But I can do this forever if I wanted to.” The worm snickered, his face now an inch close to Nero’s, a smirk along his face as his heart raced. “Not even old age can save you from this one, boy..forever and ever you’ll be mine..my disciple to play with, and mine to devour the fear from as much as I please.”

   The coiling arm around his neck suddenly released its tantalizing grasp on the man’s neck, and Nero took a deep gasp and caught his breath- but, before he could think of a smart retort, hands held his cheeks, and the worm suddenly forced him into a kiss.

   An oddly sweet scent filled the man’s nose as Guras fingers dug deep and tender into his cheek, the worm squeezing and rubbing along Nero’s stomach and chest to put him in a snake-like death lock. Gura loved how Nero fought back..with groans and hisses between every slip of their lips. It drove the deity mad with empowerment.  

 Nero struggled at first, but quickly gave in. It had been a while…and he couldn’t help but love the utter excitement he derived from the attention, their lips pressing in a confusing symphony of lust and toxicity. 

   And, after a moment, Gura had pulled back, and left them both breathing heavily as if they had just ran a marathon. Gura loved seeing Nero’s grumpy face after a kiss, his pouting lip made him seem adorable.

With a whine, Nero glanced back into the worm's spiraling eyes…and, as he gripped the Gods snout, he sighed, leaning in to press their foreheads together. 

 “Fine…I may have missed you..a little.”

[hazybisou]

ONE CHANCE

fic

reader x mark estapa

summary: for weeks, mark has been trying to get y/n to go out with him but he always got a ‘no’. that all changes one night when she admits she’s developed feelings for him after a game.

a/n: literally i got like four drafts rn so have patience with your girl here

you had been sitting in the same spot for 43 minutes and 32 seconds but who’s counting? obviously, you were. as much as you enjoyed your intro to business course, you were tired and were just yearning to go to your apartment. the idea of lying in bed and doing nothing but binge-watch “New Girl” and cuddling up into your blanket was sounding very, very tempting to you. god wasn’t on your side today.

you finished up taking the final bit of notes you needed before you closed your notebook with a sigh of relief. there was approximately 12 minutes left of class and then you’d be free. to kill time you had begun to scroll through instagram.

at the beginning of the year, your professor had gone over the rules and expectations. one of them included how if you were to finish early, for the reminder of class you could just hang out till you were dismissed as long as you wouldn’t distract your peers.

eventually you got tired of instagram which is when you switched to doodling on the back of your notebook. it was quite relaxing actually. to be able to do whatever you pleased. in between classes, you has always loved going into the courtyard and sitting under a tree, whether it be listening to music or drawing, you had found that time to be peaceful. just like now.

in the midst of sketching a rose, you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned your head and were met with four grinning faces: johnny druskinis, luca fantilli, luke hughes, and mark estapa. they were known around campus for playing for umich’s mens ice hockey team. to many, they were considered to be royalty, but to you? they were just a bunch of childish men who thought way too much of themselves. so what could they want with you?

“can i help you?” you asked, clearly annoyed with the situation already. the boys all looked at each other before they all spoke in unison, “yes.”

“okay…what is it that you need?”

mark was the first to speak, “for you to go out with me.”

silence.

you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. why the hell would some guy you barely talked to ever would want to go out with you? it made no sense. the most you’ve ever spoken to him was during your first semester and it was only to ask if you could borrow a pencil. even then, he wasn’t this weird.

“you’re kidding, right?” you really hoped they were. you hoped that this was all some sick joke.

he just shook his head, “no, i’m not.”

you squinted you eyes at him before slowly turning around and getting back to you drawing.

the fours boys looked at each other once again before one of them asked, “sooo is that a yes?” it was luke.

you turned your upper body toward them. “why are you asking me to go on a date with you if we’ve barely ever talked?” it's a valid question. no one goes up to a girl they’ve never had an interaction with before and just blatantly asks them out. unless you’re a cocky son of a bitch but other than that it has never happened.

“well first of all, i think you’re a nice person and second of all, you’re cute. ” mark stated.

you just stared at him for a good minute before turning around again. you tried to convince yourself that, that last comment he made hadn’t made you blush, but you could feel your cheeks get hot. “no.”

mark’s eyebrows furrowed before he turned to his teammates, “what do i do now? she said no.” you were still able to hear them but blocked them out as you continued to sketch the petals of the rose.

“man i don’t know! i’ve never had a girl reject me before, what do you want me to tell you?!” luca whispered-shouted and mark just rolled his eyes before turning back to you.

he had leaned forward and was right at your ear. “oh cmon, i’m not that bad of a person.”

you put your pencil down and just stared ahead before answering. “my answer’s still no,” you turned your head and that’s when you realized how close you were. you couldn’t help but feel the heat creep up to your cheeks.

mark had noticed as he had a small smile plastered on his face. “please?” he begged like a little kid when they wanted something.

“you just won’t give up will you?” you knew he would keep pestering you about it until you’d yes but that’s not like you. you weren’t going to go out with some random guy you just met and expect it to go good. you wanna go out with someone who you know and have had moments with. and mark hadn’t checked either of those boxes.

“nope.”

you just smiled before turning around. your professor had dismissed the class and you quickly picked up before walking out of there and heading to you apartment, wanting to forget about what had just happened.

he was cute but that’s all you had to say about him.

━━━━━━━━━━

it was finals week and you had a huge exam coming up. every chance you got, you’d be going over your notes, reading your textbook, highlighting and writing more notes down. it was a pain in the ass. which is why currently, you were sitting at a table booth in the far corner at some cafe near campus.

you had your headphones on, listening to your playlist you had created for occasions like this. you were singing the lyrics to yourself, not wanting to make so much noise as you were in public and it’d be embarrassing if someone had heard you sing. you were in the middle of highlighting a paragraph when you felt the cushion dip, signaling someone had sat next to you.

you grab your headphones and wrapped them around your neck as you turned to face the perosn who had decided to sit next to you.

it was mark.

you had no idea why you were even surprised. for the past month, he had been trying to get you to go on a date with him. always sitting near you in class, passing you notes as if you were in high school again and sometimes, he would even leave a flower bouquet on your doorstep with a little note. it always said something along the lines of, ‘beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl -mark’ and if you were to be honest, it made you feel something inside.

you tilted your head a bit as you looked at him in confusion. “what are you doing estapa?” you already knew the answer to your question. normally, you’d want the conversation between the two of you to end the second he’d start talking to you but today you felt like talking to him like you would with anyone else.

“sitting down to talk to you,” he answered before scooting closer and leaning forward to look at why you had been doing. he just raised an eyebrow before he leaned back to look at you. “finals?”

“yeah, it’s been a pain in my ass recently and if i don’t pass this upcoming test, my life is practically over” you remarked as you gestured to your stuff laid out over the table. “it’s just been a stressful week and i’ve barely has time to do anything but study.”

mark only smiled. “i know something that can relieve the stress.” mark noticed how you perked up at the statement.

“oh, please! literally anything would help all my worries go away.”

“tomorrow night, go out with me.” mark inquired. you should’ve seen it coming. at this point all conversations with mark had ended in him asking you out and you giving him the answer, ‘no’.

you sighed as you put your head in your hands. “mark,” you stopped yourself before you could go any further.

mark had turned his body towards you, “oh cmon y/n. just one chance, i’ll make it worth your while.”

“i can’t. i have to study and you should be doing the same.” you said as you picked up your highlighter again and began to resume your reading.

mark rolled his eyes at the mention of studying. “all you do is study. you know you’re allowed to go out at times, right?”

you ignored his comments and spoke up, “my answer’s no.”

“i won’t stop until you say yes.”

“then i guess you’ll be trying for a while.” you shot him a fake smile before returning to your reading.

he only shrugged, “that’s fine by me,” and with that he slid out of the booth and headed out.

what is it with this boy and insisting on taking you out? surely it was all a joke, a bet even, between his friends if he could get you to agree to go on a date with him or not. it had to be a joke.

━━━━━━━━━━

it was friday night meaning you had finished all your exams and were happily laying in bed, wanting to relax. you had ‘New Girl’ on and you were enjoying every second of it until your roommate aka your best friend, natalie, had barged into your room. you were pretty sure the door knob had left a hole in the wall.

“get up hoe, we have places to be.” she exclaimed as she began to raid your closet.

you sat up as you stared at her like she were a mad man. “what do you mean, ‘we have places to be’” you began thinking, trying to remember if you had something important to attend to. “did i forget about us having plans or something because i don’t-”

“no, we didn’t have plans but now we do. so get your ass out of bed and start getting ready.” she ushered you into the bathroom and she handed you a pair of light washed jeans, a white tank top and a maize zip up with a michigan beanie. now you were really confused.

natalie had taken out your makeup bag and began to take out your mascara, lip gloss, blush and many other things you didn’t even know you had. you grabbed her hands making her turn towards you. “where are we going?”

“to a hockey game.”

she can’t be serious.

“you can’t be serious.” she only smiled and shrugged before going out of your bathroom and into the living room.

“i’ll be waiting for you and you only have thirty minutes!” she shouted as she made her way to the couch. this bitch is crazy.

you had put on the outfit and began to do your makeup. you hair was already done from when you did it in the morning before your 8:00 am lecture. somehow it had stayed in tact, only a few baby hairs were sticking out but nothing you couldn’t fix with hair gel.

you finished up your makeup and started to put everything in the bag but you left it be as natalie had shouted you only have two minutes. it’d be cleaned up eventually.

you walked out of the bathroom and headed toward the living room where natalie was waiting for you. “can we go now?” natalie looked up form her phone and a grin spread across her face. she nodded her head and you both headed out the door.

on the walk to yost, you both had met up with some of the player’s girlfriends. you and natalie were friends with them and you all hanged out even if you have never been the biggest fan of the men’s hockey team.

a couple minutes later, you had all arrived to the arena and went inside before showing your tickets and heading towards the rink. you followed behind as you watched the boys warm up. you had thought you were to get seats up high where you could barely see the puck, but to your luck, you had front row seats to the game.

you all had began to talk when molly, adam fantilli’s girlfriend, spoke, “so y/n how’s your relationship going with mark?” all the girls turned towards you, some confused while others just had a smirk on their face. what relationship? you guys were just friends. well if you could call it that.

“our relationship?” you questioned. you weren’t even in one. although sometimes you wish you were. over the course of mark’s attempts to ask you out, you couldn’t help but develop some feeling for him. with the flower bouquets on your doorstep, the small conversations you’ve had with him, to him trying to sit near you in class, always staring at you, it made you feel things you’ve never felt before.

molly furrowed her eyebrows, “you’re not together?” you could only skate you head no, “that’s weird. adam keeps telling me about how mark wont shut up about you and how he can’t wait for you to go on a date with him soon.”

“i never agreed to go on a date with him.” you replied to her statement. had he been making up lies? “if anything, i keep telling him no whenever he asks me.”

“why?!”

“you should say yes!”

“he’s in love with you, you know.”

“you guys would be cute together.”

you just looked at all of them and playfully rolled your eyes. “i don’t know.”

“he’s always sending her flowers almost every day. we’re running out of vases to put them in.” natalie explained and they all started squealing, asking you about the whole situation.

you were too busy explaining the whole story from when mark first asked you in class till now that you hadn’t noticed a certain player staring at you from the ice.

mark couldn’t help but smile at the thought of you being here at his game. he was too busy staring that he hadn’t noticed that ethan and mackie had skated over to him when they noticed their friend had been in the same spot for a while. the pair followed his gaze and both smirked at each other when they realized who mark had been looking at the whole time.

ethan put a hand on his shoulder, “dude, you are whipped.” that seemed to snap mark out of his trance.

“what?” mark‘s face had turned a deep shade at red as he had been caught staring at you.

“are two dating or what?”

mark looked at mackie, “where’d you get that from?” he asked.

“for the last month, she’s all you ever talk about. kinda just assumed she was your girl.” mackie shrugged as he skated side to side.

“no way is that ever happening. i’ve asked her out more times than i can count and the answers always been no,” mark said as he moved to stand in front of the two, “i’ve given up hope at this point.”

“might as well try one more time.” ethan suggested as he looked over mark’s shoulder. “i mean she’s looking at you right now,” he pointed over to where you and all the girls were seated. mark turned around and you quickly looked back as you had been caught. “they’re giggling. and are back to looking at you.”

mark could only give him a look. “so what? that’s what they do.”

ethan and mackie looked at each other before they bursted out laughing. “what’s so funny now?”

“god you really are stupid.” ethan told mark who playfully pushed ethan. “she’s in love with you too.”

mark scoffed. “and how would you know?”

“because i heard her talking about you to her friends. she said how at first she was a little annoyed with you because she’d be in class and you would sit either in front or behind her just to ask her out. and then you started to send her flowers with a little note attached and you’d pass her notes in class telling her she looked pretty and how you loved her personality and shit and wow you’re in deep man.” ethan explained and mark got annoyed before gesturing for him to continue, “she couldn’t help but feel something inside. she started to develop feelings for you and now that she looks back at it, she wished she would have said yes to when you asked her if she’d go out with you-”

ethan couldn’t finish what he was saying as frank had called them over. mackie and ethan skated over to the bench, mark not too far behind.

throughout the whole game, mark kept thinking about you and what ethan had said. did you love him? had you said no all those times to avoid your feelings for him? many thoughts ran through his head. he had to ask you. just one more time and hopefully this time you’d admit your feelings to him instead of avoiding them.

━━━━━━━━━━

the boys had won and you were all waiting outside the locker room for the boys to come out. the group was talking about going out next weekend but you zoned out. the whole night you couldn’t help but think, ‘maybe telling mark no was a bad idea’ and you knew it was. when he came out of the locker room, you would tell him how you felt, no hesitation.

about ten minutes later, you could hear the boys all shouting and clapping. you all winced at the noise but soon it stopped and the boys had started to file out of the room, some saying hi while others just smirked as they passed by you. the boys went over to their girlfriends while you stood to the side, letting them have their moment when all of a sudden you heard you name being called.

you turned around and were meet with mark and the sophomores behind him. you were confused, majorly confused. “hi?”

“i’m only going to ask once. y/n will you please go on a date with me?” mark pleaded.

that was unexpected.

you stood there, frozen. you didn’t know what to say. well you did but with everyone around you just froze. mark waved a hand in front of you face. “y/n?”

“huh, what?”

he couldn’t help but smile, “will you go on a date with me?” you did the fist thing that came to mind, you went up to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. you leaned back and could see the blush on his face. “is that a yes or?”

“it’s a yes.”

everyone that was still there cheered and mark couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you as everyone had practically pounced on you both, celebrating mark’s success of you saying yes to a date.

“you know i like you right?” you broke the hug as you stared up at him. you nodded in response.

“i do mark. and it’s ok because i happen to like you as well.”

“i know.”

what did he mean he knew?

“what do you mean, ‘i know’?” you wondered as you pulled back.

“ethan told me earlier.” that little bitch.

you hid your head in his chest. “i’m gonna kill him.” you felt mark laugh.

“don’t be embarrassed. it’s okay. i mean i’ve loved you since i saw first saw you in class but was too much of a pussy to even talk to you so i just kept my distance. which is probably why you’ve always said no to all those times i asked.” mark said as you two began to walk out of yost behind everyone else.

“woah buddy, how about we keep the ‘i love you’s’ away until after that date.” you both chuckled. “i love you too. i have ever since you started sending over those flowers. and those notes you’d give me in class always made my day better. especially when i was having a shitty day which happened to be very often.” you both walked behind everyone. “i didn’t realize until a month later and now i wished i would’ve said yes sooner. it would’ve saved me all this trouble of denying my feelings for you when clearly i had loved you ever since you started to do all these things just to get me to say yes, which by way worked.” you smiled and he did too.

“i can tell. otherwise i wouldn’t do this.” he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. your hands found his cheeks and his found your waist. you didn’t waste a second to respond. the kiss was slow but passionate. it was all you ever wanted. you pulled away and looked up at him. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before you heard mackie call out, “hey lovebirds, let’s go! we’re going to the bar to celebrate this win!”

you and mark laughed as he stared down at you. “this doesn’t count as our first official date, right?” he asked as you two caught up with everyone.

you shook your head, “no, not unless you want it to be.”

“good.”

the way i honestly got a little carried away with this and it somehow still turned out like shit. it’s fine. the last part was booty as i had gotten tired but at least it’s done. this took me two days to write and i promise all of my other fics won’t be this long.

[iamlostsomewhereinthegarden]

HI KAIDA

HOPE YOU'RE DOING GOOODDDD

I WANTED TO ASK YOU IF YOU COULD WRITE OTHER SMUTS ON SOUYAAA PLEASEEEEEEE

I have sooooo much drafts so here’s one being posted in your honor! I’m so hype that you requested (you’re like my second ever request lol)

Souya and his old Sex Toy

This was lowkey inspired by me getting sex toys lololol

TW: smut, sex toys, Gender neutral reader, meantions of cock which can also be read/seen as a dildo, giving a sex toy a name and gender (I just added this te because I find this funny), tell me anything else I’m missing lol

(My favorite fucking gif and episode, I just read the manga and didn’t/don’t watch the anime cause they’ve butchered a lot of stuff but I watched this episode for Souya alone, and this might’ve been my favorite part. He’s a fucking beyblade.)

Going through Souya’s old room as you help him pack up so he can start living with you when you stumble across something interesting~ Smiling to yourself, you hide the item away amongst the stuff that you’re bringing back home for the day to surprise your cute, grumpy-faced lover. Later that night, when you were edging and prepping him for the night, you pulled out the item, a little fleshlight that was clearly too small for his long cock. “Soooo Souya, you were a pervert even before you knew you loved taking cock, huh?” You teased, leaving him a crimson stuttering mess. “How’d you even get or use this while still living in the same apartment as your brother? We both know your moans aren’t quite love~” You stroked his dick while he started to explain, “I didn’t use it often, a-and I did it when Hoya wasn’t home!” He squeaked. Hearing how little it was used gave you a wicked idea. “So it must have been so lonely being practically abandoned, huh? Why don’t we give it some love?” Squirting lube into the toy and hovering it over his blushing tip, you asked, “You wanna use it don’t ya?” And while Souya usually agreed to whatever devious idea you had, you were surprised this time by him shaking his head no furiously, “I want your cock! I don’t wanna fuck, I wanna be fucked!” Tutting you tell him “Now, we know that’s not fair for Mr. Fleshlight, he’s been abandoned for so long,” smirking evilly and teasing his top with the fleshlight you suggested. “How about you cum into him first, and then you can have my cock like you do every night, okay?" Souya nodded readily, looking on the verge of tears due to the upcoming orgasm. “Words hun, I need words.” “Y-Yes!” “Yes, what?” "Yes I’ll fuck Mr. Fleshlight! Please, please, please hurry, I want your cock soooo bad!!!”Chuckling, you slide the fleshlight onto his dick and coo at how small it looked on it. “Look at how tiny it is, barely fitting a third of your cock! My baby had such a small dick before, huh? Well, luckily my baby has a very sensitive tip, so he can still give Mr. Fleshlight cum right?” Waiting for a response all you got was Souya moaning and groaning, stopping your movements you looked at Souya with a displeased face. “I said, luckily my baby has a very sensitive tip so he can still give Mr. Fleshlight cum right?” Wanting the stimulation again Souya nodded furiously, babbling almost non-coherently. “Yessssss, your baby can give mister cum, your baby can, please let your baby cummmmmm.” Smiling back you continued your previous movements, “Good baby, now let’s make you cum so you can get my dick.” Licking across the vein on his dick Souya immediately came spurting cum through the top of the fleshlight. Not even giving himself time to catch his breath Souya pushed you to the ground, making the fleshlight fall to the ground, and pulled down your underwear, shoving your dick in his ass, finally looking satisfied. “Hmmm, I didn’t know you were that desperate for my dick.” You said once you recovered from the shock of his actions, shrugging you start moving, "Well, I promised and you did so well baby boy, now prepare to be my fleshlight.” Moaning at your movements, Souya thanks you before he got the sense fucked out of him. Though Souya’s move was delayed because of the soreness after that night, it was well worth it. Maybe you guys should introduce more toys into the bedroom.

[reysdriver]

Sirius x reader where he’s not answering letters all summer and so the reader decides to sneak into Grimmauld Place to check up on him. Up to you if they get caught or not

You pay Sirius a visit after a month of lost contact — sirius x gn!reader fluff

warnings: slight angst, mention of Sirius' crappy family but no details

words: 0.6k

a/n: it's actually embarrassing how long it's taken me to get to this. I may be going through a lot rn but I admit this has been sitting in my inbox and my drafts for a while, so anon, I'm really sorry and I hope you like it

Even though you and your boyfriend had spent the better part of the last month of school talking about how you can still stay in touch over the break, Sirius hadn’t responded to a single one of your letters so far this summer. You’ve sent at least two per week for a whole month and they’ve all gone unanswered. 

 All kinds of thoughts were digging into your mind as to why this was happening, all of them increasing in intensity the more you let things spiral. 

He’s run off with some pureblood girl his parents set him up with. No, he’s just been lying to you about liking you for months. He’s so relieved to be out of your presence. What if something really bad happened to him?!

But you knew Sirius, you knew yourself, and you knew that these thoughts were only going to get more unrealistic the more you let them fester undealt with. So, you decided the best thing to do was run off and pay your boyfriend a visit. 

✦✧✦✧✦

You hadn’t brought anything other than your wand—which was concealed in your boot—and two sturdy books on your venture to visit Sirius. They were inconspicuous enough so as to not grab any attention from muggles, but effective at what you needed to do. 

After making sure no one was around to see what you were about to do, you placed the two books on the ground and planted a foot on each one, then pulled your wand out from your left shoe and cast a simple levitation spell on each one. It was tough to keep your balance, but you held onto Sirius’ windowsill so it would be easier to stay in one place. 

Sure enough, there he was when you looked into his room. You tapped on the pane of glass separating you two to get his attention and it worked; just as quickly as he turned to face the window, he stood up and rushed to open it for you. 

“What are you doing here?!” Sirius asked, holding your hand to help you inside. 

You shrugged like it was obvious. “You weren’t answering any of my letters. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

He looked back at you, defeated. He slumped down on his bed, and you watched him feeling nothing but worry. 

“I’m so sorry, love.” Sirius mumbled sadly. “I wanted to, I really did. I just get so stressed when I’m with my family and then writing back slips my mind. Then the more I leave writing to you, I just feel more guilty and I just feel bad writing back at all.”

Instead of a verbal response, you embraced your boyfriend in a tight hug, knowing this is definitely the most loving interaction he’s had since you parted ways at the train station a month ago. 

“It’s okay. I understand now that you’ve told me.” You told him. “Do you want me to stay here, Siri?”

He looked at you with teary eyes. “Yeah, as long as we don’t do anything to get caught by my parents.”

“Okay, I’ll stay as long as you promise me one thing.”

He looked up at you, slightly confused, as you brushed your fingers through the silky hair you missed all summer. “What is it?”

“No more one-sided communication. Even if it’s just you sending back letters complaining about your family. I want to hear from my boyfriend when we’re apart.”

He pulled your hand down from the top of his head and brought it down to his lips so he could kiss your palm before answering. “Promise, my dear. I’ll start writing one right now if you’d like.”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

shannon stories + buddie kid(!!!) 💗 💗 💗

ah yay thank you!

45 for 🧟‍♂️:

---

“She was trying to organize a group of women to keep each other safe. So men wouldn’t… You know. Take advantage of vulnerable survivors.”

Eddie feels a little sick. And more than a little stupid. He hadn’t even thought about that. That that would be a pressing fear on Shannon’s mind. Of course it would be. Look at how skeptical of him Maddie was when she met him on the road? 

“And… You’re okay?” Eddie asks. 

She looks okay. Looks healthy. 

Shannon nods. “I am. Thanks to her. We banded together. Took up residence in a solar powered home out here. And we help women when we can.”

“That’s… Well, that’s pretty cool, actually,” Eddie admits. “I’m glad you found her.”

“Me, too,” Shannon says. “She’s just stubborn enough to survive all this. And she’s a good friend.”

Fine. Eddie will hate her less, then. 

“Will you… Will you come see Chris?” He asks. “He knows I’m looking for you.”

Shannon’s eyes widen. “God, of course. Of course I will.”

Eddie exhales heavily, relieved. “Good. I, uh… I’m really glad you’re alive, Shannon.”

She wipes her eyes. “You, too.”

“We can… I mean, we can figure everything else out, right?” He asks her.

---

45 for 🔼:

---

“Maybe… Maybe he’s just anxious about you bleeding out on the job,” Shannon says. 

“He let Chimney come back from getting rebar through his brain after less than two months, Shannon.” 

Oh. Well… That’s not good. That does seem sort of unfair. Shannon isn’t a medical professional, but something through the skull seems pretty serious.

“Yeah, I can see why that must hurt.”

“I have to get my job back, Shannon. No matter what it takes.”

“The fire marshal position isn’t going well?” 

“It’s not bad, it’s just… Not where I belong. It’s not where I’m… I can’t explain it.” 

“Try,” Shannon says. “Please.”

She hears Buck exhale heavily. 

“I never mattered before this job, Shannon. I was fucking around the country, figuratively and… Well, literally. I was nobody. I have only ever liked who I am as a firefighter. I can’t lose that.” 

“But Buck, you’re still you,” she says. “Your job isn’t who you are.”

Or Shannon is rather sad, really. 

“Maybe not for everyone, but… It’s different for me.”

“Why?” Shannon asks. 

He doesn’t answer. 

“Look, I have to go, okay? My lawyer is calling.”

“Buck, come on… Don’t-”

“Sorry, Shannon. Bye.”

He ends the call. 

Shannon sighs. She thinks there might be something really wrong there. She just doesn’t know what to do about it. 

---

Not quite 60 for ⚡️ because the chapter is ALMOST done:

---

“So…” Eddie says. “So, you’re okay with this, right? I mean, I’m okay with this.”

Buck nods eagerly. “I’m very okay with this. I… Eddie, this is really going to happen for us. Isn’t it?”

Eddie smiles. “I think it really is.”

☆☆☆

Eddie and Buck meet with Connor and Kameron. They come to an agreement. They make plans. Everything is good to go, all they have to do is draft up a surrogacy agreement and have it notarized. The only compensation she’s asking for is coverage of her expenses, which is more than fair and hugely generous. 

Which means they can afford all of this. Now. They don’t have to wait. 

The thing is, Eddie would have waited. He’s committed to this. But the more time between this child and Christopher, the less they’ll grow up together. There’s already so little time before Chris is an adult. Something that horrifies Eddie. The sooner they do this, the better he feels about it. It’s not like he and Buck need more time or whatever. They’ve been parenting together in one way or another for years. 

By late June, while Ravi and Adriana are away, Eddie is feeling entirely confident in their direction once again. That feeling of being fated has never seemed so real. Buck can be smug about it all he wants, Eddie is just enjoying the easy excitement and comfort about the future.

Until, one afternoon, when Pepa calls him.

[sacredtime]

Draft clean out [1/28]

Hear me out: I feel like despite being mates to the Shaw packs alpha and beta angel and babe are pretty unbiased to most members of the pack.

Like yeah, they’ll form their own opinions on members ofc but won’t be inherently biased towards anyone because of the influence their respective shifter holds towards people (With exception to Christian. It was on sight the minute they could put a face to the name)

Like when Darlin first started coming back to the pack I feel like these two would be the first ones to offer genuine kindness and be positive towards them. This naturally sketches Darlin out. With all they’ve done and been through, why are these people treating them this nicely for no reason?

Pretty sketchy if you ask Darlin.

So of course Darlin acts aloof and distant from them because who knows why they’re actually being nice to them and want to get to know them? Surely David and Asher told their mates all about them and how terrible of a person and pack member Angel and Babe must think bad of Darlin.

So it’s weird when Darlin is forced invited to David and Angel’s place for coffee and they see Angel and Babe there.

Needless to say it’s awkward at first. Despite not being shifters they’re surprisingly intimidating together and puts Darlin on edge.

It gets them on the defensive when the two start to asking questions but when it devolves into cheesy, typical questions to get to know them which is far from any interrogation Darlin thought they’d be getting. Darling also able to let their guard down more as Angel ensures David’s not in the house or aware of their coffee meet up although they do still remain guarded

This ends still pretty awkward but the three end up slightly closer than before and the two get to see a slightly different side to Darlin than what they heard and get more insight into them.

David did eventually find out and while he was upset with Angel for inviting a shifter with homocidal maniac vampire blood bound and trailing them into his house and putting their life and Babe’s life more at risk he could tell they had good intentions and begrudgingly let it slide, although he stayed in the house from then on just incase.

[stitched-mouth]

Madame Web Production BS

Just to be clear, I love this movie. But I love talking about what a dumpster fire it was behind the scenes so let me point everything wrong with my favourite of the year so far. SPOILERS!

• Cass’s personality is not fleshed out… that’s a major problem. I feel like they just told Dakota Johnson to do what she wants the whole movie BUT then right at they end they decide to give Cass a personality completely ripped from the comics. And it doesn’t work with the way Dakota was playing her the whole movie and these no character development over the course of the movie, so it’s actually a little scary seeing her switch at the end.

• None of the characters have a personality actually. The villain was the worst to be fair because I still don’t really understand his motives. Like… you tricked and murdered a pregnant woman and a few others because your family was poor? And you think Spidey strength will fix that? Um, ok. So is mine but I don’t know.. wouldn’t kill anybody over it though.

• I hate Sydney Sweeney’s image. And it’s not her or her marketing teams fault. It’s her fans’ and her directors. She’s constantly purposely dressed sexy in movies (even when dressed down like a nerd, she’s still sexualised) but then is playing a child. Like wtf. They did it to her in Euphoria and they’ve done it to her again in Madame Web. And how Sydney dresses for press also is clearly influenced by directors and fans’, like the look isn’t just what they want for her characters but also how she’s expected to be irl too. It’s kind of sick and related to how paedophilic things are still normalised in our society today, I’ll have to say that rant for another day though.

• Why does it feel like nobody cared about this movie? The script feels like the first draft that was supposed to have rewrites but nobody was bothered. Same with the editing, everything but especially the dialogue and music feels so placeholder, why was it in the finished project? Like even the Google cast page is not finished, only the leads have their character names on there. Zosia Mament (the villain’s assistant) is credited as fucking ‘Actress’.

• Why was Cassie able to fly to Peru when she’s a wanted criminal? Why is she flying to Peru when talking about laying low because she’s a WANTED CRIMINAL??!

• The writers constantly forgetting what year it is was hilarious and the editors just throwing one Brittney Spears song in and a few Beyonce billboards in to cover up their mistake is also hilarious.

• ACTUALLY, apparently the whole reason the movie was set in 2003 was because the director really wanted to use Toxic in the movie. Because apparently you can’t play a song in a movie if the movie doesn’t take place in the same year the song was released 🤡

• BUT Toxic was released in 2004 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

• The writers taking the time setting as a opportunity to reference Garfield’s Spider-Man but then also forgetting that that SM was born in 1995 🤡🤡🤡🤡

• Yes I checked, they specifically wanted to reference Garfield’s Spidey, but through editing they realised their mistake and started trying to make it look like they were talking about Tom Holland’s SM instead, which risks breaking some rules with Marvel… AND THAT SPIDEY WAS BORN IN 2001 SO THEY STILL FUCKED UP. The fact that a simple Google and common sense (like they must of know Garfield’s fist SM movie took place in 2012 and if he was born in 2003, he would of been only 9 years old in 2012 😑) would of fixed this problem is again hilarious.

• Obviously the biggest goof was Dakota Johnson not realising she’s not in a Marvel movie and firing her agent the same day the trailer got dropped 🤡

• She also might be in trouble for posting the teaser on her Instagram and tagging Marvel before the trailer dropped (so before she found out), but I don’t think Dakota manages her own socials tbh. That post was removed then put back up without a Marvel tag.

• The press tour is amazingly bad, I love it.

• Not seeing the girls turn or become heroes was probably the worst part about this movie but I knew that going in so didn’t mind too much. But the real issue is with how Sony keeps straight up lying to their audience with their trailers. Obviously some studios add somethings into their trailer to create more interest for the audience but that’s not what Sony is doing, they are straight up LYING. And they do it so often now I want to fight whoever is in charge of that, they are the reason this movie flopped.

• Them and the writers… and whoever decided to hire the Morbius writers again, everyone there deserves to lose their jobs.

• The only reason I want this movie to do well is because I want Madame Web to have more movies with Dakota Johnson, Sydney Sweeney, Adam Scott, Isabella Mercer, Emma Roberts and Celeste O’Connor all returning. But I really don’t see that happening now, I can’t see Dakota signing another contract with Sony or doing everything to get out of this contract if it’s not over yet.

• The fact that they had to dub the villain’s lines makes me so confused to why he was hired? He didn’t even give a good performance, not saying he’s a bad actor (I’ve heard he’s great on other movies), but he really didn’t do anything in MW.

• And the part with the FBI agent and the villain had me so confused too. Like, did she seduce him to find out information about him? Because it makes sense that the FBI would be suspicious of this guy. But then did he see through her act and decide to at least get laid before killing her and stealing her passcode? But everyone is saying he seduce her for her passcodes and yeah I’m confused.

• The problem is the pacing and how everything that needs explaining isn’t, but everything that doesn’t need an explanation IS explained. And too much.

“He worked with my Mom in this place looking for this spider right before she died”

That’s not the exact quote but it’s pretty close to and that’s less than 5 minutes in. Ok thanks spoiling the whole movie to me. I really didn’t know a movie could spoil the movie to me.

• I’ll add more to this post when I remember more bs this movie endured or forced me to endure, feel free to add to this list in the comments or reposts.

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

This is a post absolutely nobody asked for because 0 of you follow me for Takes on music, but one of the pop music podcasts I listen to has been all in on Pop Girl Spring, and they played a little game the other week where they did a draft for the top 10 songs from all the albums they’ve been covering – so that’s the new releases by Taylor Swift, Beyonce, Maggie Rogers, Gracie Abrams, Dua Lipa, Billie Eilish, Charli XCX, Ariana Grande, and Kacey Musgraves, plus the currently charting album-less singles by Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan.  And while I don’t have the fun structure of a competitive draft to play with, it did make me sit down and hash out my own Top 10, and I have literally nowhere to put the fruits of all that effort except Tumblr, so here’s way, way more words than anyone asked for about POP GIRL SPRING.

Listed in not-exactly no particular order, but also not in This Specific Order, like, this is not a countdown, I’m not ranking them with great specificity or anything.  The 10 songs I need on my imaginary Pop League Team.

Good Luck, Babe! (Chappell Roan): Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess is a great album and I think Roan has a great career ahead of her (knock on wood), but this is the first song she’s released that feels like a Timeless Hit to me, like the kind of thing that’s going to show up in Buzzfeed quizzes in the 2040s about picking the best songs from this decade.  On god, this could be one of the best pop choruses ever written – starting with that fucking high note is such a flex! – and it’s such a poster child for how great, earwormy pop music can tell a fairly specific story and make it feel deeply universal.  Legendary.  No notes.

Espresso (Sabrina Carpenter): SONG OF THE SUMMER.  Is it a better pop song than Good Luck, Babe?  No.  Is it the Song of the Summer anyway?  Yes, because those aren’t supposed to be Timeless, they’re supposed to make you forever remember *this specific summer* in your life.  It’s a great song with an unbeatable hook, and I dig the fact that it makes just slightly less sense than it probably should – caffeine is the metaphor for…how you’re going to stay up nights thinking about Sabrina Carpenter?  Okay.  Whatever you say.  It’s not a song about anything, which sometimes is bad but in this case is amazing, and there’s something marvelously audacious about committing to lines like “walked in and dream-came-true’d it for ya.”  Bonkers.  Delightful.  Carpenter has put out like 4 albums which does not seem possible for someone I up until now only vaguely remembered as “was on that nostalgia-bait Boy Meets World sequel series,” but man, she came to play with this one.

BILLIE GETS TWO

BIRDS OF A FEATHER: Hit Me Hard and Soft is a fantastic album, managing to edge further into straight-up pop territory without compromising the distinctive voice that’s made Eilish the Snobby Music Critic’s Pop Princess.  I have no idea how long she’s going to be able to (or want to) keep splitting the difference between these two identities, but she’s doing it right now, probably doing it better than anyone since Little-Earthquakes-era Tori Amos.  I chose this song because I think it does the best job of fusing those elements: it’s a right-down-the-middle love song in the classic pop vein of “i know my baby is a life-ruining trainwreck but honestly i do not care,” and it’s got good mid-tempo ballad structure with that little bit of haunted-ness that is Eilish’s signature sound, and I just think it’s probably the most solid song on the album.

CHIHIRO: This one is my *favorite* song on the album, which is why it’s here.  I don’t know what it’s about.  It’s not particularly “radio-friendly” (is that a thing anymore? What do we say instead of that? Digestible?)  It’s slinky and vaguely threatening and it just feels like a song that nobody else could do. It’s the one that’s been most consistently stuck in my head since I first listened to the album.  I feel like it’s flying under the radar a little, but I’m super here for it.

The Kill (Maggie Rogers): I feel like people sleep on Maggie Rogers because her marketing aesthetic seems kind of like, navel-gazing folky singer-songwriter, which is not all that Of the Moment right now.  But the thing is, that’s really not accurate at all!  Her music is just straight down-the-middle, strongly crafted pop, WHY is she not more famous?  She’s so good!  Don’t Forget Me is just so, so solid as a pop album, crammed full of songs that are massive hits in some alternate universe. “It Was Coming All Along” is my personal favorite, but for this list I’m sticking with The Kill, just because it seems to be the closest thing to a breakout hit off the album and I want to hype it up.  It’s a bouncy, incredibly sing-along-able song about a mutually destructive relationship, what is not to love.  Pop music was invented for this.

BEYONCE ALSO GETS TWO

BODYGUARD:  Look, I’m going to level with you, I wanted to like Cowboy Carter a lot more than I did. For me, the album has exactly the same flaw as Renaissance did, which is that it fundamentally feels like Beyonce has done a *ton* of research for her music history degree, stuffed every bit of it into the album, and by god you are going to listen to her senior thesis on the Black roots of popular music.  Both albums are like – so smart and so sincere and they just feel – a little bogged down to me.  I don’t know.  This may be entirely because I am just not on Beyonce’s level here, but there’s something about Cowboy Carter that makes it hard for me to really love as an album, rather than as a project.  That said, there were several tracks I really liked, and this one’s probably my favorite, maybe because it sounds the most authentically like a Beyonce track to me.  Whatever you think of Jay-Z or of the Carters’ marriage, it’s undeniable that a huge part of her as an artist and a human is tied up in this idea of being one half of their partnership, and when she does these “it’s me and my baby versus all the rest of you bitches” songs, she always strikes what to my ear is her most authentic, heartfelt notes.  BODYGUARD has a cool, California-road-trip kind of vibe that puts me in mind a little of “03 Bonnie & Clyde,” but appropriately, more grown-up now.

YA YA: After complaining that a lot of her recent music feels a little too overstuffed with References, I have to say that this is one of the worst offenders – but it fuckin works.  This feels deeply retro but not at all in a corny way, a great update of a certain kind of mid-century honky-tonk music that makes it feel vital and current.  I don’t think Beyonce has truly hit the same high in terms of weaving her politics and her music together since Lemonade, but to me this song stands up well alongside that album (which for the record, I think was a generational achievement, a truly transcendent work of art).  Also, as appropriate for a song whose theme is “shake your ass in defiance of a world that does not care about you,” the ass-shaking game is on point!  I honestly wish this song had received all the success that went to TEXAS HOLD ‘EM, which is a song I truthfully feel is hokey and try-hard.  This one covers the same ground but infinitely better.

Von Dutch (Charli XCX): I am a naysayer to Brat Summer, I’m sorry to say; I think Charli is a fairly decent pop musician and Brat is a fairly decent pop album, but I do Not get the hype.  It’s got some worthwhile tracks, and I do appreciate that she’s allowed some space to excavate less-common themes in pop music – songs about wondering if now is when she should be having kids, about wrestling with the way that other women bring out her personal insecurities – rather than just the genre staples of Love and Partying and Being Awesome.  That said.  I think the best song on the album is just a regular-degular banger about partying and being awesome.  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

YES, TAYLOR ALSO GETS TWO (man, it’s a 31-track double album! Get off my back!)

Down Bad: One of the things I don’t think Swift gets credit for, due to being overshadowed by the Harrowing Constant Drama of her personal life, is that she legitimately has a dry, off-kilter sense of humor that brings much-needed levity to the Harrowing Constant Drama of her body of work.  TTPD is, among other things, a *funny,* self-aware album about how knowing full well that your emotions are absolutely unhinged vis-a-vis actual reality doesn’t actually do jack shit to keep you from drowning in those emotions.  A lot of the hate for this album has really come from people who Do Not get the joke, who are cherry-picking verses and single lines from deeply self-aware songs without providing the context of that self-awareness.  I love this song.  I love the chorus: crying at the gym is a detail that’s perfectly, wryly relatable in its absurdity, and “everything comes out teenage petulance / fuck it, if I can’t have him I might just die” in that swingy, chipper groove is exactly why no one does it like she does, packing all that ambiguity and frustration and self-loathing of your own irrationality into a great hook.  I love the fuckin alien abduction framing device to talk about a relationship whose impact inside your own head and heart is wildly out of proportion to its impact on the materiality of your daily life – a relationship that *might as well have* happened on an entirely different planet than the one everyone else lives on.  It’s great.  This is a great song.

The Albatross: So I wanted for the second TTPD track to pick something from the other side of Swift, the one that *is* deeply, irretrievably, uncomfortably emotionally sincere.  There were definitely some strong contenders, but I kept coming back to this song, which I actually have heard very little chatter about, but has snuck up on me as an album favorite.  I try not to get too lost in the labyrinth of Swift’s endless Easter eggs and self-mythologizing, but this is a song that I do think benefits from understanding its place in her personal biography; specifically I think it gains a lot from seeing it as a companion piece to “The Archer,” a softly agonized song from the beginning of a relationship about the duality of predator and prey, about wanting to go all-in but dreading the part of you that you know is capable of sabotaging this.  The Albatross is – a softly agonized song from the ending of that same relationship about the duality of destruction and salvation, about wanting so much to protect someone you used to love from the havoc *that same love* has ultimately inflicted on their life.  There’s a whole novel lying in the space between these two songs, and both of them feel raw and intimate in the way they expose the pain and vulnerability and shame that shadow the act of allowing yourself to love someone.  TTPD was, in my opinion, rushed out too quickly, an experiment in presenting Swift’s emotions in a more unprocessed, uncrafted way to make a statement about art as a survival mechanism during emotional times, but an experiment that doesn’t entirely work; it truly could have benefited from another six to twelve months of cooking and a strong editorial pass.  To me, this song is a glimpse of what TTPD could have been if instead of being rushed to press in the middle of her ginormous tour for the sake of her own catharsis, it had been given the space and attention that Folklore/Evermore were given.  The Albatross is truly (like The Archer before it) an optimal wedding of Swift as a chronicler of her own interiority and Swift as a generationally gifted musical craftsman.

(I had a couple of also-rans, so shout out to Dua Lipa’s “Happy For You,” a song I really loved off an album I thought was kinda phoned-in overall, and Gracie Abrams’s “Tough Love,” through which I learned that there could potentially be something interesting about Gracie Abrams, someday.)

[devilsskettle]

this has been sitting in my drafts for a while because i didn’t feel like being a hater but now i do so:

with all the talk about the glass onion and the menu and vapid “eat the rich” blockbuster movies, i did finally get around to watching some of them, and i have to say about the menu - people have said that it has nothing to say, but it actually has a very clear message! it asks its viewers point blank, “don’t you want your art to be easily consumable?” it’s this:

this is the point. why would you want something new and innovative? that’s pretentious. why can’t you just shut up and eat your fucking mcdonalds

to be fair i would totally fuck up that burger but like. it’s not about the food lol

i mean of course this isn’t about food! it isn’t about the food industry at all. there is nothing specific to that in any way. actually, nothing in the film is specific. all of the characters are just there, bodies in chairs, vague ideas of rich people you don’t like.... in theory. on principal. archetypes that are easy to hate and therefore need no development. and who do we have? a food critic who is actually a stand in for any art critic (of course, we hate art critics! so pretentious. ruining lives by doing their jobs of assessing how well other professionals in their field do their jobs. people in the film industry have no stake in making critics look bad, of course, we just hate them for.... being too verbose. yeah totally). her publisher, enabling her by publishing a magazine about food that she writes for. evil just evil. some.... guys? business guys? generic assholes. an actor? for some reason there’s an actor here. and his.... assistant? who went to college which is evil. two random old people. and a guy who is just really enthusiastic. what are we talking about!!! they don’t even know. but what they really want to say is this, not about food, but about art in general:

“you can’t sit and enjoy something AND think about it. don’t you hate those long boring pretentious intellectual films? everybody is just pretending to like them to make themselves seem smarter. you want the same big blockbuster from a big name studio that you can just turn your mind off while watching and that’s better than anyone trying to do anything different and they’d be happier if they just gave up and succumbed to simple shit with broad appeal” like please. the “let people enjoy things” attitude is so insidious. and do not come over here telling me i’m reading too much into it and it’s not about the film industry! for real, do not be that dense 

anyway. also apparently this guy was soooo much happier being a cook at a fast food place than being a successful chef with total creative control. writers really telling on themselves that they’ve never had a shitty food service job before. you think anybody wants to be there? there are problems across the board in restaurant culture, high and low brow, but come on lmao 

and the last scene..... they were trying so hard to be ready or not. you will never be ready or not 

[supremechancellorrex]

Now, I gotta say, I find it interesting how there are some people that target you for stating your opinion on fiction. I've had this same Jedi-stan user sending me tens and tens of comments which are based on denial and opinion rather than any logical argument. Now, they're telling others not to read my arguments because... what, it's too scary? They literally reblog my post with a quite insulting argument and then quickly block me because they don't want me to respond.

Well, too bad.

This isn't even an argument based on logic. You just stated your opinion and acted like it was a fact, anyone else who believes differently is doing so "foolishly", more "foolishly" than a child apparently. Because despite much evidence to the contrary in children's media, apparently 'villains' never have any depth or say the truth ever, according to you.

Slick: "Yes, she offered me money. But she offered me something more important, something you wouldn't understand: freedom!"

You know the one thing Slick doesn't actually have? It's freedom. Because, he is a slave, that is a fact. Let's go through the fact that slave isn't a title you award but a state of existence and being, a slave by definition is: "a person who is forced to work for and obey another and is considered to be their property; an enslaved person." That is the clones to a T. Just because Slick was selfish doesn't just invalidate he described a situation which still has not been refuted and instead has been only proven over and over again.

Now, you say "the clones are property of the Republic", and they are under the command... of the Jedi, who are generals and part of the Republic command structure. Legally, the Jedi may not have a say in the fate of the clone troopers other than being in charge of their daily actions and organisation for years, but illegally? Are you claiming that the Jedi could not even think to organise a mass desertion? When the law is unjust, you challenge it, you break it. Now, you try to absolve them here by saying that they had no choice because the Separatists were a threat to the Republic, an institution that supports slavery for its own ends. You may hate it but "Cool motive, still slavery" still applies here. Any institution that supports having an enslaved army does not deserve to exist, and that includes the Jedi Order's support of the Republic.

As for your non-sequitur on the placement of the episode, this is just pointless. There is no basis to discount an episode just because it wasn't in Season 4. This adds nothing to your argument and is just a complete fallacy.

You can't really make this argument on a number of basises. One, the writing intentions have clearly changed since that initial George Lucas' quote decades ago. Not only this, but George Lucas doesn't even own Star Wars anymore and Disney are now in charge, with Dave Filoni and a number of other writers making significant contributions.

Dave Filoni: "So I think that trying to draw these paths of the Jedi and the choices they make and how they wind up good or bad … Yoda isn’t afraid in the prequels to say the Jedi are flawed and that they’ve become greedy and self-interested and arrogant. That helps you understand why they’re going to lose the Clone War and why they’re so ripe for the picking."

I think this quote speaks for itself. Also, I think it was very clear that George Lucas, a man well-known for changing his mind and who was still the executive producer, was on Ahsoka's side in the Wrong Jedi Arc. Otherwise at some point the narrative would have refuted her assertions on the Jedi Order, that's just basic storytelling.

Now, onto the clones. You essentially admit that the draft is essentially slavery in the clones' case. The clones are property and are referred to as such, they can't leave, they can't vote, they have no rights and this has been the case since they were fetuses in tubes. Let's look at Umbara again.

Fives: "We did it. We took Umbara."

Captain Rex: "What’s the point of all this? I mean, why?"

Fives: "I don’t know, sir. I don’t think anybody knows. But I do know that someday this war is gonna end."

Captain Rex: "Then what? We’re soldiers. What happens to us then?"

Considering the fact that the Senate are voting on whether to "decommission" the clones like a product in the Bad Batch, I think it's safe to say that Captain Rex's fears were confirmed. Senator Riyo Chuchi, an actual good person in a bad system, is literally fighting to give the clones any rights at all in the Bad Batch, and she is a lonely voice.

Riyo Chuchi: "[The Clones] are not droids to simply be shut down. These are soldiers who defended us, defended our worlds"

Meanwhile, when the Jedi wax on about the end of the War, they just assume they'll be fulfilling the same duties they did before the war. This is because the Jedi are privileged and are treated as citizens during the War, able to walk around completely uncumbered and engage on a conversational level with the elite. They can also leave the Order, especially if they break the code, which is not something allowed for the clones. They may be servants, but they aren't property, and they have more tools to push back and fight the Senate, which they can walk around freely in a venerated position. You practically say this throughout your argument. Over all, the Jedi are drafted, the clones are slaves. There is a difference in the power dynamic.

The Clone Wars waived the right to be dismissed solely as "It's just a superificial kids show, don't criticise" when it decided to deal with dark, serious topics, including the Republic's growing authoritarianism, political maneuvering, slaughter and murder. All those cases of the Jedi challenging their leaders simply make it more egregious that the Jedi never advocated for the clones to the same level. The fact Mace Windu is willing to fight tooth and nail for the Zillo Beast, however demonstrates no passion to fight for the clone rights, who are slaves soldiers under his command, is actually a pretty bad look. There are also clones that died around the same time as Even Piell, yet they get no rites either.

It's funny you mention Qui Gon Jinn because his opposition to the Jedi Council has been noted previously and it is a critique of the Jedi Order.

Dave Filoni: "I think Qui-Gon in a lot of ways represents the kind of path the Jedi are supposed to be on. He’s the one that’s the most compassionate. But he has no ambition to be part of the council. He feels he can’t do what he needs to do if he’s a part of that. That thinking and that philosophy is from what Dooku taught him. Dooku was a free-thinker and was looking out for people."

Oh, you know Dooku too? The guy who said "The Jedi blindly serve a corrupt Senate that fails the Republic it represents." Looks like he imparted some spirit to his Padawan. Ultimately, this actually supports my arguments that the Jedi Order have lost their way as an institution. Now, earlier you say it "sucks" the Jedi can't allegedly speak out because of the draft, at the same time you... have Jedi speaking out on every topic that isn't clones. Hmm.

Well, mademoiselle-cookie, you have crossed into antisemitic territory here and it's shockingly disgusting of you. The Jedi should not be considered an expy of Jewish people, because that would be really racist of the writers and very misrepresentative. Jewish people are not a fictional order of magic monks that wave lightsabers around, fighting wars with state-owned clone slaves, believe it or not. Going through your argument until now has been bearable, but this really takes the cake. I've warned people to stop using real-life minority groups as meat-shields for their fictional favs, however it seems that privileged people will often use minority groups instinctively for their benefit. The fact you accuse me, a mixed race gay man, as being the type to fall for Nazi lies because I critique the Jedi Order is just the icing on the cake.

Also, you argue "it's a kid's show" and then it's a direct allegory for the Holocaust, one of the darkest periods in human history, at the same time, huh? If this were the case, it would mean it's portrayal is even more important to critique without exception.

But, moving on from your just completely inappropriate allegory. So, the Jedi have a "choice" as you just state. That's much more the clones ever had and that is a privilege. You're essentially arguing for the Jedi to stand back and do nothing by choice while earlier you also argued that the Jedi had to do something in regards to the War as it was the moral choice but also that they 'don't' have a choice. Meanwhile, the Jedi were shown to be willing to overthrow Palpatine given the 'proper motivation', but due to their lack of compassion I guess the enslavement of millions of men such as the clones just wasn't important enough. Your argument falls apart because the Jedi did try to overthrew Palpatine in the end, just not for the slaves.

Using the "Bad guys lie" trope in an absolute capacity is also not an argument. You're just stating your opinion as a fact again and it's very 'convenient' your metric. I could reply "Good guys can be wrong and don't always tell the truth" and we'd, like your point, get nowhere.

Finally, an interesting point. There's no denying that Ahsoka did not make the situation as squeaky clean in her desperation, however ultimately my point still stands that Mace Windu, and I quoted him, said "I understand your sentiment, Obi-Wan. But, if the council does as you suggest. It could be seen as an act of opposition to the Senate. I'm afraid we have little choice."

At the end of the day, the Jedi do have a choice despite what Windu says. The choice was political. The ruling isn't unanimous, because doubts are expressed, but as Mace Windu says what they view as important in response to Obi-Wan saying things don't add up regarding Ahsoka is to focus how it looks to the Senate, a Senate that supports authoritarianism, corruption and slavery. The Jedi arguably lie to themselves and say they support justice, but they don't ultimately. As Jedi Master Dooku, the described "free-thinker", says: "The Jedi blindly serve a corrupt Senate that fails the Republic it represents."

Hmm, you don't seem to understand what an "unreliable narrator" actually is. With your use especially, every single character ever could be described as an unreliable narrator, I can describe Mace Windu as an unreliable narrator or Obi-Wan. I could literally flip your argument and claim the Jedi are unreliable narrators who only think they're doing good because they were raised in an environment which told them this from a young age and ultimately they were propping up a failing, authoritarian, corrupt 'Republic'.

I don't think you realise that Ahsoka's story would not have been presented the way it was in Season 7 if the narrative was not on her side. There were key cues in its structure and quotations that were critical of the Jedi Order, who were mostly in opposition to Ahsoka narratively.

Ahsoka: "This is why the people have lost faith in the Jedi. I had, too, until I was reminded of what the Order means to people who truly need us.” 

What a coincidence that Obi-Wan, a man gifted with the gab, fails to counter this criticism as well. Just like Slick.

We literally see the Jedi propping up the Republic system for the near entirely of the War. They allowed "the destruction of innocent life-forms", the clones, men brainwashed and forced into combat. They also conducted military investigations, deferred to the Senate, and I think it's very telling that Rex did not reveal Cut Lawquane's location to either the Jedi or the rest of the Republic. As Generals, they are a part of the hierarchy, and they support the Republic, a hegemony of laws and demarcations. Also, last I checked, Satine isn't a slave, I only wish Obi-Wan had gone out of his way to protect the clones as people, but I guess he only does that for citizens.

As for Order 66, again, this isn't an argument on your part. I'm well-aware of events, nor did I say they deserved to be murdered. The Jedi Order, specificially their leadership, made "poor choices" and it screwed them over. I also find your Nazi allegory more disgusting personally, but whatever. Now, let's see what the Jedi are actually doing.

Dave Filoni: "They’ve, as an institution, existed for a very long time. It doesn’t mean they’re evil or bad, but they’re making a lot of poor choices, and they can’t get out ahead of things in part because they’re desperately attempting to do things the right way and take an even stance.”

The centrist stance the Jedi take on most matters clearly contributed to their downfall. They made "poor choices" and I am critiquing them for it because allowing slavery at the heart of the Republic is not just a poor choice, but a stupid and immoral one. They are 'desperately attempting to do things the right way', but they don't, and this is why actual criticisms are levied at them. Again, I never argued the Jedi were evil, I argued they should be held accountable for their flaws and mistakes, like everyone should be.

I like how you completely misunderstood my point here despite many other people getting it. The problem is that the Jedi do have a choice, it's just a difficult one. However just because doing the right thing is difficult does not mean you shouldn't do it. The problem with the Jedi allowing countless clones, who are slaves, to die for years and that not prompt them to confront, combat or even overthrow the Republic is it makes them very morally bankrupt. As soon as the Republic said it was going to utilise slaves, the Jedi should have realised the Republic was the enemy of human decency itself. But, as we know from just watching Star Wars media with basic critical thinking or this exchange in Rebels...

Ezra: "Master Yoda, you’re powerful. You must know a way to destroy Vader and his Inquisitors.”

Master Yoda: “Padawan, thousands of Jedi once there were. Then came war. In our arrogance, joined the conflict swiftly we did. Fear, anger hate. Consumed by the dark side the Jedi were.”

I think you need to add more depth to your idea of "good". The Jedi were complicit in their own downfall. The fact you have to jump through so many 'logical' hoops to 'explain' and 'absolve' them is evidence enough. The fact you also dismiss all criticism of the Jedi as anti-Jedi propaganda, even when coming from its own members, from Yoda to Ahsoka, who clearly the narrative sides with. Now, as for your 'the citizens did nothing too' whataboutism argument? Yep. So, if you're arguing the Jedi are as bad as Republic citizens who also enabled clone slavery, then sure, a little 'harsh' of you, but that's what you're actually saying here. Plus, you keep both stating the Jedi have a choice and don't have a choice when it suits you throughout this argument.

And, regardless of whether the SW writers verbally acknowledge the word slavery, it is the story they present by saying the clones are "property" who "have no representation in the Senate". You should watch the Riyo Chuchi episodes in Bad Batch again, because this should be impossible to miss in the discussion of "clone rights". Your attempted use of 'rhetorical' questions instead of an actual argument is also pretty uninspired.

You literally didn't "debunk" anything, mademoiselle-cookie. As usual, you used ad hominem attacks, misused terminology, made antisemitic allegories, and now you're upset someone expressed an opinion you dislike. The fact you warn other people not to read my opinion as if you're the guardian of Jedi stan tumblr and they couldn't bear having someone make a post they don't agree with is also hilarious, I would hope people are full of sterner stuff. After all, people always have a choice, whether to read or not.

[maskedrealities]

Alright! Take two for this! Maybe this time I won’t delete the draft on accident lol

I’m back with the yandere enneagram. I’ll be breaking it down like I did with the result of 459 after taking the test here. I’ll be using the core and fixes/tritypes both found within the respective links for both terms. The two tritypes I’ll be looking into in this post are 525 and 526, although I’ll say which one fits me the most to me at the very end.

Within breaking it down, I’ll still give my experiences and why I agree or don’t agree. These have been picked and thought on for a few hours as means of making sure that I have all of my experiences understood and able to put into words. This is going to be a pretty long post so I apologize in advance and I appreciate anyone who reads through it fully!

For the layout, it will be the core broken down first, 2+5 broken down, and then 2+6 broken down.

Getting into it, 5 core first!

Type 5: The Stalker

5 wants to understand their darling.

This is true. I love being able to understand anyone that I have interest in or might end up in a relationship with. Understanding that person makes it easier for me to understand how they act and react as well as their communication methods.

5 will watch from afar and seems to “take notes” on everything about their darling.

This was extremely prevalent during my teen years, something that has carried on into my adulthood. I take a lot of mental notes on anything and everything to make sure I’m aware of what I need to know or what I believe is important. Such as basic knowledge, likes, dislikes, things they’ve always wanted, things like that.

They are incredibly observant and analyze everything about their darling, but are often too anxious to act or truly get close with their darling.

This was also something heavy in teenage years. I was always observant and analytical but would never do anything to get close with the people I was interested in let alone obsessed with. That’s something that has still carried with me but isn’t as bad.

Resentful to everyone in their darling’s life but unlikely to act on it.

Like I said with the other enneagram, I only resent the people that hurt my darling or person of interest. I tend to talk it out with my darling/person of interest or with the person I have that resentment with, but that’s as far as I’ll go. So I guess yes, I won’t act on it in a physical sense.

Daydreams a lot, similar to 4 and 9.

This was a yes if I was back in my teens, but since then, I don’t daydream. I don’t have the time for daydreaming and I don’t like the expectations that daydreaming could bring for my darling and for me.

Sees their darling as fantastic.

I see a lot of people as fantastic so yes, I do agree with this. I enjoy being analytical and understanding how others function and react/act. So, yes, I see/would see my darling as fascinating as they would be! Even more so than a random stranger!

Most observant, avoidant type.

This was true when I was younger for avoidant, those behaviors still stay but they’re not as prominent. But I’m still observant, if not more so.

Type that stalks their darling the most.

I would agree with this, as I do enjoy knowing where they are, what they post, what they do, what they like, things they enjoy, things like that. It doesn’t come from a place of control or wanting to be in control, but from paranoia and making sure that they’re okay.

Type with the most quiet hatred.

I do agree with this. I don’t like anyone knowing who I do and don’t like and if someone does something wrong, I can be very quick to despise or hate them. I also hold grudges very close to me so knowing that someone might have a grudge against them has a higher chance of me hating them but never telling them.

Trigger: Infringement on their interest with their darling.

If someone actively stops me from talking about my darling when/if they talk about their partner, it absolutely makes me upset. I should be able to talk about someone that interests me as someone else does. So I do agree with this as well.

For the first two fixes, 2+5:

Needs alone time despite craving attention from their darling.

This is 100% me. I love having alone time but I also enjoy spending time with someone such as my darling/person of interest. I do enjoy and crave attention, but I don’t want to also impede on alone time either.

Covert obsession.

Not much to add here but I do agree.

Would set up cameras in their darling’s room and/or watch them at all times.

The camera portion is a no, as I wouldn’t want to impede on personal privacy and if I wouldn’t want cameras in my room, I won’t do that to someone else. I would do anything I can to watch them at all times, though.

Needs to know they’re safe and content.

100% yes. I always enjoy knowing and have a need to know that my darling is safe and content. If they aren’t, I’d want to do anything to make sure they’re both.

Asks their darling so many questions and wants to know exactly how they feel.

I can get overbearing how someone feels, especially if their behavior says that they’re lying. I like knowing how someone genuinely feels so I can know how I can help, if at all. Though that’s also something I’m working on, even though it’s taking some time.

Keeps their true intentions hidden.

If it’s concerning gifts or surprises, absolutely. Otherwise I try and tell them what’s going on if they don’t like surprises.

Interesting with their darling’s connections to other people.

I am interested in things like this, I try not to pry, but I like knowing if someone is a friend or not and if they make my darling uncomfortable at all.

Likes to give advice to darling and be of service.

I do enjoy being able to be someone my darling can rely on, especially if they need advice. I try and give them as good advice as I can although there’s times where I’m not sure how to help in some scenarios. I do enjoy being someone to help out, no matter what, though.

Really, really enjoys analyzing their darling.

This is true. Analyzing my darling is fun and can provide a fun past time and I can show them how I pay attention to the smaller things they may not be aware they show.

Love letters and love poetry enjoyer.

Like I said in the other post, I enjoy making and receiving love letters/poems as my favorite creative medium is writing.

2 fix can help 5 core interact with darling more.

This could very well be the case. I think it does. I feel like being able to balance alone time and being around them helps with interaction.

5 fix can help 2 core becomes less suffocating to their darling.

Not applicable here.

Last one, 2+6.

Strong desire to be of service to darling.

I do have a strong desire to be of service to my darling, yet I also feels like this ties into 2+5 as well.

Most anxious about making a mistake and hurting darling rather than helping.

This is a very big fear of mine. I never want to hurt my darling, I want to help them whenever I can, wherever I can. Making a mistake and hurting them is never my intention.

Hates hates hates being alone and separated from their darling the most; most clingy and needy.

I wouldn’t say I’m needy or clingy. I do value personal space and alone time, even when I’m dealing with bad separation anxiety. It lasted for a few hours, but there’s also times where I’m happy for the alone time, especially if it feels like I have to mask around my darling for large periods of time.

Needs security and plenty of “I love you”s.

I don’t like when things are repeated but I do prefer words of affirmation. Needing security also isn’t my priority in a relationship so I wouldn’t count this as right for me.

Needy. Did I mention needy?

I consider this wrong for me and how I am as I don’t consider myself needy, but I do feel like I ask for too many things at times, although I’m learning past that.

Forgets their own needs and, instead, focuses on their darling’s.

My needs and wants are just as important as my darling’s. It’s not something I’d willingly give up as I would also like to be cared for and given some time to rest and relax.

Needs to be important to their darling.

I like being important, but I also don’t feel like it’s necessary for me to be important or the most important to them.

Becomes very flustered or upset if they don’t know how to help their darling.

This is true! I tend to be very upset if I don’t know how to help my darling or find it impossible to help my darling. I don’t like them being in pain and would do anything to make sure they’re happy.

Hates it when people other people help their darling with anything.

I’m glad if they can get help from someone else. What I’m not happy about is someone who flirts with them or makes them uncomfortable in the process.

Often self-sacrificial for their darling, but not humble about it, at least not internally.

I don’t consider myself self-sacrificial and I don’t see myself as someone that would willing sacrifice myself when I also have pets to care for.

6 fix can help 2 core be more understanding of their darling and think things through more carefully rather than only seeking affection; helps 2 be more thoughtful.

Not applicable.

2 fix can help 6 core feel more of a specific purpose, to help darling.

Not applicable.

All in all, with both 525 and 526, I feel 525 fits me more as I never denied anything to my personality like I did with 526. I feel like that also helps show more into my personality and can let others see and understand me a bit more!

Thank you all for reading this far if you did, even if you scrolled to the bottom and then read the 525 without my experiences included. I really enjoyed doing this and I’ll more and likely keep my eyes out for any other yandere personality quizzes/types from here.

[zoydraft]

Are we designing for CubeCon?

Lost in the Hedron Network, or “Goodhart’s Cube”

[The first draft of this was written before hearing Arlo's episode on Recross the Paths, and you should listen to that instead, because we say a bunch of the same stuff]

[I also recorded myself reading this if you prefer weird voices speaking to you]

I don’t want to follow the wrong incentives.

CubeCon and the cavalcade of regional events over the past two years are incredible. They’ve grown interest in the best way to play a great game. They’ve spawned BCW boxes packed with creativity. Cube has never been in a better spot…

…and it's also found a weird way to measure success. In scare-quotes. Which cubes will be selected for these events? Who will win social media voting? Which cube was the most frequent top-pick on Hedron Network? This past year the answer was often clown-shoes rule-change cubes.

In the meantime, we're left wondering how a "normal" cube can sell itself, differentiate itself, or otherwise convince anyone to pay attention. How do you sell the idea of a cube where you play normal Magic? As a person whose five year old cube could now be described as "Foundations-style," it felt bad for a while, but I think there's a way out. 

The selective pressures on a designer who wants to see their cube ranked at a cube event or discussed online bias heavily towards anything with a hook. Not just rule-change cubes, it's stuff that can be sold in a sentence or two, or even just an evocative name.

Having a good name is good. Having an enticing elevator pitch is good. If there's a way to "win" at cube design, it's obviously to make a cube that people want to play. That feels like a reasonable goal. 

But is that why you built your cube? Now that we have a measure of success, is it a good measure?

I want to design an experience. Selling that experience is necessary, and I bet having your cube at an event is super cool, but I really believe that the way people experience your cube is what your cube is. To quote gaytransmulldrifer, my cube is played “with gay people at my house.”  

Pink Sleeves is the first cube I built, and is still my main cube. The first year was stitched together from the limited environments I had played, but as COVID progressed and I had a kid, the theoretical design vision of “what if this is the only way my friends and I play Magic?" drifted a lot closer to literally true. Over the past five years I think I’ve got it very close to embodying that.

I don't think Pink Sleeves is a great name, but it nods towards the community I've tried to foster, which is very queer-positive, with the same bristliness that comes out when I tell people my favourite movie is Clueless, or if I wear my Carly Mazur Faithless Looting pin. It tries to set an expectation about who is welcome. It's a name with a purpose other than selling the gameplay… and would make no sense in an event context.

My cubes are for my friends. For them, I don't need to differentiate Pink Sleeves from any other "normal" cube, because they know it. They recommend it to their friends. I do not need to make decisions about its design with an event audience in mind. The ways my friends play it IS the cube.

I just cut Flash and Dread Return, because despite what those cards could do, my friends have never noticed or at least never shown any interest in those paths. I held onto them for a long time, because they felt like they fit what I was going for, but if it never happens what are they contributing?

It would be awesome for one of my cubes to be selected for an event, but that's not my goal (I have never submitted a cube to an event, nor been able to attend one!). Being picked or not doesn't make it a success or a failure. I already have my success: people who don't really play Magic, and who might not feel comfortable in an LGS have played my cube and have kept coming back to play my cube, and have become my very good friends.

As much as I love the online cube community, and am thrilled at all the events popping up, I want to encourage you to remember your local context, and the play that is already happening. Getting our online friends excited about new ideas rules, but your cube is how it gets played, so please remember that designing something for your own community is healthy, even if it doesn't get other people excited.

And so, when I put together a new set of changes to one of my cubes, I’m making those changes for my friends.

Thank you for the gift of cube.

[and thank you to Ollie and Parker and Cher for providing feedback on an earlier draft ♥️, and Clayton for providing like half of the original Cats in Pink Sleeves cards]