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icrypop · 2 months ago

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Pink Pony Club

Angel Dust/Anthony x Trans FtM reader Songfic

Warnings: Homophobia/Transphobia, talk of suicide,drugs, alcohol, overdoses.

Chappell Roan currently has my heart with this song and I immediately felt the pull of Angel Dust with it...sooo...I think this'll be so cute 🥰 trust that im working through thr few requests I've got left so feel free to request more fandoms <3

-Writer Icy♡

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n stared out of the window, watching the fields of Tennessee blur past, the early morning sun casting long shadows over the countryside. This town had never felt like home, not truly. Not since they realized who they were—a boy in a body that didn’t quite fit. That discomfort, that gnawing feeling, had always been there, just beneath the surface. But it wasn’t until they met Anthony that everything became clear. Anthony, with his loud laughter, confidence, and unapologetic flamboyance. His bright eyes like neon and his Italian accent that fit his face just right. They had met at a dive bar when Anthony had flown in from LA, all talk of dreams, lights, and big cities.

Y/n had never met anyone like him. Anthony made LA sound like paradise, and the way his eyes sparkled as he spoke about performing made something click inside of them

I know you wanted me to stay

But I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA

And I heard that there's a special place

Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day

"You ever thought about leaving this place?" Anthony had asked one night, the two of them sitting on the hood of Y/n’s car, the stars twinkling above them. Y/n had hesitated, then nodded.

"Every day."

"You got that fire, N/n. I see it in you." Anthony had said with a grin, his cigarette dangling from his lips. "You could be anything out there, you know? Come with me to LA. I perform at this club called the Pink Pony Club. It’s a place for people like us, people who don’t fit anywhere else."

Y/n had laughed, a bit incredulous. "You think I could perform? Like… on stage?"

"Hell yeah!" Anthony had punched them lightly in the arm. "I can already see it. We’d tear it up together."

I'm having wicked dreams

Of leaving Tennessee

Hear Santa Monica

I swear it's calling me

Won't make my mama proud

It's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl

I know she's gonna scream

---

Leaving home had been a fight, though. Y/n's mother had found the plane ticket tucked away in their drawer.

"You’re not leaving," her voice was sharp, eyes wide with panic. "What do you think you’re doing, Y/n? Running off with that boy to God knows where?"

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

Y/ had squared their shoulders, heart pounding but resolute. "I’m going to LA, Mom. I’m going to perform with Anthony at the Pink Pony Club."

"That’s not real life!" Her hands flew up in frustration, voice rising. "This isn’t who you are! You’re just confused, Y/n!"

"Confused?" Y/n's voice broke. "You don’t even know who I am! You’ve never listened, not once! I’m not confused—I’m finally figuring it out. I’m leaving."

Tears had welled up in their mother’s eyes, but Y/n had already turned away, grabbing their suitcase. The pain in their chest was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the suffocating life they would have if they stayed. They didn’t look back.

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

---

LA was everything Anthony had promised. The lights, the energy, the thrill of the stage—it was a world that Y/n had only ever dreamed about. Performing at the Pink Pony Club became their life, the rush of adrenaline from being on stage filling every void that had once been left empty.

The first night Y/n performed with Anthony, it felt like magic. The two of them danced together, the music pulsing through their veins, lights casting them in a warm, ethereal glow. Y/n had never felt so alive, so seen. On stage, in front of the world, they were exactly who they were meant to be.

I'm up and jaws are on the floor

Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door

Black lights and a mirrored disco ball

Every night's another reason why I left it all

As the months passed, the connection between Y/n and Anthony grew stronger. It started with stolen moments backstage, laughing about the wild characters they encountered at the club. It grew into late-night conversations about their dreams, their pasts, their shared pain of feeling like outsiders. Slowly, their friendship turned into something deeper. Something more.

I thank my wicked dreams

A year from Tennessee

Oh, Santa Monica

You've been too good to me

One night, after a particularly electric performance, Y/n found themselves sitting next to Anthony on the rooftop of their tiny apartment. The city stretched out below them, buzzing with life.

"You ever think about what it would be like if it all just stopped?" Anthony asked, staring out at the skyline.

Y/n frowned, glancing over. "What do you mean?"

Anthony shrugged, his usual bravado dimmed, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his drink. "You know, if all the lights went out. If it all just... ended."

Y/n's heart clenched. "Anthony, are you okay?"

Anthony looked at them, his expression softening. "I’m fine, toots. I just think too much sometimes."

Won't make my mama proud

It's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl

I know she's gonna scream

But they knew better. There was a weight to Anthony that hadn’t been there before, and it scared them. With all the partying they did, drugs, drinking...everything had made them wonder…

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

---

The overdose came suddenly, though, in hindsight, Y/n had seen the signs. The long nights, the pills that became more frequent, the way Anthony’s laughter started to sound hollow. Y/n had tried to help, but they hadn’t known how. They weren’t enough to save him.

Anthony was gone.

Don't think I've left you all behind

Still love you and Tennessee

You're always on my mind

And mama, every Saturday

I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying

The funeral was a blur of pain. Y/n’s world crumbled, and they found themselves back in Tennessee, standing at the doorstep of the home they had once fled. The fight with their mother was inevitable.

"I told you!" she had screamed, her face red with anger. "I told you this wasn’t real! And now look! Look where it’s gotten you! God what have you done?!"

God, what have you done

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

Y/n had been too numb to argue, the guilt and grief sitting like a stone in their chest. They had felt like an outsider everywhere—LA, Tennessee, and now even in their own skin.

—

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

It wasn’t long after that Jade found themselves in the same spiral. They continued preforming but they went harder everytime. Double the alcohol, double the drugs...double the pain. The pain of losing Anthony had been too much, the crushing weight of trying to survive without him too heavy to bear. It was easier to numb it all. To slip away.

And then one day, everything went dark.

When Y/n opened their eyes, they were in Hell. Landed hard on the front steps of some hotel where people were talking.

The irony wasn’t lost on them. Hell was loud, chaotic, filled with the type of characters that would have fit right in at the Pink Pony Club. But amidst the chaos, there was one face they never expected to see again.

Anthony.

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

Except now, he wasn’t Anthony. He was Angel Dust, a larger-than-life version of the man Y/n had fallen in love with. It was shocking at first, seeing him again. Y/n’s breath had caught in their throat, their heart racing as Angel dust sauntered over, that familiar smirk on his lips.

"Toots? Is that really you?" Angel asked, voice teasing, but there was something soft in his eyes.

Y/n nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. They couldn’t believe it.

"Well, well," Angel grinned, "guess you really couldn’t stay away from me, huh?"

I'm gonna keep on dancing

And just like that, the years of pain, the grief, the loneliness melted away. They were back together, in Hell of all places, but it didn’t matter. They found a new club, one even better than the Pink Pony Club. The lights were brighter, the crowds wilder, and on stage together, it felt like they had never been apart.

I'm gonna keep on dancing

Y/n and Angel performed night after night, their love for each other rekindling, this time without the weight of the world dragging them down. The bad was still included...but it was dulled. It felt more at home at the end of the night. In Hell, they could be exactly who they were meant to be.

#my fic #x reader #requests open #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust #chappell roan #pink pony club #pink pony girl #los angeles #angel dust x reader

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bcbdrums · 2 years ago

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Choose: Dr. Drakken or Shego?

are you asking for a poll...? or just me personally?

well... Shego is why i initially watched the show. saw this bombshell with hair i want and a knockoff harley quinn/power rangers costume, and then Mira Nova's voice (Nicole Sullivan) came out of her... i was watching the show for Shego. you know how when u watch a show hoping to see one character? yeah. i watched KP for Shego. same as how i initially watched BTAS for Catwoman (and then came to love every single aspect of that show! perfect in animation!).

anyway, so yeah... and then in fandom, i was initially drawn to Shego's motivations... trying to figure out what makes her tick. i then allowed myself to become interested in Drakgo and how she fit into that... could she allow herself to trust, which has to come before love... and through exploring Drakgo i got interested in Drakken.

Drakken... i relate to him a lot. someone who wants to be part of the crowd but is missing the mark along the way and doesn't get why. smart, just wants a little attention from his peers/friends... again doesn't get why they don't fulfill that desire in him... relentless and passionate, will absolutely stop at nothing... a lonely outcast who did everything right along the way, and was still left out. i think there's a little bit (or a lot) of Drakken in all of us.

i think as characters, Drakken stands alone better than Shego does. she kind of fades away without him. she is written as a side-kick and isn't really given anything else. since her only motivation is a love for evil, and anything else is speculation...yeah. it's hard for me to say i'd pick one of them. the ship and its complexities and challenges appeals to me so, so greatly. and i wouldn't have watched the show if not for Shego. but i find Drakken to be the deeper character.

sounds like i lean toward Drakken. at least, i could enjoy Drakken as a character if Shego didn't exist. but...i can say the same about her i suppose, since it's her personality, her beauty (but i can't stand her costume...i just can't. as a kid i'd stare at it in abject frustration and my brain would try to make sense of the asymmetry and just get more frustrated), Nicole's voice acting...

as you can see, i'm just going back and forth. i don't think there's an answer to this one. they are diff chars who i like for diff reasons, and...together they're just perfection.

#queued post #kim possible #drakken #drakgo #drakken x shego #shego

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skaruresonic · 10 months ago

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Oh Jesus Christ, not the "they scalped people" argument again. Why do these dickheads always bring up scalpings like some sort of gotcha...

Hey, quick question: am I now allowed to hold "your ancestors blood-eagled their victims" over every WASP I see? No real reason I'm asking, just out of curiosity.

Every single time someone mentions indigenous violence in a bid to make the public consider the indigenous tribes of history morally gray, I guarantee you it is not to point out how indigenous societies are complex, because the thought typically ends on a commonly-recognized image of indigenous brutality: scalpings, Aztec human sacrifice, slavery, tribal wars.

Others' understanding of our history stops at ancient acts of violence to which we must forever be chained. Even though, according to that logic, we ought to hold modern-day Romans accountable for how their ancestors horrifically crucified people.

Indigenous acts of peace, coexistence, and alliance, on the other hand, are conveniently and routinely ignored. None of you in this Chili's have heard of the Two-Row wampum and it shows. I have legit never heard a single non-Native bring it up, mostly because people in general have never heard of it. And the reason they've never heard of it is because it doesn't fit this presupposed narrative of pre-colonial Indians being anything less than warmongering savages.

We're rarely portrayed as "complex" as in "created a society with such little rape that it shocked European colonists." Never complex as in "struck a treaty of friendship and trust with Dutch settlers where we call each other 'brother' instead of 'father' and 'son': an agreement to coexist in peace following many frustrated attempts at communication." No, it's always "complex" as in: "Don't forget they used to scalp people, too! Did you forget? Let me remind you for the 1,000th fucking time, just in case you were inclined to think of Native people as able to ~behave themselves~ for two seconds. I am certain my insistence on using the visceral imagery of scalpings carries no racist overtones whatsoever. What do you mean, more white people scalped Indians than Indians scalped other Indians because they were selling that shit to the government for sport? INDIANS WERE NOT UWU SMOL BEANS EITHER, YOU KNOW."

Furthermore, I can't help but notice folks use violence as a way of making us seem more human… as if there is no other way of humanizing us in the eyes of others. Violence is the only language violence recognizes. And it is a way of dismissing our genocide via colonialism by implying we deserved it somehow. Because we were not "perfect" victims, it lifts the burden of conscience from people's minds.

---

"Native American cultures had plenty of interpersonal violence. In what is now the eastern US, competition over land led often to warfare, and in eastern North America, captives were routinely tortured to death, with the entire community participating in that torture, which was seen as a chance for the captive to demonstrate stoicism that reflected well on their own people, while at the same time giving the torturers the opportunity for revenge."

pLeNtY oF iNtErPeRsOnAl ViOlEnCe, as if that A.) is in any way comparable to colonialism and B.) means anything when history has proven that we were frequently capable of cohabitation and settling our differences without bloody conflict.

You seem to have missed the point that Native tribes formed alliances just as often as they warred. The Haudenosaunee may be the most famous, but there are multiple inter-tribal alliances throughout history. They just don't get a lot of press. Because why would they. They contradict your mental image of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom Aztecs ripping the hearts out of people's chests.

Also, the Haudenosaunee? The People of the Longhouse? The Six Nations, formerly known as the Five Nations? Haʔ Akunęhsyę̀·niʔ hęʔ? We're still here. As in today. Right now. Always been here. Never went anywhere. Never going anywhere. That's more than can be said for other historical alliances.

You're not saying anything new by saying people have always been violent towards one another. No shit, Sherlock, part of the origin story of the Haudenosaunee is that the Five Nations used to fight each other. The violence of our past is not news to us, and treating us as though we act as though we're somehow hiding that part of our history in order to present the world a squeaky-clean image is to treat us as though we are as equally ignorant as you. Therefore the only possible thing you could be saying here is "It's okay, they really were savages." And no one in this Chili's ever really seems to consider that, from our perspective, the colonists were just as violent as we were, if not more. To the point where us ~violent savages~ took notice and commented on it. We don't call George Washington "the town destroyer" because he rolled up into town saying pretty please.

You realize the flaw in your logic? We were violent and imperialistic just like every other group in history, and that's grounds enough to dismiss anything we say on the matters of white supremacy and imperialism. But if the colonists were acting such fools that even we were like "damn, dude," then just how violent and imperialistic could we have been, really? And what does it say, then, that the colonists never had their "damn, dude" moment when it came to our genocide?

People who have beef with "Turtle Island" are so weird, dude. It's just a name. Nobody's insisting it's this place's only name and that everyone has to use it. The other person decided to use it once and you're all "nOt aLl InDiAnS" about it. Okay.

Yeah no, you don't give a shit about Salish, Seminole, Nahua, or Navajo views of the world because you don't actually tell us what they call the world. You're just using them as rhetorical chess pieces. In case you're confused about the context, the OP of the post I screenshotted created the above reblog as a response to this portion of another's post:

And while, yes, this is a tad reductive and does not reflect the experiences of all Native tribes across the continent (who's treating who like the monolith again, OP? hmm), it also carries a grain of truth which would be equally disingenuous to ignore. When the colonists first began living among the Haudenosaunee, they were surprised by the zero amounts of rape they saw. I am not exaggerating that number. They looked, but they did not see a single rape in their time there. The most damning conclusion you should take away from that is not that a lack of rape is a random fluke of an otherwise dark human nature; it's that the colonists had been expecting rape as a natural matter of course and were surprised to see its dearth among a society they assumed to be more "primitive" than theirs. Rather than reflect on their beliefs and perhaps do some soul-searching on why they expected to see rape everywhere they fucking went, they shrugged and were like "idk dude." (The men did, at least. The women noted the disparity in how they were treated, and thus the seeds for suffrage were planted.) They did not seem to realize that the reason rape was so prevalent in their culture was because rape is the byproduct of a societal attitude which treats people like possessions. Remove the dehumanization and you eliminate a lot of the impetus for rape.

The Haudenosaunee's lack of rape is due to a variety of factors. One among them being that women are considered people first and foremost, not objects, and another being that Haudenosaunee culture does not allow the kind of fuckery that enables abuse. If a man hit his wife, he would see his things strewn outside the Longhouse door the next day, and he was fully expected to pack up and leave without protest. Our society takes measures to ensure abuse is not tolerated at a material level that engenders Actual Consequences for the abuser. If you prove unable to treat people with a baseline level of respect, you have no business being part of society to begin with. By contrast, Christianity made divorce nearly impossible and thus trapped many women in abusive marriages. This worldview heavily colors Western perceptions of Haudenosaunee culture to this day, and "women have an equal say in how things are run"/"we are matrilineal" tends to be misinterpreted as "they are a matriarchal society (read: patriarchy except Uno-reversed)" and "women wear the pants." In reality, our society is gender equitable. Women only seem to "have power" when they have a say and your baseline perspective is "women ought to have no say."

Re. scalping, another popular refrain of the "um, ackshually" crowd. As I have said earlier in this post, more Indians were scalped by white people than white people were scalped by Indians and Indian-Indian scalpings put together. White people sold Indian scalps to the government, yet no one ever brings that up in discussions of this ilk. Gee, I wonder why.

"The US is not a monolith" - Cry me a river. The government killed 95% of us regardless of who we were or where we were from. The colonists might have deemed some tribes more "civilized" than others, but you have to keep in mind that it was a divide-and-conquer tactic. Their paying lip service to some tribes' supposed "civility" didn't prevent them from attempting to kill and/or assimilate all of them.

"Which part of the US?" - You are being obtuse. The federal government. The elected body chosen to represent this country and its interests. The government that made us move to inhospitable climes and then forbade us from moving anywhere else, ripped children out of their homes, placed them in residential schools and beat the language out of them. The structures they erected which operate on indigenous oppression to this day.

Our genocide never stopped, by the way. It just donned a fancier-looking suit. Instead of kidnapping children and sticking them in boarding schools, social services simply invent bullshit reasons to take kids away from their parents so they can be placed in the foster system and lose their culture. They criminalize poverty and wonder why Indians are suicidal. They do nothing about missing and murdered indigenous people. They send bodybags instead of clean water or masks. This world makes it almost impossible to be indigenous and then blames Indians for not trying hard enough. We mention white supremacy because the US cannot exist as it is today without our genocide. Manifest Destiny was a deliberate project of white supremacy, and our elimination through death or force was regarded as the ultimate "solution" to the "Indian problem." It was all very much intentional.

The government will never acknowledge it as such, however, because acknowledging it requires them to admit on some level that the country's very foundations are illegal.

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elio-monroe · 1 year ago

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sad

it sucks i dont know when i'll get therapy again so just kinda putting something here so i remember it later i guess. im really struggling right now with writing cherries. and its for a dumb reason. i just can't stop thinking about how im writing all of this, how i've been writing all this for four years. and how im putting all this editing in to it and when im done... thats it. i'll close the document and never look at it again. hardly any of my friends will actually read it, bc its nearly 90k words and im not a published author so they aren't going to want to spend that much time on it. and like thats fine, im not going to throw a fit and force people to do something they don't want to do.

but at the same time how am i suppose to be happy with it when it done. i'll have written this massive thing that i'm so passionate about and well thats it. i keep thinking about how i could say ive finished the edits and its done today. that would be a lie but its the same outcome even if it was true. id say its done and then it would sit and no one would read it or even say a single word about it.

and i guess what im suppose to say is that i'd be happy i wrote something. say that im happy i made art even though no one is looking or paying attention. and im a dick if im upset about the lack of attention.

it just sucks so much. i hate feeling this way. i've worked really really hard to not care if my friends like my drawings or not, i don't care if people don't like my films or want to watch them. but i always get sad about my writing and i hate it because it just makes me a huge dick. like why can't i get over myself? im not even a good writer. im bad at drawing, im bad at filming, and im bad at writing yet i get really really upset at the reality that no one will read my stuff.

i just want this solved. i want my brain to work so that way when i finish cherries and close the tab for the final time i won't be a mess.

and trust me i've tried to stop writing and i just can't. idk if anyone knows how to like force yourself to stop writing my all ears. because honestly its so frustrating to be like this! i'm a nobody!! my life doesn't matter in the slightest and my impact on people's life is equivalent to a fly in their house. i'm so fucking good at being a nobody yet my big ass ego won't let me rest with writing! if i could grind myself down more i would! in fact im trying every day to be less and less!

please brain just give up and let me write in peace. stop tempting me with this idea that "people will really like this one!" no they won't! its pointless to even think about it because you know i'm not making this for an audience. i never wanted to be published. i never want to be known. i just want to make my stuff while no one ever looks at me because if they look at me thats bad. i've done something bad. if anyone even reads cherries that isn't me its because i forced them and thats bad so no one can fucking read it.

#long post #not worth your time im just rambling and being mentally ill

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anli-rambles · 8 months ago

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ADHD is ✨quirky and cute✨ until it ruins your relationships with others over bs you have no control over. I have time blindness, and while I'm very good at estimating how long it's going to take me to do something or go somewhere, I'm almost always late to meetings and appointments and sometimes even work because I can blink and 10 minutes have passed somehow. I once ended up in the hospital after passing out because I was so hyperfocused on a passion project that I forgot to eat, drink or sleep for 36 hours straight and I only stopped when my body collapsed.

I've lost friends because I'm 'too much to handle' and 'too intense'. Yes, I talk and ramble a lot. Very often about the same thing. No, I don't always realize that it's overwhelming for you. If you don't tell me then I might never notice until you snap at me, and by then it's already too late. I can't learn or work the same way you do. I have horrible object permanence and will forget to do or bring something if it's out of my sight for too long. And no, I can't just "try harder"; my brain is literally wired differently. I can't will the ADHD away.

I have horrible insomnia because my brain just won't shut up. I have to write all of them down first just so I can go to sleep, and sometimes that takes hours. I say things that often get me into trouble because in the moment I don't realize that other people can interpret it in a way I don't mean. It makes me feel like a fucking alien most of the time because it always feels like I just don't fit in. If I can't work with other people, if I can't keep a single friendship because I'm too much to handle, then what the fuck am I even meant for ?

Not to mention that people will treat you like you're dumb, or make you feel like you are in general. I know it's frustrating that you have to repeat yourself every single time. Trust me, I know. I have those talks with myself ALL. THE. TIME. Do you think I like not being able to do normal people things ? Do you think I like being forgetful and disappointing people ? Because I sure as hell fucking don't. It makes me feel awful about myself and it's depressing as hell. Not to mention how lonely it gets.

I don't expect people to cater to me cuz it doesn't matter either way. In one scenario, I'm a burden because you have to adapt and do extra work to deal with me. In the other, I'm also a burden because I can't get shit done. It's a lose-lose situation no matter what you or I do.

ADHD isn't only about not being able to pay attention in class or sit in place for too long. It affects actual adults in massive ways, and no, you don't just "grow out of it". Medication helps but it's temporary, when the effects wear off I can't even keep focus long enough to watch a 30-minute episode of a show I like in its entirety. ADHD can be seriously debilitating and I'm tired of people acting like it's not. And every time I voice my frustrations, I always get the same answer : "stop using your ADHD as an excuse for being lazy". ADHD isn't an excuse, it's a DISABILITY. You wouldn't tell a paraplegic person that they can't use being paraplegic as an excuse for not climbing Mount Everest. No amount of willpower will get their legs to work just like it won't make my ADHD go away.

Like I know we all love making ADHD seem cool but like, don't forget it's actually a disability? My ADHD is bad enough I've nearly been evicted for forgetting to mail the rent check to the property manager, I've forgotten to pay the utility bills and had my water or power get turned off or had to pay fines bcs I missed a credit card payment. Once I was supposed to cat sit for a friend and I lost the house key she gave me but didn't realize until she was already out of town, and she had to call the apartment office to get someone to give me the spare so her cats would have food for the week. When I'm unmedicated I can't even get myself to shower half the time, forget eating or cleaning. Before I started living with my fiance I'd just like, not eat for days because I didn't have anyone to remind me to eat or go buy me food. I've forgotten to turn the stove off so many times and ruined kettles and tbh been DAMN fucking lucky the house didn't burn down. I've done stupid, impulsive shit that's nearly gotten me KILLED. I can't remember to close the shower curtain reliably even through my fiance points out every single time I forget, and he's almost out of soap rn bcs for the last MONTH neither of us have been able to remember to order more once we get out of the shower.

I've had such bad memory my entire life that to this day someone suggesting I forgot something because I simply didn't care enough is a legitimate trigger that, in the worst cases, makes me have a breakdown.

I get that for some of you this is just something that makes studying hard or you forget to take a pee break when you're playing Minecraft or whatever, that's still a valid struggle and you do deserve help and understanding, but like, ADHD is a disability. It's disabling. It's not impossible to improve and learn coping skills, meds help a lot, there are great accommodations out there(LIKE CLEANING SERVICES), but not every case of ADHD is the same, and a lot of them are pretty ugly ngl, and just because you managed to do something doesn't mean someone else is gonna be able to manage it too, or that they're being lazy for struggling. And that obviously doesn't mean ADHD people have a free pass to never work on themselves and make everyone cater to their every need or whatever, but we do deserve some understanding when we explain that our disability is actually disabling in ways that aren't palatable to you. So like, idk, maybe don't immediately recoil in horror when you find out that someone with ADHD can't keep their house clean. And for fucks sake don't ridicule them for it.

#rant

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iwas-baby · 4 years ago

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“affection”

iwaizumi hajime x f! reader

tw/cw: insecurities, beauty standards, mentions of cheating, reassurance, hurt/comfort, angst to smut, angst with a happy ending, comfort sex, make up sex, oral (f. receiving), vaginal penetration, cream pie, aftercare, lots of praise.

fights between couples was common and healthy, though in the heat of the moment words get thrown around and people say things that they don't really means. fits iwaizumi were rare, though they still happened. his eyebrows would pinch together and his hands would form fists.

both of you hated having to raise your voices, especially over insignificant issues. all you'd asked of you was to try coming home from work a little bit earlier, but with all the stress that had been on his back iwaizumi found himself snappier than usual.

"you really don't trust me, do you?" his eyes narrowed and you felt yourself shrink. you didn't want to feel so upset every time someone yelled at you but all you wanted was a bit more of his time, to feel special, to feel loved.

"that's not what i said, hajime," you reply, just as angry deep down, "i just don't know why you come home hours after you tell me you'll be back." you had never thought iwaizumi was capable of cheating, he was too much of an honest man.

"work is busy, don't you realize we're training for the fucking olympics?!" his frustration was clear, irritation seeping through his veins. you felt your lip quiver, you just wanted to scream.

"well how am i suppose to know? you never answer my text, you-you," unable to finish your sentence, you heard him scoff.

"i what? i'm fucking other girls? i'm a cheater? if i wanted to cheat on you i would have by now?" at his words you could feel your heart sinking lower and lower. "because believe me, there've been girls a million times prettier than you and i've said no, and for what? to come home to your constant nagging?"

iwaizumi stopped, eyes widening, processing what he was actually saying as he looked into your teary, exhausted eyes. he was waiting for you to hiss back, to say something equally harsh in return, but you didn't—you couldn't.

moving from where you stood in the living room you started for your shared bedroom, not bothering to even look at your boyfriend. your mind had always been riddled with insecurities, how iwaizumi was out of your league and you'd even spoken to him about it before. your eyes stung as you simply threw yourself under the covers, hoping that crying yourself to sleep would work.

iwaizumi knew he fucked up, sitting on the couch, cursing himself for being so hotheaded, for hurting you so badly. he huffed, rubbing his temples, wondering if you'd still even want him to sleep next to you.

yes, girls had thrown themselves onto him, but cheating had never crossed his mind, he'd never considered it because they all dimmed in comparison to you.

he stood outside the bedroom door, gently knocking on it. you didn't reply and he assumed you were either too upset with him to answer or you'd fallen asleep. regardless, he slowly opened the door and found you curled up form holding your pillow close to you chest.

"baby," his tone was soft, greatly contrasting how it was earlier. iwaizumi stepped towards you, noticing your closed eyes and tear stained cheeks. with a guilty sigh, he sat down at the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your thigh.

you peeked your eyes open and you debated whether or not you would talk to him but seeing the harsh frown lines on his forehead, it was best to resolve the issue now.

"i'm sorry," you whispered, sniffling, you were too nervous to meet his eyes. you didn't have to say it but he knew what you were thinking; telling him to find another girl, someone better than yourself.

he placed his other hand on your cheek, rubbing away a single tear that manged to slip, "don't be, you don't need to apologize." his body shifted as he hovered over you, leaning his head close to your face.

"i was out of line and i know i can't take back what i said," he stopped, letting his words linger in the air, "but i want you to know that i'm all yours." you sniffled again, nodding slightly.

iwaizumi pressed a quick kiss to your lips, sliding his hand up to your waist. you gulped, letting his touch bring you that familiar comfort as he continued with his apology,

"you were right, baby, i haven't been here for you when you needed me," he kissed your lips again, "so, please, let me make it up to you. alright pretty girl?"

“okay...” your tone was soft and barely audible, iwaizumi was lucky to have heard you. he’d never felt so relieved to hear that word, all he wanted to do what to make you happy, to show you how much he cared.

he carefully moved your hips allowing you to lay flat on the bed, slowly parting your legs and giving him room to crawl between them.

"i promise i'll take such good care of you," and you knew that iwaizumi was always one to keep his promises. you let him take the hem of your pants, tugging them down to leave you in nothing but your panties. a caring smile broke his face, moving his head towards your pussy.

his hands gently grabbed your thighs, spreading you even wider as you felt him press his nose against your panties, licking through the fabric.

your quiet whimpers had already begun and soon, he'd taken off your underwear, faced with your already dripping cunt.

iwaizumi groaned, kissing you clit, lapping up your juices while teasing your hole with his tongue. he felt your plush thighs pushing against his grip, he almost chuckled, you were so cute when you squirmed.

he spared a second to look up at you, face already fucked out and heated with embarrassment. he took this and swirled your sensitive bud, feeling you tug on his hair.

“‘m gonna cum haji-ahhh,” he smirked against your cunt and like you said, your cream coated iwaizumi’s tongue as even his face.

“you’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, coming up and planting a kiss against your lips, letting you cup his face and better station his torso between your legs. you groaned, feeling how his dick was pressing against you through his pants, hard as a rock.

he began to strip of his remaining clothing before ripping off your shirt, the two of you pressed together, naked. iwaizumi peppered kisses all over your chest, fingers delicately brushing over collarbones and any beauty marks.

he met your eyes with a guilty look, still not able to fully forgive himself. you only cupped his face, pressing your lips into a soft, thin smile.

"i love you so much," he breathed out, shuffling his hips to begin to line up his throbbing cock with your slick folds. you groaned at the contact, running your hands over his neck, as you nodded.

"i love you too," with that, you felt the tip of his dick push into you, your mouth hanging open, gasping at the feeling. inch by inch, iwaizumi took his time, splitting you open on his cock.

he had bottomed out, watching your face contort in pleasure, giving you a minute to adjust. “are you feeling alright sweetheart?”

“please move, haji.” he huffed with a nod, watching you carefully as his hips began to rock back and forth. your head tilted back, the feeling of the thick veins that decorated his cock brushing against you sensitive gummy walls sending you into a state of bliss.

you could barely hear the praise and compliments he was giving you, too fucked out to process time itself. it felt as if he'd hit your g-spot more times than you could count, his fingers rolling your overstimulated clit around like it was nothing.

"you're my good girl," he spoke with such tenderness you felt like you were melting into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing the two of you even closer together.

"fuck, you're all mine." he repeated, your stomach filling with butterflies, the familar feeling of the cord in your gut snapping was getting closer and closer. you dug your nails into his back, whimpering his name, warning him about what was to come.

"it's okay baby, just let go," he talked your thought your orgasm, kissing against your lips and pecking your cheek as he finally finished chasing his own high.

his cum dribbled out of you and the two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer, his dick softening and a pool of your juices mixing on the sheets.

"i love you, never forget it." he kissed your lips for the nth time that evening, this one filled with just the same passion. you sniffled, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"i love you too, haji," you spoke against his skin, feeling him pull out of you, letting your head gently rest against the pillow, promising to come back with a damp towel and some water.

as soon as he cleaned the two of you up, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. his arms wrapped around you, bringing a smile to your face, his protective nature and comforting embrace was just what you needed.

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

Text

“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

#the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #kol mikaelson smut #smut

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itsadamcole · 4 years ago

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alive

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

it’s Drew’s wedding day and reader has a secret ...

word count: 4.3k+

warnings: friends to lovers, cheating, smut, kinda angsty

— hi hi. here y’all go —

masterlist || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

"You have to tell him today, Y/N," your best friend and former Raw Women's Champion Charlotte Flair says. "He's getting married. After today, he's gone."

You're putting on your red lipstick to match your red satin gown as you say, "Char, I love you, but he's my best friend. His happiness comes before anything, including my feelings."

Charlotte blinks at you and says, "You'll regret it."

You finish up your makeup and say, "I won't if it means that he's happy. If that's not with me, fine. I'd rather not tell him and stay friends, instead of telling him and losing my best friend."

The Queen stares at you and says, "You're missing an opportunity. He obviously cares for you and he wants you in his life, even after the drunken sex incident a few years ago."

You cringe at the thought of the drunk sex you had with him. You both were just signed to NXT and became instant friends. You always felt some kind of connection with Drew, and he felt the same way about you. One night, the night he won the NXT Championship at Takeover Brooklyn III, you both went out drinking. Both of you drank too much and you spilled how you felt.

Back then, it was a little crush. Now, about three and a half years later, you're in love with your best friend. He met his soon-to-be wife almost right after the drunk and sex-filled night you had with him, and he always gushed to you how in love he was with her and how he wants her in his life forever.

When he told you he was going to propose to her, that was the moment you decided to keep your feelings to yourself. He wanted to marry her, and you wouldn't get in the way of his happiness.

So, you let it go. His fiance asked you to be her maid of honor since you were Drew's closest female friend, and you said yes. You've grown close with Drew's fiance and she's an amazing person. They're cute together, and you won't ever get in the way of that.

"Hello? Earth to Y/N?" Charlotte says. "You better have zoned out thinking of ways to tell Drew that you love him."

You sigh and finish getting ready before saying, "I am not telling Drew that I love him. That is not happening, Charlotte. His happiness means too much to me, and so does our friendship."

Frustrated, you leave the room. You wander around for a bit, and of course, you find yourself outside of Drew's room. You knock gently and you hear Drew say, "Come in."

So you open the door and walk inside, hiking up the dress a bit so you don't trip over it.

The dress is a red satin mermaid style gown. The dress is tight until it gets to your knees, where it flares out. You're wearing black heels under the dress because you couldn't find a pair of red heels that paired well with the dress.

Drew looks at you and says, "Wow, look at ya. I was with ya when ya bought the dress and ya still look beautiful."

Your face turns red and you eye up the Scottish man in front of you. He's already in his suit and his hair is in a neat ponytail on the back of his neck. "And you look handsome in that suit of yours," you say. "I've wondered what suit you got."

"It's not too much?" he asks. "I tried t'go with the traditional American suit but I think I overdid it."

You giggle and notice his tie is a little off so you walk over to him and say, "You need to work on your tie tying skills, McIntyre. It's crooked."

Drew laughs as you start to fix his tie. Even with heels on, he's still several inches taller than you and you have to reach up to fix his tie. You stand close to him and you can smell the cologne he's wearing. It's your favorite, but you've never told him. You haven't told him a lot of things.

The Scotsman says, "Yer face is red, Y/N."

Quickly, you say, "Must've added too much blush when doing my makeup." Your face is red because you definitely are standing a little too close to Drew.

After an eternity, you finally finish fixing his tie and you back away, admiring your work. You chefs kiss and say, "Perfect."

Drew laughs and says, "I don't know what I would do without ya, Y/N."

"You would be lost with crooked ties without me," you tease.

The taller man smiles at you and says, "I definitely would be walking around with crooked ties."

This is why you'll never tell him that you love him. You don't want to lose this. Missed opportunity? Oh well, you want Drew in your life and if omitting how you feel keeps him in your life then you will never tell him.

You almost admire the man standing in front of you. The dark color of the jacket and pants brings out his bright blue eyes. The jacket is a tight fit and the pants he's wearing hug his butt nicely. He has a little thing of white flowers attached to his jacket.

"Yer staring, Y/N," Drew says, bringing you back to reality. "And ya look like ya have something to say."

Quickly, you shake your head and say, "I don't have anything I want to say. I just wanted to come by and say hi and good luck today."

Drew says, "Yer face says otherwise. Ya can tell me, ya know. Nothing will change, Y/N."

You almost let your guard down and tell him but instead, you say, "Fine, you look handsome and I was caught a little off guard. Took me back to that night a lifetime ago."

His face softens and he asks, "The night I won the NXT Championship?" You nod in response. "That was one of my favorite nights since I moved over here a while ago."

Surprised, you mumble, "It was my favorite night ever."

"I wish we could've just had more than that one night," you admit.

Drew says, "I met my fiance a week later, Y/N. Trust me, that night between us was amazing, and I wouldn't change that for anything. I fell in love with my fiance almost immediately, and wanted to do everything for her."

You say, "I know, Drew. I'm just saying that I wish that we could have had more than one night together. It was never off the table for me."

He says, "It was for me. I got into a relationship I was happy in and I didn't want t'ruin that."

You begin to get upset and you say, "I get that, Drew. I wasn't going to ask you for sex while you were in a relationship. You were happy, and that's all I care about. I've put aside my feelings and did what I could to keep you happy. I said yes to being her maid of honor, I helped with every single detail because I know you so well. Everything I did over the past year was because I love you.”

Drew's jaw almost drops and your eyes widen when you realize that you let how you felt slipped.

"I'm about t'get married and ya lay this on me now?" he says, accent thick. You can't tell if he's angry or upset that you told him.

You sigh and say, "It doesn't have to mean anything, okay? I'll just leave you to finish getting ready and we can talk about this later. I'm sorry." You turn to walk away and feel tears prick your eyes.

As you walk to the door, you hear Drew say, "This doesn't mean nothing, Y/N. This means everything. I can't just ignore that ya just told me ya loved me."

"You can't do anything anyway," you sigh. "You're getting married today, in less than three hours. I'm sorry I even said anything. Just enjoy your day and we'll talk whenever you get a chance."

Drew says, "I have a chance t'talk t'ya right now, Y/N. Stop running away."

Your hand is on the doorknob and you say, "I'm not running away Drew. I'm walking away before I can embarrass myself even more."

The Scot says, "Yer just telling me how ya feel. That's not embarrassing, Y/N."

"It is when I'm telling my best friend on his wedding day that I love him," you sigh, voice shaky. "It's so embarrassing, especially when I have had so many chances before today to tell you how I felt."

There are footsteps behind you and you feel a presence behind you. "Why haven't ya told me?" Drew asks, voice a couple of octaves lower than it usually is.

You turn around and look up at Drew before you say, "You're my best friend, Drew. You were happy and I could never get in the middle of your happiness or stop you from being happy. I was scared that if I told you then you would leave because you make me feel alive. When I met you, I felt like I could breathe for the first time because I was so alone in an unfamilar until I met you. When we met on NXT, you had just come back and it was my first time in WWE. When we met and we became friends, I felt relieved that I made a friend. That's why I never told you because I was scared."

Drew's eyes are on your face and you stare up at him. You sigh and continue, "Then you met her, and I could tell you were happy. Truly happy. I became her maid of honor to make your day special. I planned my best friend's wedding, putting all feelings aside. I didn't want to ruin your day, which I'm pretty sure I already have."

The man in front of you is quiet for a few minutes and tension builds in the air. He reaches out and cups your face in his hands. They're rougher than they were all those years ago. "I think ya lied t'me when ya told me ya added too much blush when ya were putting on yer makeup because yer face didn't turn red until I touched ya."

You didn't even realize that your face was heating up when Drew touched your face. You stare up at the Scotsman as you say, "I said that because I didn't want to tell you the truth."

"I wish ya told me how ya felt," Drew says, eyes flickering down to your lips. "I really wish ya did."

Before you can stop yourself, you grab the collar of Drew's jacket and you say, "Well I'm telling you now even though you can't do anything about it. I am in love with you."

Drew's thumbs run across your cheekbones before he says, "I hope I told ya how beautiful ya look in that dress. I'm almost happy that I'm one of the first people t'see ya in it."

"You're making this harder on me than it already is," you sigh, staring up at Drew.

The Scotsman kisses your forehead and you close your eyes before he mumbles, "I'm sorry, Y/N."

You look up at Drew and he stares down at you, eyes wandering all over your face as you give in to what you really want. You get on your very tiptoes and pull Drew down to you before bringing your lips to his.

As soon as your lips touch Drew's, you feel guilt and you feel selfish. You're kissing another woman's fiancee. This is wrong, but it doesn't feel wrong. He slowly kisses you back, deepening the forbidden kiss.

Drew's lips are softer than you remember. Maybe because the kisses you last shared with him were rough and you were drunk. His hands leave your cheeks and land on your waist. He walks forward, forcing you to take a few steps backward until you're pressed against the door. Drew pins your hips to the door and you pull back from the kiss.

Your lipstick is all over his lips and you try not to laugh as you say, "We shouldn't be doing this, Drew. You're about to get married in a few hours. This isn't right."

"It doesn't feel wrong," Drew says, pushing a piece of your hair out of your eyes. "Before ya got here, I was debating on coming t'see ya because I wanted t'tell ya how I felt too."

"You," you trail off. "You were going to what?"

He laughs a bit and says, "Over the past week, I've been doing some soul searching and making sure that I wanted t'commit the rest of my life to someone I met and fell in love with so quickly. I asked myself these questions that were like 'what if this doesn't end well because we were in a relationship so quick?' and 'is she really the right woman for me?'. Then I thought of ya and our night together and how much ya mean t'me."

You look up at Drew and listen as he talks. You have no idea what he's trying to say but you hope he's trying to tell you how he feels.

Drew brushes a piece of hair out of your face as you say, "I hope you're trying to tell me something, Drew."

The Scotsman smiles and says, "Yer smart, Y/N. Figure it out."

Pouting, you say, "That's not fair. I told you straight up how I felt."

The taller man leans down a bit so his face is close to yours as he asks, "What would ya think if I told ya that I want another night like we had all those years ago? What if I told ya that I wanna feel ya around me again, Y/N?"

Your hands begin to shake as your mind flashes back to the night Drew fucked you in your hotel room. The way he moved makes your heart race, and there wasn't even any love or passion behind his movements. You can only imagine what he could do to you when there is.

Slowly, you say, "I would say take me right here, right now because I want to relive that night with you."

With that, Drew's lips crash to yours with such force, you gently hit the back of your head on the door. You quickly push off Drew's black suit jacket and he throws it on the floor. His hands come back up and cup your face as he kisses you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close to you, not giving him the opportunity to pull back from the kiss.

"Can ya jump, love?" Drew mumbles into the kiss.

His lips leave yours and attach to your neck as you sigh, "Not unless you want me ripping my dress in more than one place."

Drew says, "Then we'll just have t'get it off ya then, won't we." He reaches behind you and touches the zipper on your back. He pulls the zipper down and you shrug the thin dress sleeves off. Drew's eyes wander down to the dress as it falls off your body. You're wearing nothing but a pair of lace black panties underneath the dress.

A smirk forms on Drew's lips and you say, "Don't even think about it, McIntyre. I know exactly what you're thinking."

"And what am I thinking about, love?" Drew says, eyes coming back up to your face. "Enlighten me, Y/N."

You start to unbutton the white button-up Drew is wearing when you say, "I'm wearing nothing but a pair of underwear under this dress. Everyone knows what you're thinking about."

Eventually, you give up on unbuttoning the shirt and you just rip it open. Buttons fly everywhere and Drew looks down at you and his now open shirt. "Jesus, love," Drew gasps.

You leave little kisses to Drew's chest and run your fingers over his toned stomach. You say, "It's been three and a half years since you've touched me like this and seen me like this. Three and a half years too long, Drew."

The Scotsman runs his fingers down between your breasts and says, "I agree. It's been too damn long since I've touched ya or kissed ya."

Your eyes examine his bare upper body before you meet his eyes. You finally jump up and wrap your legs around Drew's waist.

"I jumped," you giggle.

Drew kisses your chest and holds you by your thighs before he walks over to the bed. You untie his hair and he lays you on your back on the bed. You stare up at him as he leans down and kisses you. You cup his face as the kiss gets deeper.

You reach down and unbutton the dress pants Drew's wearing. His finger trails down your body until they get to the waistline of your panties. They dip into your panties and he cups your core, making you gasp against his lips. He starts to play with your clit and you sigh softly.

He mumbles, "Let's get these off ya. I wanna see how wet ya are for me."

Whining, you say, "Drew, please."

He literally rips off your panties and you gasp. "Oops" is all he says.

"Those were my favorites," you pout.

Drew lays on his stomach with his face between your legs as he says, "Next time don't wear your favorite pair."

He kisses your inner thigh and you sigh, "I didn't know I would be having sex with you today."

You look down at Drew between your legs as he says, "Well, I buy ya a new pair, or a few because this won't be the last time I rip off yer underwear."

Your jaw almost drops and Drew dives into you, sucking on and kissing your clit. You put your hands in his hair and push his face into your core. He hums when he tastes you, sending vibrations into you.

Drew suddenly pushes two fingers into you and you moan softly. "God," you gasp.

"Yer so tight, love," he says. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

You don't think you can speak so you just nod. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, slowly at first. Your breathing becomes more labored and your eyes close as you're overcome with euphoria and ecstasy.

You've missed feeling Drew touching your body and kissing you. His lips feel so good on your skin when he kisses you. It's almost selfish of you that you want to keep him to yourself.

Drew adds a third digit and you moan a little louder. "Fuck," you cry out.

The Scotsman smirks and says, "I can feel ya holding back, Y/N. I can feel ya clenching around my fingers. Ya don't have t'hold back for me, love."

You look down at Drew as a pit forms in your stomach. He curls his fingers into your g-spot and you cry out, "Drew!"

"Ya gonna cum for me, love?" Drew asks. "Ya gonna cum from just my fingers?"

Nodding frantically, your head falls back onto the bed. You arch your back and moan Drew's name as you reach your climax. You release all over Drew's fingers as your toes curl.

Drew pulls his fingers out and you watch as he sucks your juices off his digits. He gets on his knees on the bed between your legs. You breathe heavily as you come down from your high. Your mind wanders off to how amazing it felt just to have his fingers inside of you.

You sit up and start to pull at Drew's pants. He kicks off his shoes and you get his pants down to his knees. Drew runs his fingers through your hair as you trace the outline of his dick in his boxers. His eyes are on yours as you hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling the thin fabric down. Your eyes widen as you watch his erect member pops out. You forgot about his size, and you wonder how that even fit inside you the first time.

"I, um,” you stammer. “I forgot how big you were, Drew.”

The Scotsman kicks off his pants and pushes you into your back. You stare up at him as he says, “I’ll make sure ya don’t forget this time, princess. Ya still on the pill?”

Nodding, you say, “Kinda. I have an IUD now because I’m so busy and sometimes forget to take the pill.”

Drew laughs and says, “Only ya would get so busy ya forget t’take yer pills.”

Giggling, you push his hair out of his face and ask, “Are you gonna keep asking what birth control I’m on or are you gonna fuck me?”

“Just wanted t’make sure, love,” he says before pushing your legs up over his shoulders. You giggle and look up at your Scotsman. His usually bright blue eyes are dark with lust as he props himself up.

You cup his face with your hands and you bring him down to you, kissing him. You feel the tip of his dick run through your soaked folds and sigh against his lips.

Drew’s lips leave yours and attach to your neck. Your eyes flutter shut and you sigh. You run your fingers up and down his arm. Then Drew slides into you slowly, making you whine softly. “Am I hurting ya, love?” he asks.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “No, it’s okay. Just move, please. I need you, Drew.”

He slides deeper into you, making you moan. “Fuck,” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut. Drew let’s you adjust to his size before he slowly starts to thrust into you.

Your breathing becomes more and more labored the faster he moves. You dig your nails into Drew’s biceps.

Drew pants and grunts as he moves faster. You cry out, “God, don’t stop, Drew! You make me feel so good inside me.”

Your words give him extra motivation and Drew starts to move harder into you. Your back arches off the bed beneath Drew’s body before Drew pins your hips to the bed.

“Tell me how much ya missed me, love,” Drew pants.

He speeds his thrusts up and you pant, “I missed you so much, Drew. I missed how good you fucked me. I missed your touch, your kisses. I missed all of you.”

The tip of his dick begins to slam into your g-spot and you moan, “Drew!”

When he realizes he found your spot, he begins to slam into it over and over again. Your walls clench around his member inside of you. The familiar pit forms in your stomach and Drew kisses your jaw.

“Oh, God,” you moan. “Yes, Drew. Make me cum again.”

Drew smirks against your skin and speeds up. The pit in your stomach bottoms out and you almost scream Drew’s name. Your legs shake as you orgasm. You didn’t even realize that Drew came inside you until he collapses onto you. You lean up and kiss Drew. Drew pulls back from the kiss almost immediately and you stare up at him. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

He’s quiet before he says, “I have t’go do something.”

Confused, you tilt your head as Drew crawls off of you. He puts on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats before he leaves the room.

Anxiety rises within you as you pull the blankets up to cover your naked body. What if this was him leaving you? What if he’s running to his fiancé to tell her what happened with you and him?

You grab one of Drew’s WWE t-shirts from his closet and put it on then put on your panties. Your phone begins to ring and see Charlotte is calling.

“Hello?” you mumble.

Charlotte says, “Um, I can hear Drew and his fiancé talking in the other room. He’s saying that he wants to call off the wedding.”

Your eyes widen and you ask, “Anything else?”

She’s quiet before she says, “His fiancé is asking why. She sounds upset. Drew just said ...” Charlotte trails off.

“Drew just said what?” you ask. “Charlotte!”

Your best friend says, “Drew just said he’s in love with someone else. He didn’t realize it until today and he said it doesn’t feel right to get married today.”

You smile and whisper, “He actually does love me.”

Charlotte asks, “Did you say something?”

“Has his fiancé left?” you ask, getting off Drew’s bed.

Your best friend is quiet before she says, “Yeah. She just got on the elevator.”

You hang up the phone and run out of the room. You run into Drew on the way to his fiancé’s room, well ex-fiancé. You basically throw yourself around the Scotsman and you hug him. “Woah, Y/N,” he says. “Relax.”

“I knew you loved me,” you whisper in his ear.

Drew smiles and hugs you tight. “Of course I do, love,” he says as you bury your face in his neck. “I love ya, Y/N.”

Slowly, you pull your face out of his neck and say, “I love you too, Drew.”

A third voice chimes in and says, “She fucking did it. She finally told him.”

You look over and see Charlotte. She’s almost beaming and you rest your forehead against Drew’s cheek before pecking his jaw by his ear.

Drew says, “Took her long enough.”

“Hey,” you pout. “You had a fiancé.”

He laughs and says, “I’m kidding, love. I’m glad ya finally told me.” He attacks your neck with kisses and you giggle.

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre smut #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #wwe imagine #wwe smut #imagines #imagine #smut #nswf imagine #smut imagine #smut prompts #smut plot

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charlieweasleyy · 3 years ago

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THE ONE WHERE WE ARE COMFORTABLE

WTN WEEK 2021 → day seven (episode seven) Hiiii friends so I decided to talk about things that bring me comfort and for me the thing that brings me the biggest comfort is the friends I've made on this board. I spend my time talking to these four basically allllll day long. If you can guess by the graphic above on who is who, but they have become some of my best friends so *drum roll* please and let me tell you about the people i consider to be my f.r.i.e.n.d.s.

MY LOBSTER Apparently, I am someone who when they find someone they mate for life. When I latched onto Elle I latched on and didn't (lol won't) let go. Like when I say she is my person I mean it with every fiber of my being. She is the soulmate. My wife. My lobster. She is like that perfect pair of sweatpants that you know are dependable and can count on and you don't want to let go of. She's like the television show that you need to put on because you've had a bad day. She's the first person I call when disaster happens. When I am having a bad day she is the first person I want to talk to and 10/10 she can say something to make it better.

We laugh until we cry and she likes to yell at me... but 9/10 I do deserve it. So, it is valid. If you see me flirting with her on the server (no you didn't) it's mostly because I can't help myself. So... just divert your eyes. It's very cliche to say that your life has changed after meeting someone, but that's what it has done. I am a better person for her, I'm more mindful, more open, and I don't think there isn't a person on this board who wouldn't say that Elle hasn't changed them for the better. It is who she is. She leaves you with something to think about, she challenges you. She pushes you. She has a heart for those who are misrepresented and misunderstood. I swear if Elle had her own talk show I'd listen to it every day. The girl is *passionate* and that is one thing I can't help but love about her. She is passionate about diversity, about the people on this board, I have watched her struggle with some hard decisions this year and how it has affected her mentally, but she also rises from the ashes because she has to. I have watched her countless times put this site above her own needs. I have watched her struggle. I have watched her doubt (herself and her future) and I have watched her wonder if she is doing the right thing. I have watched her feel remorse and pain and I'm telling you if you do not think Elle cares about WTN and everyone on this board then you've not seen her struggle the way that I've seen her struggle. It's probably why I'm so damn protective of her, but I don't regret a single second of it.

Okay, I've spent this whole time talking about how great Elle is but I've not spoken about the writing. I've run out of room... her writing is amazing, she is the one person I can respond to no matter what day I'm having and no matter what ship it is. I love all of our threads and I'm always so happy and excited to see an elle reply in my alerts waiting to be read and responded to! I find it hard to wrap them because they are just so good! If I have a day where I don't feel like doing replies good chance I'll still pull up an Elle reply because it normally makes my day better 99.99999% of the time. The .1% doesn't exist, but it's including the slight possibility of error and the fact Elle will have something to refute that claim with.

THE GIRL I'D MOVE FURNITURE WITH I don't think there is anyone else I want around my side to do some of the heavy lifting and I don't mean that in the physical sense, but in the writing sense and the mental sense too (tho I don't need to see Kae in real life to know that she's strong). You know that saying about people who struggle in silence. I think that describes Kae because sometimes it's like using a crowbar in getting her to open up and to TALK. It is one of the most frustrating things. It's kind of like a treasure box when you have the box sitting right in front of you and it is impossible to open. Okay, half the battle was finding it. You have the map in front of you and when you finally find it, it is STILL locked. That's Kae. It was quite the struggle in getting her to be open to more plots like I knew where to find and how to find her, but actually getting to Kae felt impossible even though I had all of the directions in front of me. But once you put in the time and effort to get to know her.... like *really* know her, it's like discovering treasure. Not only is she one of the most dependable writers (like I said she will carry the heavyweight in all of her threads), but she is one of the best writers! I love reading her threads even if I'm not in them, they always leave me on the edge of my seat and that characterization *chef's kiss*. MAKES JOKES WITH BC HUMOR IS BAE Oh you know the one who tells the jokes when they are uncomfortable. It is a friends reference and the only one I could think of when I thought of Aria. She makes me laugh. She probably makes me laugh more than anyone especially during WTNWeek because of these videos. When I say read something in an Aria voice I mean it! She isn't really that awkward!! But I'm sure she'll say differently so YOLO. Aria doesn't know a stranger, she pops into your DMs and suddenly it's like you have known her all of your life. We have not known one another as long as I have known Kae and Elle, but she fits in so well. Her writing is beautiful and I love how she is in my DMs daily with inspiration for our ships. I started out with zero Aria ship and Aria made two new characters just to have ships with me and I love her for that. I can gush about how amazing she is because she is one of those people who will provide you comfort. If she knows you are having a bad day, she will send you something to make you smile and she'll remind you that she loves you. And I can't even tell you how having those videos during WTNWeek has made my days a little bit better! If I'm feeling frustrated or sad I just turn one on and it has made my day ten times better. It's funny how she is young, but she is kind of my teacher. She sends me videos to help me when I don't understand something and I am SORRY Aria because you've had to send a lot of videos lately, but I don't think the staff could have made a better decision in asking Aria to hop on board. She is always so helpful and the thing is -- she *wants* to help. She wants to pitch in. She always puts her best foot forward and I love that. And cand we talk about those posting and organization skills #swoooon MY SMELLY CAT In reality I am probably singing this song to Jasmine, but I feel like you'd join in sooo here we go. I wanna preface and say I am not calling Bela a smelly cat! But she speaks in references I don't understand sometimes and sometimes she talks about these weird noises she makes so I think this description is perfect for her. Bela came into WTN and I normally have trust issues BUT I trusted my gut and Prudy is one of my favorite characters on the board. We have been trying to get her cousin on board for as long as I can remember. Prudy deserves all of the good things so I really wanted Bela to stay on board. I threw her practically everything I could think of and I am so glad I did because it has allowed us to get close over the years.

Bela and I have created some fun dynamics over the years between readie being the superior of them all, but we also created dynamics that I never expected to create like Manny, Sieun, and Dylya. They have come to be some of my FAVORITE pairings. It's kinda funny we often joke about how we only have one ship on the board, but it feel like we have a billion. Bela always enjoys sending me music, it's like when she knows I need some writing music, and that's part of the ways she fits into my comfort. Bela is a listener. She listens and she is one of those people who are easy to talk to. I enjoy sharing headcanons and future headcanons and character ideas that we won't create but would like to! I like that she is open and she is honest with me - if she is having a bad day then she'll let me know. But I also think we've talked so much that I can just tell.We are comfortable with one another and I absolutely LOVE it.

I know confetti has been going on for a while, but there are not many people you write with and write WELL with but I have found multiple people I LOVE writing with and I absolutely LOVE talking to. I have found my person (lol more like loml), my partner-in-crime (like if I'm going to go to jail I need her in my corner), my cheerleader (and child), and my ship in the night (lol, we gotta be on at the right time and at the right time to talk).

#wtnweek #wtnrp #my people

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maskthesimp · 3 years ago

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Cold Blooded, Warm Hearted - Malia Tate x Self-Insert

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, general violence and gore, crude language, monsters

If you wish to follow this fanfic more closely (as it will be a full on book hopefully) check my Wattpad in the Pinned post! It just makes everything easier~ XOXO

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Chapter 1: Paths Crossed

"Bring him," a voice rings out, fire crackles as chains gently rattle against parallel stone pillars. Echoes of footsteps ring through the halls, coming to a whisper as they enter an open space, the ground lined with sand, crunching under the small boots of he who entered the ceremony room.

"You, child of Connor, Lord of the West Territories; Here you shall evolve. Shed your skin, accept your heritage and become one of us! Take your first kill, and burn away the weakness that plagues you," the voice continues to boom through the vast space, voices whispering and muttering as the small figure makes it's way closer to the rattling chains, "Are you ready, my child?" The voice booms as a man groans, his chains shake and knock together, the heat of the fire laying ontop of his skin like a blanket waiting leap and turn him to ash, "...I am!".

Two cloaked men, jam their spears to the ground next to the younger figure, and take their place next to the chained man, "It's time for you to evolve," says the left man, "Shed your humanity." Says the man on the right. A chant erupts in the observing crowd, 'kill, shed, evolve...kill, shed, evolve...'

The young, small figure slowly walks towards the rattling chains, and the bare man constricted by them. He looks at his hands as ash red claws crawl their way out of his formerly human finger tips, wine red scales peel back up his arm, waist, chest, neck, and face, amber rings brand his once ivy green orbs. "Kill, shed, evolve," the two men echo, gripping the edges of two stone bowls on either side of the chained man, filled to the brim with molten rock, glowing with the licks of flames. The ash red claws glint in the light of the flames, and swing down, sending flicks of blood to the ground, as they melt into the already red scales of the young figure's hands.

The chant continues, over and over again, 'kill, shed, evolve, kill, shed, evolve..', the first stage having been complete. The child winces in fear and nearly stumbles back, but holds himself steady, as the two men release the heated rocks onto the scaled child. A piercing scream erupts into a roar as flames slither their way across the child's body, when he opens his eyes in agony, the burning Amber rings are replaced by a now cold, blue glow.

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[Beacon Hills High-school, Last Period]

"Hey do you guys wanna study after hours?" Stiles asks, standing up from his seat. "I need to, I have a maths test coming up soon," Malia responds, a slight pout growing on her face as she reminds herself of her least favourite class. "Cool, I'll help you out!" A tall, dark boy stands from his seat aswell, Scott, he follows his girlfriend, Malia, and his best friend, Stiles, out of the classroom. They make their way up the stairs, running into their resident Banshee, and Stiles' girlfriend, Lydia, eventually reaching the doors of the library.

They settle down at one of the central desks, each opening their books and beginning to study for their respective classes. "Ya know, we haven't had anything supernatural happen in the past few months, it gives me bad tingles in my feet, like something is gonna happen soon," Stiles squirms in his seat with his his chin resting in his palm, Lydia agrees with Stiles, "Yeh you're right, it does seem weird doesn't it? Maybe The Beast was the last big bad in Beacon Hills. Seems fitting that our last one would be the first Werewolf killed by an Argent." Scott turns to his friend, somewhat rolling his eyes, "C'mon Stiles, you're being paranoid! Not everything is supernatural in this town, we can go one year without finding a body, or having kidnappings, or giant phantom werewolves tearing people apart!" Stiles looks down at his open book, a concentrated frown on his face, "Yeh I guess you're right.."

The conversation moves on, everyone but Stiles focusing on other things. A few minutes pass, before Stiles pipes up about a new face who's entered the library,with long brown and blonde hair, light denim jeans, and a black jacket. "Who's that? I don't recognise them from the new Freshmen, are they a transfer student?" The person wanders over to the Anthropology section, also known as where the stories on Mythological creatures are, "I think so, I've seen them at the Jujitsu hall, I think they were signing up," Malia answers Stiles' characteristically unrelated and random question. She gazes off at the new figure, watching them wander around, their raw fingertips glazing over the spines of each book they pass, until eventually they stop and open one, setting themselves down at a desk behind theirs. Scott turns to his girlfriend, a confused expression stapled to his face, "Why were you near the jujitsu Hall? None of us have a single class near there." Malia directs her attention back to Scott and her friends, her focus on the new teen broken, "Hm? I find it entertaining, why else?" She says as if it's blatantly obvious, which to her friends; it is, almost confused as to why Scott would even bother asking. "They seem like they're around our age, I'm just surprised anyone is even bothering coming to Beacon Hills High anymore, let alone what appears to be a transfer student." Lydia looks up from her notes, also oddly transfixed by the person, who is now deeply involved in their own selected book, "You sure they're our age, Lydia? They're kinda short, maybe puberty is stuck in traffic for them," a chuckle comes from the group's friends Liam, Corey and Mason as they sit down next to the main four, with Scott's Beta, Liam glancing at them each one at a time as a silent greeting. "No, they likely have some form of Dwarfism, a condition that essentially puts a limiter on how tall someone can grow, although there's hundreds of different types so I can't for sure say which one they may have.." Lydia responds almost distantly, still keeping a keen yet seemingly misty eye on the new kid, everyone taking a glance at her, not at all surprised by her scientific knowledge anymore, before they all go back to silently watching the figure.

After a while Stiles stands up, and begins making his way towards the new kid's desk, but not before Scott questions what he's doing, "I'm gonna go talk to them! Every time a mysterious new student shows up something happens, what if we have another Liam? Another time bomb?" Stiles points out, accidentally taking a small dig at their friend with I.E.D, "Hey! That was Scott's fault, I didn't come here as a wolf!" Liam retorts, glaring at Stiles with a frustrated gesture, "Well technically you got yourself tossed off the side of a building, so it was sorta your fault," Mason pipes up, "That was the wendigo's fault! Not mine!" The Beta reminiscences over the time he got bitten by Scott, when he fell off the hospital roof after he was hunted by a hungry Wendigo. "Alright enough! I'm going to talk to this kid and see what their deal is, okay?" Stiles eventually interrupts the debate, settling to try and conversate with this strange new face, "Who's to say they're anything at all? You don't need to be suspicious of every new person ya know," Malia points out to Stiles, shrugging her shoulders, "listen I always trust my gut, they transferred to Beacon Hills High even after everything that's happened here, and oh look! They're reading a book on supernatural creatures! That's not suspicious at all!" The skeptic says sarcastically, before stumbling over to the desk the young figure is sitting at.

He sets himself down clumsily, glancing between the person and their book, "So..a fantasy lover?" Stiles awkwardly asks the stranger sitting before him, he looks up from his reading in an almost panicked state, suddenly closing his book most of the way, "Oh um--..Hi, yeh, just studying for History," They let out a small, awkward chuckle before introducing themselves, "Cael by the way!" They reach out, shaking Stiles' hand as he too introduces himself, "So, you a fan of Mythology too, huh?" Cael attempts to break the Ice a little, worried that his social anxiety was showing, "Yeh," Stiles stares at the back of Cael's chosen book, somewhat zoning out while reading the title; 'The Extensive History and Physiology of Dragons throughout History'. "So, you're a dragon lover aswell then?" Stiles questions the kid's taste in History so Cael explains their history project, "Pff no, I have quite the distaste for them in fact, the history project is to study a part of any culture that we fear, whether it be real, religious, or historical events that took place in a Country's past," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, explained away by his discomfort with the Winged creatures depicted in his selected book, "So, what makes you dislike them so much, just scary? Or a separate reason..?" Stiles lightly stares at the androgynous figure sitting across from him with suspicion he hopes isn't noticeable, "Because they're the most scientifically realistic, in most cases," he responds with a deadpan and almost cold stare. Stiles' mind starts running wild with theories on every word Cael spoke, the way he said them, and other meanings of what he could've meant, his gut giving him more feeling than ever that Cael wasn't who they said they were.

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[Scott's House]

"Scott I'm telling you! This kid is shifty as hell! I checked with some of the people in his class, and they don't have a history homework even close to what he described!" Stiles points out his evidence for Cael's lying, showing his continued distrust for the young lad, "Maybe he just wanted to learn about Dragons, people have interests, Stiles!" Scott argues with his friend, while he watches him rummage through his desk, clearly searching for something, "Why would he lie about something like that? What's the point of lying about an interest in something such as dragons? Why not tell the truth, unless the truth is something you wish to keep hidden?" Stiles finally appears to find what he's looking for, he holds up a hard drive that Scott recognises, the Bestiary that used to belong to the Argents.

Stiles plugs in the Bestiary to his computer, and loads up the index. He scrolls down to the Dragons section and look through it for a while, reading some useful parts out loud; "Much like other shape shifters, dragons appear as human...Dragons have various species among their communities...they have a similar hierarchy system to ancient Kings and Queens of the English Empire..." Scott looks over Stiles' shoulder, silently reading along with him, "Stiles you should head to bed, it's late and we can talk more tomorrow. Listen if something is up with this kid, then we'll eventually find out, but other than a natural interest in fire breathing lizards, he hasn't acted suspicious in the slightest." Stiles turns his spinning chair around to face Scott, "Scott, he said he hates dragons and has a fear of them," Scott's face sinks with confusion, he asks what the skeptic is talking about and Stiles responds, "Whenever I was talking to him, he said that he had a really bad fear of Dragons, when I asked why all they said was because they're the most likely supernatural creature to be exist, is that not in the least bit suspicious?" The Werewolf stands up properly, thinking in silence for a few seconds, "Scott you didn't trust me with Theo, or when I realised I was the one who wrote Kira's name on the chalk board, I just need you to trust my gut this one time!" Stiles begs his friend to go along with his hunch, but Scott seems to be somewhat distant, until he snaps his head up "He could be a hunter! Maybe he's not a supernatural but a hunter!" Stiles claps his hands and points a praising finger towards his best friend, "Yes! Now you're following along! That explains why he was researching dragons, he wasn't studying them for himself, he was trying to figure out ways to defend himself or--"

"Kill them.." Scott quickly interrupts, his gaze sinking to the floor, "That's it, tomorrow we inform the rest of the Pack, and we find him. We'll question him, if my hunch is right and he's a hunter, then he poses a risk to all of us. Including any humans who are involved with protecting the supernatural, aka me! I only have a metal bat to protect myself so it'd be nice to have a heads up on this guy!" Stiles retorts with a snarky undertone, Scott nods his head, agreeing and saying goodnight to his partner in crime before heading home, the last thing he needs is his girlfriend climbing through the window to find his room Scott-less.

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#scott mccall #lydia martin #derek hale #stiles stilinski #liam dunbar #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #self insert #self ship #malia tate #fanfic #self insert fanfic #canon x self insert

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firstumcschenectady · 3 years ago

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“The Fabled Wisdom of Solomon” based on 1 Kings 2:10-12 and 3:3-14

(Image: Lamp of Wisdom, Waterperry Gardens, Oxfordshire, England)

What I wouldn't give for the wisdom of Solomon right now. I've prayed for it already, lack of asking isn't the issue. Life feels like a series of unanswerable questions. “Is this safe?” “Is this wise?” “Is this fair?” “Who does this exclude?” “Whose needs does this meet?” “How do I create balance?” “Whose needs do I prioritize?” “How can I find a middle way?” “How do I manage risk? As a person? As a parent? As a pastor?” “What are the risks of NOT doing the thing?” “How do they compare to the risks of DOING the thing?” “How worried should I be?” “How courageous should I be?”

I'll stop. It's probably unpleasant to hear already, and truthfully those are MOST of the questions, they just repeat a lot. Furthermore, these are variations on the themes of everyone's questions, maybe with a little bit more pressure on those making decisions for others or for groups.

We're nearing 18 months of pandemic based impossible decision making. I'm also nearing 15 months of parent based impossible decision making, which has led to SO MUCH more respect for every other human who parents or offers caregiving. (I already had respect for those things, but my respect has increased exponentially.)

I find myself thinking about presidents who wear the same thing every day, or offload trivial decisions so that they can keep their capacities for the important stuff. I remember articles about how our decision making capacities are finite, and I think about how incredibly overwhelming it has been to be in this “new world” where everything carries risk and every decision is suddenly BIGGER.

And I want to be Solomon. I want to be blessed by God to be wise. I want God to give me “a wise and discerning mind.” I want to know what to do!!!!!!

But even as I say this, I realize that I have projected onto Solomon and on to this blessing from God a supernatural sort of wisdom and discernment. I've read this story and assumed that Solomon always knew what to do, and was always right when he decided. But, I don't actually BELIEVE that. That would be superhuman.

(Also, if that were true, then the kingdom of Solomon likely would have outlasted … say … Solomon because he would have been able to fix the underlying issues and pick a good successor.)

Which means that the Bible has just served as a very good inkblot test for me to realize that in the midst of incredible uncertainty, certainty would be superhuman. (Or dangerous. That's another way this can go.) I yearn to feel good about decisions, but that's not possible right now. I yearn to feel confident as I decide, but that isn't possible right now either. I yearn, truthfully, to pass my authority off to someone wiser, more prepared, better read – but no one knows the struggles and the questions I face quite like I do, so there isn't anyone to pass them to.

John Wesley's “Three Simple Rules”: “First do no harm, then do all the good you can, and stay in love with God” have never seemed so hard to work with!

To keep the challenging more challenging, people judge each other on decisions. I can't remember the last time I had a conversation that didn't involve either 1. someone who had to make hard decisions struggling with what is right OR 2. someone who doesn't have to make the decisions frustrated with those who made them. I hear clergy and bosses worrying over safety procedures, balancing risk tolerance with the will of the body with the needs of the vulnerable. And, at the same time, I hear others complaining on ALL sides.

I'm definitely not Solomon, but I want to offer to all of you some of the models and tools I bring to discernment, under the assumption that we're all bogged down by the weight of all these decisions. Welcome to a pragmatic sermon. ;)

In terms of the pandemic itself, I've been really grateful for an idea I heard put into words in the NY Times in June of 2020.

Manage your exposure budget

Risk is cumulative. Going forward, you’ll need to make trade-offs, choosing activities that are most important to you (like seeing an aging parent) and skipping things that might matter less (an office going-away party). Think about managing virus risk just as you might manage a diet: If you want dessert, eat a little less for dinner.1

During a pandemic, every member of the household should manage their own exposure budget. (Think Weight Watchers points for virus risk.) You spend very few budget points for low-risk choices like a once-a-week grocery trip or exercising outdoors. You spend more budget points when you attend an indoor dinner party, get a haircut or go to the office. You blow your budget completely if you spend time in a crowd.2

This has been super helpful. I often call it the “risk budget.” We all have different risk tolerance, and we have different things we particularly value and need. I hear from many families with kids that day care or school are imperative to someone in the family's well being, and so they do it. But then their risk budget is spent. I hear from others that going to work and being exposed to a whole lot of people is already an over extension of their risk budget, and they fear bringing something home to their kids, so they don't do anything else.

I'm mentioning this right now, because people without kids or other unvaccinated people in their households have had an increase in risk tolerance, and aren't always seeing how carefully others have to manage their risk budget. And, for some in our community that means not coming to worship – even outside, even masked, even distanced – because even that TINY bit of increased exposure is more than the budget can handle.

It isn't really a FUN thing, a risk budget, but it brings a model to something otherwise incredibly overwhelming. Deciding on each individual activity separately is simply too much for any of us, so a budget gives us a guideline on how to make decisions. It also reminds us that we're working with different budgets and different expenditures, and none of us need to judge how someone else makes their decisions.

Not quite the fabled wisdom of Solomon, I'll grant, but a tool nonetheless.

Another simple tool is one I've mentioned before. “Daily examen” is a prayer process. It is quite simple. You center yourself, ask for God's help, review the past 24 hours, identitfy when you felt most alive and connected with love, identity when you felt most disconnected from life and love, thank God for the best the worst and all that's in-between, and either share that information with another person or write it down. It is entirely too easy to zombie our way through life, especially in the surreal pandemic times. But taking the time to be reflective helps us learn about life, ourselves, God, and what we value. It helps us learn what we need to change, and what we actually love about our lives as they are. This is the single best discernment tool I know, although it is most useful for BIG HUGE decisions that can be made over an extended period of time.

My final “simple” tool is one of those deceptive ones. It is simple, in ideas, but it is much harder in practice. It is: trust God to be working in and through you. That is, notice when something feels off-kilter in you, and trust that it is significant and matters. THIS is the most subversive thing I'm saying today. Trust the wisdom of your body as being connected to the wisdom of the Divine, and when a decision brings a dull ache to your gut or any other part of your body STOP and listen. Figure out what emotions fit into that ache. Then, figure out what needs are under that emotion. (Handy-dandy helpful pdf chart here: Feelings/Needs). We KNOW more than we think we do, and God often works with us in subtle and embodied ways. As we learn to trust ourselves, we are learning to trust God-who-is-with-us-and-for-us.

Well friends, it doesn't feel like much, and it DEFINITELY doesn't feel like the fabled wisdom of Solomon, but in the midst of unending difficult decisions, I hope these little tools are gifts for you. May God help us all, as we discern. Amen

1 I'm not convinced diet culture is safe nor healthy, but I left the reference in because I fear it is familiar.

2 Tara Parker-Pope “5 Rules to Live By During a Pandemic” https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/09/well/live/coronavirus-rules-pandemic-infection-prevention.html June 9, 2020.

#Thinking Church #Pandemic Preaching #Progressive Christainity #Pragmatic #FUMC Schenectady #UMC #schenectady #Sorry about the UMC #Rev. Sara E Baron #wisdom of solomon #Applied today

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anochuu · 5 years ago

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kimetsu no yaiba | reverse harem

⤧feat Sanemi, Uzui, Giyū and Kyōjurō

⤧ Fluff

⤧Slightly Rated

⤧Long oneshot

"Giyū."

The ravenette young man slowly find himself tossing the drowsiness away and have come to an awaken when that certain voice calls out for him-his eyelids fluttering open trying to adjust with the light of the afternoon sun.But a shadow seem to conceal them right around his view;coming to a clear it is someone who is looking down at him.

He blinks the sleepiness away which made the female slip a few faint chuckles from her lips,he really looked like a child waking up from his nap.

"Should you really be sleeping here outside?"

He stifle a yawn,now forcing himself to sit upright with a stretch of his arms.He looks at his surroundings momentarily where he remembered planning to take a short rest by the engawa in one of the Ubuyashiki's estate where it meant for the other demon hunters to sleep in.

"Why not?"

"Are you serious? You just got back from an injured mission,did you not? What happened to resting in Shinobu's place?" She sat herself down on the veranda as well now,she is not wearing her haori so Giyū must have guessed she left it back at her own room.

"What about you?" He ask,voice groggy and hoarse when his throat felt dry

"Me?" She blinks twice,

"You just got back from a mission too.Why are you here?"

"You noticed?" Her smile slowly broke out,widening their form that always manage to make Giyū heart flutters in a pleasing way.

"I was just on my way back home 'till i smelt your scent here."

"My scent?"

She nods, "Yeah, after all, Giyū scent is unique tee-hee."

Oh have mercy with his heart

"Is that so.." He murmur,gaze casts downwards and she who senses it lean closer,cradling his cheek with one of her hand, shifting the warmth of her palm to his cold skin.

"You look really tired,Giyū.Will you not rest properly?" She sounded very concern and he uses this chance to lean against her touch.

"Will you be here?" He knows he is acting like a pampered child right now but he can't help it.Whenever (y/n) is around he will only show that fragility side of his only to her;her who manage to thaw the ice in his heart. Her words are very delicate,assuring and soft which he found himself falling to her sweet honey voice all the damn time.

(y/n)’s lips curve a small but genuine smile, "May i come closer?"

This is what he loves about her; she will always ask for his consent though she knows very well that he will always say yes nonetheless but she still does. Giyū nodded and she scooted closer where his arms opened ready to welcoming her into his embrace that eventually often ended up with his head resting upon her lap; loving how she would ran through her fingers to comb his black locks,soothing both his mind and physique.

"I met a boy today." He conversed,

"His whole family was slaughtered by the demons." And he felt her touch stops for a second,before continuing again.

"But left for his sister."

"And i take it you saved them?"

He didn't answer as the silence hovers above the two.

"(y/n)."

"Hm?"

His navy blue gaze bore intensely into her (e/c) ones, "No matter what happened later,will you trust me?"

Her smile slowly fell,she looks like she is trying to figure out the reason behind his eyes but couldn't find any;so what is he talking about?

"Was it life-threatening to you?"

"...yes."

"Will it ease your mind if i said i will?"

He doesn't move or utter a word though his stare never left hers.Sometimes Giyū is unreadable and (y/n) is having difficult times to understand him but all so far ever since she met him, he never hurt her in fact, he adores her so that he will always remind her through words and actions that he is very caring.

"As long as Giyū believes what's right,then i will believe you too." She concluded.

My dear,what a beautiful creature and her heart so

With that said, Giyū prop himself up, levelling his gaze with hers.He waste no second as he dip in to a soft kiss to her plush ones that looks very irresistible with its natural rosey colour,inviting him to taste it. One hand went to the back of her head as he leans deeper in result for the girl to arch her back-Giyū took the advantage to let her lie down onto the floor,his mouth working against hers in a fiery but yet soft passionate lock.

(y/n) shut both her eyes closed;wrapping her small arms around his neck intend to pull him closer;his scent getting stronger into her sensitive nose.His grip around her hip is gentle and that almost tickles her.

Her lips are very sweet like bees seeking for the sweetness of nectar buried inside a flower;her smell of faint lily only tantalise his yearning for her even profound. Does the other men feel like this too whenever they got closer to her? So does that mean she is not only his alone?

He knows (y/n)’s trait is to be kind to everyone but right now he couldn't see it as anything but upsetting. Because that trait only suitable with someone as bright as her; like Rengoku does.

But will he withdraw from it? Of course not. Not when he can get to hold her like this as he wishes to. He deepens the kiss,she feels the slight tip of his tongue brushes against hers.

"(y/n)."

She is madly obsess with Giyū’s voice whenever he would whisper her name between their mingled breaths.So it is fitting to return the favour,

"Giyū.."

"Lady (y/n)!"

The girl spun around noticing the very familiar vibrant yellow-haired young man with red streaks approaching towards her,his white haori flutters behind his back accompanies with his usual bright smile that could lit almost everyone's day in an instance just by looking at it

"Kyōjurō!" Her face breaks into a wide smile,lifted the edge of her kimono to run straight to him almost stumbling along the way.She tackles the Flame Pillar to a hug which he then brought her for a single spin

"I haven't seen you for some times! Where have you been? How are you?"

"Slow down there ,goddess.I will answer one at a time." He laughs,still refusing to let the girl go.Not that she is complaining but she had longed to be in his strong embrace again,his comforting warmth and she simply cannot go a day without having Rengoku in her lives.

"I was training the kids that got recruited recently into the Corps.I'm sorry i haven't been seeing you recently,i missed you." Rengoku leans in,burying his nose into the crook of her neck with strands of his hair tickling the side of her face.

"You are a teacher now? That occupation suits you the best,have you ever heard yourself through speech?"

"Do not tease me my love." He chuckles, "And how are you? i have a break so i drop by in hoping i can see you." He caresses his lips across her cheekbone,feeling the warm breath swept onto her skin causing shivers down her spine.

"Drop b—" But then she remembered, there is no one by the estate other than her currently.She had sent all her retainers out for a day off in return for their hard work these past few days so how?

"Did you just—jumped over the walls?"

"Yep!" His face is beaming instead of feeling guilty, "I knocked but no one answered!"

"And you see it fitting to sneaked in instead?"

"Why not?" He laughs,"Do you not like it when i sneaked in to see you?" His sunset pair of vivid eyes softens at her sight making all the heat crept up from her neck and gradually gathers on both her pale cheeks colouring it beet red,

"That's so sly of you.."

There is a hint of smirk on his face, "Look at me (y/n)."

When she does, Rengoku peers into her face, "I want to kiss you."

In his eyes, it is frustrating how other men gets to see how beautiful and breathtaking her face is in this close space. The thoughts where others could ran their fingers upon her skin irks his mind that he needed to confirm something, to sate his frustration behind his gaily facade. He remembers where she lies down with Giyū beside when he found her taking a break valuing the time to spend with her when it becomes so busy. Not to mention the other two Pillars that couldn't keep his hands off her;especially Shinazugawa.

With the devil lurking behind his head,he didn't wait for her respond as Rengoku dive in for a fierce kiss.

Ah His rough and chapped lips crash on hers;stealing all her oxygen away immediately as she held onto the fabric of his haori,his strong bicep went over the back of her waist to crush her body on him to enjoy the warmth and hopefully her scent that will linger on his clothes so he can catch a whiff of her on him at times.

When his kisses became desperate and rough, her mind went blank and she lost her own control letting him swallow every of her small tiny moans,

"Breathe through your nose,(y/n)." He whispers between kisses, "Regulate them."

Even now,he sounded like a good teacher but it somehow stimulates her even more while on the other hand he can feel her breath getting unsteady and he will have no choice but to end this soon so he reminded her again to allow it lasts longer.

How adorable

He pulls away after making sure to leave a bite on her lower lip.(y/n) collapse on his broad chest,inhaling the air that escaped from her lungs.Rengoku continue to kiss the side of her head lovingly,

"I knew sneaking in always got to see you."

"Will you,(y/n)?"

"For the last time,Uzui i won't be your fourth wife."

"Why not?"

"I'm not a fan of sharing."

The male hums,watching her figure around and about in the garden and he thanked the heavens above he chose the right timing to came by. (y/n) will always changes her outfits whenever she is done with missions; so he gets to see her other side of beauties.

"Uzui..?"

"Mhm don't mind me,darling.Keep doing whatever you're doing."

"I'm asking a question,silly." She laughs,that melodious light sound that sings for his heart.

"You look wonderful in anything,exceeding my flamboyant type." He merrily said,watching from earlier where the servants of her house behind her held the colourful obis and kimonos in different patterns for her to try on.He is saying a fact though, (f/n) is downright a beautiful goddess in his eyes; her beauty exceeding every women he had ever seen in this vast world and secretly he admit,she is far more beauteous than all of his three wives.

Don't get him wrong; he insist on her marrying him is not just because of looks.She is one of the strongest female Pillars he ever encountered other than Shinobu and Mitsuri.Her special abilities is beyond expectations despite her fragile form.

She wield both Breath of (element) and (element) user,her physical combat is remarkable and she will always proudly presents it was because of her hard training under Giyū and Kyōjurō.

Then his eyebrows form a crease between them upon other male's names in his head came across.The thing is, he had just came back from a mission for exactly a week and kami-sama knows what those vermin done to her in his absence.

"Uzui!"

He was snapped out from his own daze when he looks up to see her already standing right before him,a frown etched across her face visibly clear,

"You've been spacing out rather a lot today,something in your mind?"

"Yeah,whether to sleep at your place or mine tonight?"

His blunt response cause the heat crept up from her neck to her cheeks, "What the heck are you saying!? and in this broad daylight!"

He laughs,always find her reaction amusing, "i'm serious, will you not warm my bed tonight?" He took one of her hand in his to place chaste kiss around her fingers all the while keeping his intense maroon gaze to look into her eyes.

She smiles, "No."

Then his face fell to a sulk, "No? why no?"

"as i said,i'm not a fan of sharing." She drew her hand back to her side,noticing the ghost pout on his lips that she secretly found it very rare on a man as eccentric and loud as the Sound Pillar is.

So she tip on her toes, placing a quick but intimate peck of kiss on his lips catching the man taken aback. He blinks at her triumphant smirk, "but this'll do for now.We shall see tonight."

He watches her back walking away as he still stand on his ground,baffled. The corner of his lips curve to a grin eventually,catching up to her,

"You think that was enough?" he huffs to himself,imagining the bigger possibilities in the back of his head once he get his hands on her tonight.

Some say the Wind Pillar is the demon from hell himself because all he speaks are nothing but curses, rebukes not to mention his emotional rage all the damn time. But then again, all demon slayers have their own pasts that made them who they have become today so why the judge?

Though that is still no excuse for this certain Pillar to be so rough on the rookies that they start calling him the 'lunatic pillar'

"But my Nemi is the nicest of all~!"

"GAHH! I TOLD YOU TO STOP THAT!"

(y/n) laughs out loud,doubling over whenever she got the opportunity to tease the Wind Pillar's younger brother who always turns beet red like the tomato in the Butterfly Estate's garden.

Animated steam blowing out from his both ears,unable to look at the girl in the yes because as everyone said, she is a beauty to behold and Genya who hits puberty,is now extremely shy in front of these complicated creatures.

"you are so cute!"

kami,did she even hear herself right now?

How did it come down to this? one moment he was enjoying the handmade ohagi in his engawa by himself until she decided to pay a visit out of the blue,choking the tea in his throat.

It happens in a slip of a tongue when they were talking about his older brother,he uses his secretive nickname he always had inside his imagination.But now that she heard it loud,she simply won't just stop.

"But i completely understand you," her voice regained back to its compose, "He is just very bad at expressing himself so maybe somebody just had to teach him."

"Teach me what?"

their heads shot to the right where a drawling snarl was heard.There,the mentioned white-haired male is now approaching them closer

"Ooh if it isn't my Nemi~!"

"(Y-Y/N)-SAN!"

They sensed him flinch,his glaring eyes now glowering even darkened to the point Genya just wanted to crawl into a hole underneath the house right now.

"What the actual fuck?"

She feigned a dramatic gasp, "Nemi! watch your language,please! Hello? a kid here?"

He mutters another incoherent curses underneath his breath, running his hands through his white locks, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm stopping by on my way back from Oyakata-sama's headquarter."

He rose an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Aah,are you curious?" she wiggles her eyebrows and rather to deal with her childish act right now,he simply waved her off,heading inside the house, "never mind."

"And you, rather than slacking off why don't you train your damn limbs off?"

"Y-yes!"

She frown at the exchange yet brief conversation-well,technically not one but that is the daily talks the siblings will only get. So (y/n) excused herself from Genya to follow the older Shinazugawa inside.

"What do you want again?" she heard him groan knowing full aware she is trailing behind him into the kitchen

"What was that? Genya was waiting for you to come home,you buffoon."

"What'd you call me?"

"Nothing," she huffs,"Would you like some tea,buffoon?"

She casually prepares the teapot and mugs from the shelves after numerous times visited his estate.He did said make herself at home so she is putting to a good use at that opportunity.

"If you're only here to talk my ear off,i'd better sleep." he grunted,crossed his arms as he leans onto the counter,watching the girl in his kitchen.

"A simple 'I made Ohagi' is a big step for him,you know?" she hands him the warm tea,

He only looks away silently sipping it,

She sighs, "Sanemi.."

She waited patiently,staring intently at the man before she heard distinct mutters behind the mug over his mouth,

"what?"

"i said i'll fucking try,okay." He gives in,mumbling.

This brought a smile upon her lips. With the close distance, Sanemi casually reaches for her hips before tugging her closer so he can hold her into his big and safe embrace,rests his forehead onto one of her shoulder,

"There,there why don't you take a rest while i accompany Genya for a while?" she caresses the back of his head,her fingers twirling at some strands of his white-titanium hair.

"Forget about that twat, i thought you're here to see me."

"That twat happens to be your brother." she lightly slap the back of his neck with a frown,a faint warn for him to watch how he speaks though that is a fairly fat chance.

"Yeah yeah whatever." Sanemi dismissed listlessly,nuzzling his nose deeper to her scent that he would be lying if he was to say it does not calm him. After a long and tiring afternoon unceasingly lone training,this is just what he needs.She always comes at the right timing.

(y/n)’s lips pulled to a firm,straight line when she then felt his lips brushes the skin along the valley between her neck and shoulders sending vague shivers down her spine.His other hand went over her back to pull the collar of her yukata down.

W..woah!

Without any warning, his teeth starts to nibble as she tensed in his arms.He carelessly place the mug from his hand to the counter behind him,knocking it over for the little liquid to spill.

"Wait,S-Sanemi—"

She let out a yelp when he starts to add little strength to bit on a certain spot,sucking them to make sure he leaves a mark. He pulls away just enough to admire the single hickey he just made that comes to life in its redness against her skin.

She deliver a slap again but this time,on his forearm,

"Pervert,what was that for?" she frown,

"What, the mark i gave you last time gone expired,i'm only duplicating it." he shrugs but the smug smirk on his face screams sorry not sorry.

"So the other bastards know you belong to me."

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stuckwith-harry · 5 years ago

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WOULD u rather ... forget the potter books and get to read them again OR have an 8th book come out that is guaranteed to fit right into the classics (as if it belongs there ... no worries abt being disappointed or frustrated .... not necessarily a post-dealthy hallows book, just an 8th that fits right in somehow). can't decide if this is a hard question or not but i'm hitting send give me your thoughts m'lady

… can i choose neither

i don’t really have an urge to wipe my memory and read the books for the first time again because then i’d lose memories of all the ways the past like, 11 or 12 years of my life were shaped by harry. everything from my taste in music, the way i spent my gap year, my most cherished hobby that became my dream job, all my most cherished relationships, all the best and the worst but specifically the best things in my life relate back to harry somehow. and it sounds dumb and cheesy but harry the character specifically has been such a guardian angel to me. core four have been guarding angels. reciting the motto of gryffindor house back to myself has pulled me through so often. one time i was steeling myself to go talk to a friend i’d been fighting with and when i swiped on my shuffled spotify neville’s theme came up. it’s just too important to get rid of and start over. i wouldn’t want to miss it. (the love club groupchat would not exist!!! i wouldn’t know you guys exist!!!)

but i’m also weirdly protective of it and even before we like, collectively divorced jkr, i HATED the idea of an 8th book. like the first few years after the series finished the rumour that we’d be getting an 8th novel would pop up again and every single time i actually got upset about it lol. i didn’t want the ending touched: it told me exactly what i wanted to know, that harry lived and had a family and built a happy life for himself, AND we got a fanfiction playground spanning almost two decades between the battle of hogwarts and the epilogue that we could fill to our heart’s desire. if you forced my hand i’d rather go for the 8th book i guess but i’m really really not fussed. at this point it’s so personal and special to me that i just want it to myself and everyone, specifically jkr, minus maybe 3 friends whose opinions i trust to just leave hp alone forever lol

#leave him alone !!!! he is my son !!!!#thank u for asking luv #emi tag #smallfern #harry potter #owl post

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soapybitch · 4 years ago

Text

How To Write a Sex Scene

Resonant

Summary:

Four tips for creating better sex scenes in erotic romance.

Notes:

I posted these tips in my LiveJournal in 2005. I'm not going to rewrite at all (aside from updating links where I can), so don't be surprised if sometimes I'm explaining things that don't need explaining after all this time. Like, uh, definining 'slash' in the first paragraph. It's historical or something.

Work Text:

I first published this series of essays on my LiveJournal in fall 2005. These suggestions were published in a slash community (what is slash? click here), so they reference, and in some cases quote, fanfiction involving romantic relationships between same-sex characters. The tips aren't genre-specific, though; I'd like to think that anyone who wants to write an erotic scene can learn something here.

Caveats:

1. Obviously, Rule 1 is to get great betas, train them to be very very picky, and train yourself to listen to them and not take it personally.

2. I'm not, strictly speaking, telling how to write a sex scene; I'm telling how to write a scene whose purpose is to be arousing. There are sex scenes that exist for other reasons -- to be comforting, for instance, or to demonstrate a lack of connection between two characters, or any number of other things. In pro-fic it's fairly common to read a sex scene that generates the same reader response as would a description of a stabbing -- it's not there to turn you on; it's there to give you a thrill of revulsion and fear.

But I'm talking about smut here. If you're writing another kind of scene, you may still find useful points here, but you'll have to take me with a very large grain of salt.

1. Make me yearn.

The lack of something to long for is absolutely the single most common problem I see in otherwise well-written sex scenes. And if I don't have anything to long for, then the scene is trivial, skimmable. It needn't even be there.

Beginning writers often preface a sex scene with a long conversation, in which the characters share all their hopes and fears, and reassure one another, and make declarations, and then go to bed.

This is a problem! Because if you do that, then that conversation is the climax of the story. Which means the sex is just an unimportant part of the resolution.

Much better to take them into sex with a few things still uncertain. Don't put their fears to rest before the sex; don't put their fears on hold until after the sex; put their fears to rest by means of the sex. That way it means something.

This can be tricky in long stories with multiple scenes, because there has to be something to yearn for in all of them, and it has to be different every time. It's pretty common to read a story where the first-time scene is fine, but all the subsequent sex scenes are either pointless or boring. Or else they fade to black after a few sentences -- this is an author who has an intuition that there's a problem.

Even in an established-relationship scene, though, or the fifth sex scene of a story, it is possible to have something left to yearn for. You just need some barrier to intimacy that remains to be crossed.

I don't mean "X has never bottomed." I mean "X is still trying to protect himself from getting his heart broken." Declarations and particular sex acts are only going to have meaning and significance if they're signals of emotional progress.

(Or lack thereof, of course; if I read your sex scene and yearn for a particular level of connection, and despair along with the characters when they fail to make it, that's a successful sex scene, though a depressing one. You just have to make me want something. There's no rule requiring you to give it to me.)

If you're going to write a long story with lots of sex, go back to your first time and make sure you leave emotional issues still to be resolved. Does he love him? Does he know it? Does he accept it? Is he confident that he's loved in return? Is he prepared to sacrifice something for that love, take some risks for it, do things he finds emotionally uncomfortable for it? Can he accept sex as an expression of love rather than an exploitation or a meaniingless exchange of pleasure?

Leave some "No" answers to be addressed in later scenes.

2. Pick one zing and stick to it.

When I read a first-time scene, there's a certain set of pleasures that I want from it. Disbelief, anticipation, the joy and fear of a relationship finally taking this big scary step into greater intimacy. I call that set of particular pleasures the first-time zing.

A bondage scene, too, has its own zing -- power/powerlessness, trust or fear, the increased sensitivity that comes with enforced passiveness.

Other kinds of scenes have their own zings. Maybe your scene is all about distance and longing, or about pure meaty muscular maleness, or about secrets. Maybe it's about this, this is the one, this person in particular, or maybe it's all about self-discovery and self-acceptance.

But you have to have one zing, because if you try to have two, then neither of them is going to be very effective.

Now, I'm not saying you can't have, say, bondage in your first-time scene or chocolate in your peanut butter, because obviously you can; I'm just saying that all the other elements have to serve the zing, not compete with it.

If you have both elements, and you decide the zing will be first-time, it will look something like this: "Oh, my god, I can't believe it, after all this time of watching and wanting I finally get to pin you down and take you ..." If you decide the zing is bondage, it will be more like this: "Since the moment I met you I've been dreaming of how you'd look like this, with the blindfold stark against your face and your skin reddening around the ropes ..."

Naturally I like some zings better than others, so if you want to grab me in particular, you'll stay away from power-dominance zings and incest zings and "X feels unattractive and can't believe gorgeous Y could possibly want him," and instead focus on sexual discovery, characters telling dangerous and complicated emotional truths, straitlaced characters suddenly letting loose and showing unexpected depths of wildness, love as the scariest risk ...

But, hey, it's your story. If your zing doesn't do anything for me, still odds are it will do something for someone. All I'm saying is, don't try to pack everything into a single scene. Find this scene's zing, and hone your focus on it.

By choosing one zing, you have to sacrifice a bit of the others. It's OK. There will be other sex scenes.

3. Make the sex fit the characters

(and not the other way around)

Some writers can stay in character for any scene but a sex scene. It's one of the most frustrating things in the world to be reading along, having a good time, following our guys as they do their thing and are entirely themselves, until suddenly they disappear and are replaced by two porn stars who superficially resemble them.

I'm guessing that some writers really just want that particular set of sexual behaviors more than they want to stay in character, and there's probably nothing I can say to them, because that actually is satisfying to them.

But I'm also guessing that there are other writers who want a certain erotic effect and don't know how to get it without going out of character.

Here's how to start: Don't think about what happens in the scene. Think about what payoff you want from it.

Now, there are two ways to do this. You can think about what one character feels, or you can think about what the other character does. For instance, maybe you say, "X goes all crazy and animalistic," or maybe you say, "Y feels like he's been pushed way beyond self-consciousness and can just let go." Or maybe you say, "X uses his mad sex skillz," or maybe you say, "Y feels utterly coddled and pampered and treated like a king."

Right. Get that spelled out in your brain. And then go, "OK, fine, then. How might, say, Rodney McKay go all crazy and animalistic?"

Now, there are obviously lots of right answers for that. Maybe he talks just as much as he talks the rest of the time, but it gets less coherent, or dirtier. Or maybe he stuns his lover by going entirely silent.

But what, you ask, is the difference between a silent Rodney McKay and a porn star who looks like Rodney McKay but can't be him because he's not talking? The difference is that if you've started out thinking, "How is Rodney in particular going to do this?" then even if your answer is, "Surprisingly, he's going to do it without words," you're going to take note of how unusual it is. John is going to take note of how unusual it is, and is going to find it strange, or frightening, or funny, or so hot he can't stand it.

And he's going to say, "Jesus, Rodney -- say something so I -- know it's you," and Rodney's going to put his mouth right against John's ear and say very quietly, "You know it's me," and I for one would have no complaints at all about a scene like that.

If you think of it that way, and it doesn't work for you, then try approaching it from the other side: How is John -- John in particular -- going to act if he's totally blown beyond self-consciousness and shame?

Again, lots of possible right answers. Maybe he doesn't change. Maybe he gets really clingy and needy. Maybe he starts babbling. I could be convinced of any of those, as long as the writer never forgot that this was John and nobody else.

You can have most hot things with most pairings, but some of them are going to take more work than others, and I suspect that some of them may be impossible. If your thing is seductive stripping, you may be out of luck if your pairing is Snape/Lupin or Rodney/Radek. If you're writing a teen Ray/Stella or Harry/Ron and your thing is smooth, confident dirty talk, you've got an uphill battle. (Though to see any of these done well would be fascinating.)

By the way, this problem also sometimes comes up in scenes where the payoff is not erotic but romantic. Suddenly my two canon characters go away and I'm left with two guys who are quoting John Donne to each other. And here again, unless you want the Donne more than you want to stay in character, the solution is to define the exact payoff you want (say, "A guy making a heartfelt emotional declaration") and then ask yourself, "OK, how does Rodney in particular make a heartfelt emotional declaration?"

Because he probably doesn't quote poetry, I can tell you that, at least not in a way that isn't utterly embarrassing for him and everyone else. He's probably not smooth and suave, not if it really means something to him. He will, in fact, probably babble something highly parenthetical and only partly comprehensible, and then go away, and it will only be hours later that John will suddenly go, "Oh, my god, I thought he was complaining about being on jumper pilot rotation but actually I think he just told me he's in love with me."

4. Choose your details carefully.

When I was in college, a student group showed a bunch of Swedish porn films from the seventies. (In fact, that was all the porn I'd ever seen until somebody on my flist uploaded her Patrick collection.) One of the movies began with a shot of a nipple that filled the entire movie screen. Not the aureole, mind you -- just the nipple. The pores were bigger than my head. It took me several minutes to figure out what it was.

I always think of that nipple when I'm tempted to put too much detail in my sex scenes.

Actually, of course, the problem isn't too many details. The problem is ill-chosen details. Brighid can write a sex scene four lines long that I'll be unpacking in my head for days; Paian can knock my eyes out of focus with a sex scene so in-depth that a single orgasm requires more than one paragraph.

All other things being equal, I personally prefer more detail, but only if it's the right detail.

Use too many details that have no significance, and one of two things will happen: I'll start skimming, or I'll start laughing because the whole thing sounds like Wild Kingdom: "The male retracts his nictating membrane; the female responds by opening her dilator ..." *

The right detail is one that does one of these things:

1. It supports the yearning you're trying to create in me.

For example, say you've got a hand. It sweeps down over a guy's chest, gets to his navel, hesitates for a moment, goes down until it brushes the boundary of his pubic hair, hesitates again, brushes very softly up his cock ...

Now, if you're writing a scene in an established relationship where I'm waiting for some verbal declaration, this is kind of irrelevant. Make it go on too long, and I'll start skimming.

But if you've set things up so that the owner of that hand is kind of freaked out about being in bed with a guy, and so far has allowed things to be done to him but hasn't done very much in return, and I'm wanting, hoping, longing to see him get over his inhibitions -- well, then, I'm going to want to see every centimeter those fingers cross.

2. It supports your zing.

For example, we all know about the inexplicable sensitivity of necks, collarbones, and ears. The kiss behind the ear, the resulting shiver -- in most sex scenes, these only get a passing mention.

But if your zing is sexual discovery -- if, say, you're writing Harry Potter's first make-out session -- then that detail becomes really sexy, because he doesn't already know about it.

3. It tells us something about the character and the relationship.

Benton Fraser's got a gunshot scar on his lower back. What Ray Kowalski does and feels when his fingers brush across that scar for the first time is likely to be significant. What Ray Vecchio does and feels in the same circumstances is likely to be even more significant.

4. We need to know about it to understand what happens next.

Usually, if you're not laying out every detail, you can still count on me to assume nudity, horizontalness, lubrication, without you necessarily telling me about them. On the other hand, if somebody's going to get smacked for putting his hand in the wrong place, I probably need to see the hand go down.

5. It really turns you on.

Hey, we're not writing essays on historical criticism here, we're writing porn. If it does something to you, there's a good chance it will do something to me, too.

If your detail doesn't do any of those things, it may still be fine, but if you're in doubt, try deleting it. You can use transitions to get over boring parts in a sex scene just as you would in any other scene. My favorite example is from Helenish's Sentinel story Seemingly Impermeable:

"Good," Blair said, tumbling off him, "good. Jim, my room, I can't carry you." and the next thing that was worth focusing on, after a blur of yanked off pants and Blair's frantic fumbling in his closet, was Blair, wetly kissing his left shoulderblade, rubbing a wet finger into his hole and whispering,

"Don't worry, I'm sure two fingers is enough, you have very big fingers."

* eyefuck!

#fav #pin #writing

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