#reminder to myself to also fix up the other ones. maybe. and also to reread the books <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnamon-bunni · 4 months

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hm... 4, 7, 11, 12, 17, 21, 22, 24! happy new year, bunni!

4. Total number of words you wrote this year That's hard to find tbh....I didn't end up posting a lot of fics, so i dont only have to just check my statistics on ao3, but all of my possible fics ive written this year in my wip docs as well. the total i got was 58,171 words (~35k of it being WIPs and not posted)! so definitely not as much as i wrote last year which was (i think over 100k), and also not including all of my notes ive written. i did not do a lot of writing this year, so hopefully next year i'll wrap up all of my big fics and post them all <3

7. longest completed fic you wrote this year Again, i did not write a lot this year, much less finish them lmao. if you were to ask about uncompleted fics, we would have a different story--but alas, the longest completed one was Once More, With Needles, sitting at 4,414 words!

11. fandom you enjoyed writing for the most this year hm....obey me, I suppose. its hard to say really, but enjoyment from writing specifically, i'd have to give it to obey me. what can i say, the cast is just really fun to write (even when levi is impossible to write, like what the hell man i have rewritten your part in my undead fic like 3 separate times and am continuing fixing it, like what the hell man i trusted you and then you dont behave for me). like this year specifically i realized how much i love each and every character--those like lucifer reminded me as to why i love the game and the characters, and people like mephisto and raphael randomly won a spot in my heart. theyre all just so so fun to write <333

12. favorite character to write about this year lucifer!!! even though i only have like, one fic that features him thats out and finished lmao; hes such an interesting and complex character, yet is one whose mind i can easily slip into when i need to write when its his pov. idk, sometimes i find myself struggling to write characters like levi or even asmo sometimes--mainly from my own failures to pay attention to their canon interpretations and making them not out-of-character--but lucifer is surprisingly one i can always rely on to be easy and fun to write!! he is angst galore and so emotionally constipated, hes great <3

17. fics you’ll continue next year Heart Melts for sure!! i originally wanted ch3 to be out before the new year, but ive been drafting and redrafting all of my future chapters (i am trying my best to make it a psychological horror in order to match the tag that i put on the fic, but idk if its going to live up to the hype that people have for this fic ^^;;) so i sadly didnt get time to finish it. maybe by the end of January ill have it out--heres to hoping its done by then! and maybe i might continue Dirty? I didn't even update it this year lol--its def one i dont wanna leave discontinued, as i have all of the chapters planned out, but i just have many other projects that i wanna focus on and also i really wanna rewrite it, so ive been debating doing that first or just to finish then rewrite it. in a perfect world, i'll update that one too lol

21. most memorable comment/review I have two that come to mind!!! in all honesty all comments make me sooo happy, but these ones specifically is just,,,idk man, they just hit a certain way that itches that scratch in my brain that needs validation lmao i love rereading these all the time <3 theres these comments for Messy Makeup:

(make me go insane from them saying i wrote multiple fics that were their favorites <33) and of course there's this banger of a comment from @/snugglebunnies!!! idk if youre reading this but thank you thank you thank you for inspiring me so much with your fics!!! i love them so much, and this comment was just incredible! from the fic Heart Melts:

(love when people leave quotes, no matter how long or short!!!! such deep analysis is what i live for!!!!) and of course, sending out so much love to everyone who leaves a comment on any of my fics, no matter how big or small they are <333

22. events you participated in this year i didnt participate in any events this year! i tend not to do events tbh, theyre not really my style, as i dont do well with due dates unless i have months in advance lol;; usually i might do one, maybe two, events a year, but those are usually simple gift exchanges or something. nothing caught my eye this year, and ones that did i just didnt have the time to do, sadly. but! i do plan on doing the sonic big bang next year, which will be my first ever "bigger" event ive been in! exciting, but also really nervewracking as ive never posted sonic content and idk how well i'll do staying on schedule. but its still something i really wanna do (have a great fic planned for it!) so i still wanna give it a shot and do my best on it lol

24. favorite fic you read this year from this year is really hard to say--i think all of my favorite fics were found last year lmao so its a struggle to think of one. @heleentje's BOTW fic Moonlight has been a fantastic read (even though i havent finished it yet;;; i promise will soon!!) and just hits all of the right notes for me!! The batman fic Performance Piece is also definitely up there for me, as it captures so well what i want in my own writing when it comes to writing characters, especially when it comes to inner-dialogue (i might just go back and reread that one again lmao)

as of posting, i have about twenty minutes left before the new year. so happy early 2024!! 🥳🎉💝

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iviarellereads · 5 months

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The Plan, Such As It Is

tl;dr: System Collapse finishes the Murderbot series on Christmas. Last week of the year is a break, and then it's the Wheel of Time with likely between-book breaks for one-offs or shorter series, and someday maybe Alecto the Ninth.

I had a great time watching Desert Bus, and helping with the VST documenting and editing and uploading clips of the process of raising over a million dollars (over ten million in the lifetime of the event!) for a good cause. A most excellent week of "restoring my faith in humanity". But that's a little beside the point of this post.

I also got my hands on System Collapse, but because of how my brain works, I won't be reading it ahead, so we're going to have lots of fun as I read it for the first time in the format of the blog. Let's see if my style changes, if my predictions are well on or off the mark. (I have seen a few posts that spoiled a few moments and character bits, but I'm not concerned about those. I rarely feel like learning things that happen "ruins" anything about an experience anyway. If the story's well told, it's still fun to experience for myself.)

After System Collapse, well, that's the end of Murderbot to-date. And, I haven't run any polls for covering other things. That's because I'm pretty well set on rereading the Wheel of Time series, and revising my previous notes to this format.

It's something I could keep putting off, but the show has gotten so good, and it reminds me of all the things about the books that I loved so much (and how the show is fixing some things I didn't love). I'll also be very excited to do full-series spoiler posts again, Murderbot didn't have a lot that I felt needed commenting on, but the Wheel? Oh, buddy.

But, the caveat here is that the Wheel of Time has, well, fifteen very large books. Eleven thousand pages, over four million words. Coverage would take about three years if I didn't take breaks for other books in between, and I definitely will, so we're gonna be here for a while. I've said before that I was hesitant to cover Discworld for this, and I still am. Discworld has over forty books just in the main series besides the spinoffs, with a comparable total wordcount to WoT. Several of those, I have negative interest in ever rereading. Even if they're largely shorter than WoT bricks, they're also trickier to split, and I won't have as much context to share about them that isn't available elsewhere already. Whereas, the Wheel of Time lacks a lot of spoiler-free resources in print, despite the series being almost 35 years old. There was a huge influx of podcast coverage once the show publicity ramped up, but not so much blog style content. The few prologues and chapters that do need splitting, I've already calculated out from the first time I took the notes.

Mind you, I will be finding time for Alecto the Ninth coverage when Tamsyn Muir finally graces us with her presence, I'll just take a break between whichever WoT books I'm up to by then. And if something else strikes my fancy, I might alternate books. Like, making it through the Eye of the World might scratch the itch well enough, and make me want to dig into the Princess Bride as I threatened to once before, or perhaps when I reach my least favourite sequence of books in the middle, I'll alternate them with the His Dark Materials trilogy, though probably not its supplementary later materials because I'm still refusing to read the Book of Dust.

I totally understand if folks who followed me for other stuff want to jump ship when my WoT coverage starts. I love and can recommend it with some massive content notes and caveats which will be in my intro post for it, but it's not for everyone and treating it like a universal joy is nonsense. But, especially if you can get a library borrow of the first book, whether you get it in print or ebook or either of the incredible audiobook narrations (the full series by Michael Kramer and Kate Reading, or the first three are now available narrated by Rosamund Pike, who plays the character of Moiraine Sedai on the show), I hope you'll give it a try with me, and my analysis and commentary might help pull you into a series that's otherwise quite intimidating.

So, System Collapse will finish posting on Christmas, I think I'll take the last week of the year as a breather, and the Wheel of Time will kick off my 2024. I hope you'll consider sticking around and reading with me, especially my Locked Tomb girlies because I've said it before and I'll say it again, these two stories have SO much in common, hashtag Women's Wrongs and unreliable narrators. And, I am gonna try to break it up every so often since these are LONG books, most of them have 40+ chapters so will be two months apiece. But either way, if I'm gonna follow my heart, it's gotta be next.

#blog housekeeping

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ms-hells-bells · 1 year

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okay so i just turned seventeen, but last year in may i was sixteen and back then i logged into this spam account i used to have that i abandoned, and i had a bunch of old msg's from my friends but i only answered one, it was from my old male best friend who i used to sorta date but the point is he asked me how i was doing, if i moved bc i hadnt been active on anything or answering anyones messages for over a year, i just said 'good' and kept my answers brief but then he said 'is there anything new with you?' and this is the part where i messed up bad, i couldnt take the pain anymore and i asked him to keep this between us, he said yes, and i told him 1. i got raped 2. there was a vid sent to me 3. i am 2m pregnant because i felt sick about telling my family, he was the first person i told just to try to make myself feel better and he said "Thank you for telling me" and left it at that

this is seriously fucking haunting me, sorry if im dramatic but looking back i think he definitely told his friends, he was uncomfortable, or didnt care and whenever i sleep at night i get reminded of it and i just feel so awful inside, i dont know how to make myself feel better and i couldnt take the embarrassment of messaging him on that exact account so i used another one of my spams and told him happy birthday a few months ago, he said thank you hes thinking of me blahblah but (not that its a big deal) he didnt even tell me happy birthday and i feel like he doesnt care about me or the times we had, i thought maybe he didnt know what to say (bc wtf is thank you for telling me???? or let know know if that was a normal reply and these paragraphs are not a big deal) but then i had to remind myself that okay, he's twenty and he was probably uncomfortable especially because we hadnt talked in 1year+. of course i apologized bc it was kinda trauma dumping on him but im so embarrassed how do i overcome it, should i delete the messages??? i think that could help but im also too embarassed to reread them i feel like i should kms the humiliation is unreal

i thought time would fix it but its been 9 months. time did not help me. if you dont have a solution ty anyways and im probably going to delete the msgs once i can bring myself to log in

first of all, i'm so sorry that that happened to you, that's awful.

i think you really need therapy, you've gone through a terrible thing, and you feel extremely alone and terrified of being judged. he responded the only way he could to hearing something like that, i think 'thank you for telling me' means 'thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this' as it can be so hard to tell that to someone. a lot of people also don't like saying 'sorry' because it comes off as disingenuous, so i think 'thank you for telling me' is the best response he could have given in that situation, especially as an older male talking to you (16 vs 20).

i think that, though it'll be hard, you need to stop thinking about it. you confided in someone you had trust with, he responded in a supportive way, and you haven't brought it up afterwards, meaning there's very little chance that he felt 'trauma dumped' on or extremely uncomfortable (of course, it'd be uncomfortable to hear that, but that's a natural reaction out of empathy). you told him, that's it, it's best to move on. it's so hard to with anxiety, where you overthink everything that you do and say, and others' reactions, but i found that the best thing to do is just take things like this at face value. he provided the appropriate support an acquaintance would, you got it off your chest to someone, and you both proceed with the best path forward; he continues chatting with you casually when it comes up, given you're living different and physically separated lives, and you continue the process of healing from your trauma.

tldr: you did nothing wrong, you were vulnerable and needed someone to talk to. he responded a bit awkwardly, but in good faith, and is continuing to talk to you in the appropriate amount for a somewhat out of contact old friend. nothing to regret, it's just a matter of finding a proper outlet for you via therapy and support from people who are physically present and closer (personally) to you in order to healthily cope with your trauma.

i hope any of this helps.

#rape tw

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softlyspector · 6 months

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Hi Becca rant anon here I am so sad I started writing in-depth comments about Born lucky, under a bad star and then i accidentally closed the tab and deleted everything!!! Take 2 below

The intro that describes all the other times Joel was hurt is so haunting in and of itself but "A part of you wonders if maybe it’s your fault. Maybe you forgot to stick lavender in his pocket before he left that morning, like you always do." GOT ME WRECKED. Know that from now on I will CONSTANTLY be thinking about this lavender ritual and imagining what could be going through Joel's mind during it.

"You feel the ghost of Ellie’s hand against your arm. Odd, you think distantly, because she hates you. She has for a long time." Hurt me so bad i had to construct a nursery rhyme in its honour: I've was just stabby stabbed through my hearty heart, the lovely miss Becca has just torn me apart.

Tommy's franticness, Ellie's quiet shock? Say it with me now children *imagine a chorus of voices for this bit* Becca is the queen of characterisation!! The fact that Joel is the person they would send after the attackers if anyone else had been hurt? "Survive and provide and protect" encapturing Joel's ethos so perfectly? Just further evidence of this point. "They describe him as fierce and short to anger, because no one can say a word about him or his. They describe him as wonderfully dependable, ask Joel for something on a supply run and you would have it in short order; sigh about the state of something in your home and it would be taken care of, fixed, the very next day" WHEN I TELL YOU THAT NOBODY HAS MADE ME CARE MORE FOR THE PIXEL TEXAN THAN YOU HAVE. Lord help me reading that made me UNWELL your Joel is so CORRECT. Ellie sleeping on there couch but struggling to speak to them and Maria having to come get Tommy STOP i repeat i am UNWELL.

Joel kept collecting comics for Ellie. No that's fine I'm fine it's all fine nothing to see here folks it's all well and good. Now excuse while I scream into the void for a second. Ellie saying she's mad at you too and then agreeing to sleeping next to Joel without a fuss? I feel like my chest is constricting from all sides. Also the whole conversation when Tommy comes downstairs was soooo beautifully written but Joel saying "you're the love of damn life"... i had to pause at that and I already know in my bones every single time i reread this fic i will make that same pause. Every. Single. Time. God your writing is such a gift.

I need to once again call you the queen of characterisation bc when Joel moved carefully so you wouldn't worry rather than bc he wanted to spare himself more pain???! Yeah. Joel feeling most helpless bc he can no longer play the guitar?? Yeah. Ellie saying she wasn't just there bc he was hurt, which was what Joel had been fearing?? YEAH. Honestly every conversation that you've written in this fic has like 17 layers of emotion and each character feels fleshed out and real and accurate. I know I'm truly not en expert on the source material but from what I know you've got each person down beautifully.

"It’s one thing for him to be cold and uncomfortable, but another thing entirely for you to feel that way" lucky for me I was already laying down when I read this. But when I read this it made me want to get up just to dramatically fling myself back down. Maybe I'm obsessed with the way you write Joel's perspective. Maybe this makes me want to listen to your Joel playlist and lose my mind a bit. Maybe I need carbs to deal with this fic the way it's making me burn hella calories keeping up with the emotional parkour of it all. "His whole body is nothing but reminders. He is a patchwork quilt of scars" hey Becca did you know that these sentences would tattoo themselves on my brain? Did you????

Joel thinking you stayed around bc he could do stuff for you... as someone who struggles with feeling like I have no worth unless I'm serving other people... maybe that made me tear up. Maybe it's making me want to hug the Pixel Texan. Just you know, a hypothetical possibility. Also, him thinking that he has to be able to point to something he did for people to justify sticking around? Makes me feel about the letter left for him where either Bill or Frank (I'm so sorry i always mess up which one is which) said that men like him and Joel were put on this earth to protect others... while i do think Joel finds that kinda galvinising it's so clearly a douvle-edged sword and the way you've explored that is beyond perfection. Joel thinking his love and his guolt are growing simultaneously??!! Cool cool cool cool cool i will proceed to be normal about this. Definitely.

The fight they have? Where both of them clearly feel like they've failed?? The crushing weight of words left unsaid??? You write the internal turmoil of it all so, so phenomenally. And "You can’t take care of us if you aren’t okay, Joel.” catching my breath after realising this is probably one of the few times in his life where someone has said that to Joel explicitly? Don't think a lot of people had the time/ability/willingness to try to convince Joel of this. Especially given the backstory in this fic (is that all you btw? If it was in the game you incorporated it masterfully, and if it's all you even more credit to you). Absolutely EVERYTHING about him trying the prosthetic for the first time was divine. Just absolute gorgeousness. Also I just want to say, for anyone who might read this and need this information in real life: in college i took a class that looked a lot at health metrics. And one finding that really stayed with me was that when people experience a disability for the first time, they report a big drop in quality of life initially. But given time, the recovery is actually pretty remarkable. People have an incredible ability to learn, to relearn, and to create new habits, routines and skills. So the way you wrote Joel slowly but surely regaining the things that constituted his life, his quality of life, is actually very realistic and wonderful to see in a fic.

I did not know I could feel so deeply about two people conversing on a bathroom floor but leave it to you to write such a heartfelt exchange. GOD they're so in love it makes me HAPPY but also kinda violently ILL in a good way. Also I feel a little guilty about how much I enjoy Joel and Maria not getting along but oh well. We all have our guolty pleasures. And Joel being endeared by Dina and Ellie? HELL YEAH. Teaming up with Tommy to give Joel a hard time seems like so much fun too.

AND THE ENDING??? Joel finally getting to take care of her again? Getting to hear all the ways she felt useless? The mutual reassurance and hope for the future? I am in love with them i am in awe of them everything about this was superb.

This might be one of the longest rants I've ever sent you and it still doesn't feel like enough to accurately convey how much I loved this story. Thank you so much for sharing.

I am once again here to apologize for taking so long to respond to one of your lovely rants. I'm sorry you accidentally deleted everything and had to rewrite it but I'm so glad you did 💕

I'm glad you liked their little lavender ritual! I may write a little connected drabble about how it all got started, because it definitely was perplexing to him at first.

I've was just stabby stabbed through my hearty heart, the lovely miss Becca has just torn me apart.

I absolutely screamed when I read this. I'm sorry for breaking your heart though I love your little poem

Say it with me now children *imagine a chorus of voices for this bit* Becca is the queen of characterisation!!

Stop, stop, stop, stop!!! I love you <3 I'm always so thrilled when someone thinks I've gotten the characterization right <333 like it makes my heart so full and happy.

Joel kept collecting comics for Ellie. No that's fine I'm fine it's all fine nothing to see here folks it's all well and good.

Of course he did!! She was always so important to him, of course he kept picking things up for her and trying to connect with her in small ways, like leaving the comics outside her door. He's still her dad, y'know.

"It’s one thing for him to be cold and uncomfortable, but another thing entirely for you to feel that way" lucky for me I was already laying down when I read this.

Joel "Acts of Service" Miller would absolutely be concerned about his person over any discomfort he could ever experience.

Especially given the backstory in this fic (is that all you btw? If it was in the game you incorporated it masterfully, and if it's all you even more credit to you).

This is totally made up! At least as far as I know. We really don't know much about Joel's background or his family beyond Sarah and Tommy, at least not canonically. I'm glad it felt like an organic addition to the story for you <3

And one finding that really stayed with me was that when people experience a disability for the first time, they report a big drop in quality of life initially. But given time, the recovery is actually pretty remarkable. People have an incredible ability to learn, to relearn, and to create new habits, routines and skills.

I didn't know this actually! That's super interesting. What happened in the fic was sort of just what felt like a natural progression of acceptance and healing would look like for Joel. He's nothing if not resilient though, and no matter what, he has his girls and his family. And that's really the most important thing that would make him want to get used to it.

Teaming up with Tommy to give Joel a hard time seems like so much fun too.

This was so self indulgent of me, really. Tommy is so bestie shaped to me. I would love to be a menace with that man, especially at Joel's expense.

I love love love your rants, rant anon, thank you for always sending them. They're such a delight to read <3

#bec talks #rant anon #born lucky replies

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three-moving · 2 years

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i was cleaning out my inbox and found an old ao3 comment notification from like may and i decided that if i'm ever going to reply to it, i might as well do it today.

and so i went through my ao3 inbox and found. a lot. comments on my fics that i'd already replied to but had forgotten about, a couple new ones, some replies to comments i'd left... even the ones i'd already seen made me smile.

and it just reminded me. this is why i do this. this is why i struggled through a broken keyboard, why i dealt with on and off writer's block, why i stockpiled more and more notebooks of half finished stories. i've missed talking to people about it. finding the people who liked my fics and leaving comments myself on other stories i enjoyed. i haven't written in months because it's been painfully difficult to get things on paper but holy shit i've missed it so much more than i realized.

like. okay. there's this one ficlet i wrote probably a year or two ago for a fandom that doesn't exist about one of those endless runner mobile games. i did it as practice, thinking it'd just sit in my docs forever, and posted it because i was happy with the end result. and someone commented on it a while ago because they remembered the game too, because they'd enjoyed it too, because they still have thoughts about a game that requires little to no thinking too. and responding to their comment made me think that damn, i do still like that game, i should play it again sometime, and also damn, i wanted to write a follow up, maybe i should do that too.

i reread part of the ficlet to make sure i knew what they were referring to in the comment and realized hey, my old writing wasn't half bad. at least not that piece in particular. and i liked writing it, i liked reading it, it made me smile back when i wrote it and it still made me smile today. i'm glad that someone enjoyed it enough to comment because it reminded me of why i do this in the first place. just to smile.

anyways. tl;dr i replied to a comment and it made me remember that things are good actually, i like talking to people, and i want to get back into writing. but maybe i'll wait until this stupid keyboard gets fixed.

#long post #sorry for the ramble im experiencing an emotion #this is probably half incoherent but i am not rereading #three o clock speaks

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xiaq · 3 years

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Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)

Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.

I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???

(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)

CW for sex talk (again)

How does one get over purity culture?

Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.

Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.

According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl's body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.

Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.

You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.

The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won't worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.

Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.

Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don't push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don't like doing any sex things, don't do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)

Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.

*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed." Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).

#purity culture #sex talk #christianity #sex and relationships #sex and religion #mylife #answered asks #aspec #cw sex

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charcubed · 3 years

Text

Let's talk about Supernatural 15x07, "Last Call."

Or as I like to call it, "the episode that makes me go feral because it tells us so much about Dean's sexuality, character, and arc."

YES others have written meta! YES I will talk about it myself for the satisfaction! I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

This post was originally a thread on Twitter and I am crossposting it to my blog.

Alt image IDs are included in that linked Twitter thread!

Join me on this journey.

What's the context of this episode? Dean's been kind of down/depressed, feeling hopeless in the face of the idea that they have to defeat God (and not really working towards that goal much), and he's mid-divorce with Cas. He goes out on this solo case to try to clear his head.

And he ends up at Swayze's Bar.

Look, there are many things to be said about this. Dean loves Patrick Swayze. Arguably has a CRUSH on Swayze. It's very tied up in Dean pretending not to like "chick flicks" but he secretly does, which is queer coding. This was a Choice™️.

Speaking of Choices™️: professional actors made many here. Deliberately.

Dean is smacked on the ass by a woman and then Lee smacks him on the ass too. Dean and Lee CONSTANTLY have physical familiarity and fond eye contact. I will limit myself to 1 paragraph about this lest I list it all.

My point is that I just really need every person to digest and accept the fact that this is textually bi Dean. Not subtext; it's TEXT.

Dean and Lee had a relationship. Their history is alluded to in touch and in words. They had an orgy together. Dean's bisexuality is not repressed.

It's also now canon that Dean tries to hide that he can sing well. Most people don't know (like Sam) but some do (Lee). Hence "Eye of the Tiger" callback.

And so: that's also the implication for his sexuality. Dean singing ON STAGE with bi lighting is him being ready to be Out.

They dedicated an entire half an ep at minimum to emphasizing he's bi... and to Dean having a conversation with someone he (initially) trusts about potentially having a break from hunting, and what that could mean.

LEE: You're chasing missing persons, huh? I thought you'd be on to something bigger by now, like the Loch Ness Monster... Bigfoot.

DEAN: Trust me, uh, bigger doesn't always equal better. Besides, who's gonna look out after the little guy? God certainly isn't.

LEE: Damn, brother, that's dark.

DEAN: Yeah, it's been a rough, uh... it's been a rough decade, Lee.

LEE: Yeah.

DEAN: But that's a conversation for a different time, 'cause this, this right here, this is all right.

LEE: Well, I'm glad you approve. This is nothing you can't have, man.

DEAN: Oh, come on. Who's gonna kill the bad guys?

LEE: Somebody else. Dean, how many lives you think you saved, huh? Hundreds? Thousands? You deserve a break, bro. Hell, you might even deserve two.

"But Lee turns out to be a villain!" some might say. "Isn't the point that giving up hunting is bad?"

Nope.

Lee's a DARK MIRROR for Dean. He exists to exhibit the truths behind Dean's desires, and then what they'd look like if they turned bad. Take it from him: "I am you."

There are LAYERS here. You can't focus on the dark side and ignore the truths that take place in the (often bi) light.

The singing? The conversations about taking a break? Throwing men out of the bar, which is framed heroically? "Road House rules" (another Choice™️)?

NONE of that was bad. It shows what Dean wants.

Things only get bad–literally and visually–when Dean's tied up as Lee suddenly says wrong things in the dark.

The contrast exists to show that maintaining Goodness is a choice, and Dean would have no problem upholding that.

LEE: It's called a marid. It's a freaky-looking little thing, isn't it? [Lee laughs, and Dean stares at him, incredulous] Ah. As long as you feed it, it gives you money, it gives you health, everything you dreamed of.

DEAN: And so, what, it just costs innocent lives?

LEE: Dean, you and I both know no one's innocent. After everything we've done, aren't... aren't we owed a little happiness, huh? Don't we deserve that much?

DEAN: Listen to yourself. "We're owed." "We deserve." Come on, man. You're not God. Hell, God's not even God.

LEE: Good or bad... the world doesn't care. No one cares, Dean.

DEAN: Well, I do.

LEE: Yeah. And that's what got you here. Now, takes a while to drain a man, but listen to me. Don't worry about it, all right? Don't worry because once you lose a couple of pints, you just fall asleep, and then it'll be over.

[Lee pats Dean on the shoulder]

DEAN: Lee.

LEE: This... this is not how I wanted this to go, Dean. When that blonde girl walked in here last night, I should've know, you know, Dean Winchester, the righter of wrongs, you were gonna keep digging, and you were gonna figure me out. And if it's got to be you or me, well, I got to pick me, man.

"No one cares, Dean."

"Well, I do."

It's a reminder to himself as much as it is to Lee. It's a re-centering of purpose that he sorely needs.

And what's also key? Lee is human, but is now a "monster" in Dean's words. Because Lee lost his ability to care, Dean can't abide by that.

(Side note: bonus for the fact that Lee dies up against a wall by being impaled and he coughs up blood. You know who doesn’t cough up blood in their very weird and unrealistic death scene? Dean in the finale.)

Remember: Lee is a dark mirror for Dean. "I am you."

By fighting and (tragically) killing Lee, Dean "kills" the darker side of himself. The side that's struggling to keep going right now... AND the side that fears eventually wanting a break means you must be selfish and stop caring.

He can keep going. He can find strength to fight God–and in the end, take a break and CHOOSE peace. It won't make him dark. He's the most caring man on Earth, even when it's hard. That’s reinforced later.

Isn't he owed a little happiness? And that's not in the having. It's in just being.

The bonus is what's going on with Cas in this episode.

Dean's clearing his head and finding his center again while Cas is calling him.

Come home. I need you. Remember what matters.

And again, contrast: Lee turns out not to be "real/true" in the way Dean thought he was. But Cas IS.

And after Dean goes through all of this... he's grounded again, he recognizes that even amongst questions of what God controls there are still choices to be made, he's reminded that letting his caring heart lead him is priority, he's lost another friend...

He comes home to Cas.

It's awkward. They're still distanced.

But this episode is a turning point for Dean. He's not angry at Cas anymore, he wants to talk, he's ready to move forward... he just doesn't know how to yet.

And if you follow the through-line... then you get Rowena saying "fix it"... and then after that is the Purgatory prayer.

I just !!!

S15 is packed with Dean development to hone in towards the end of his arc, but "Last Call" manages to hit SO many buttons.

• He's always been bi, & is ready to be Out

• He can want a break–& maybe run a bar like the Roadhouse

• Caring is at the core of who he is

It's about the CHOICE. It's about wanting to live your truths, and that "caring" can mean many things–from defeating God and saving the world, to making the hard choices when it counts, to maybe running a bar where people are safe.

14x10 and its matching Texan Star also say hello:

DEAN: How come you always have a boyfriend?

PAMELA: How come you only want what you can't have?

DEAN: Whoa.

PAMELA: Besides, you don't want me. You just like to flirt. I'm a psychic, so I kinda know.

DEAN: All right.

PAMELA: So, still not ready to sell the bar, huh? It's a lot of money.

DEAN: Sell? This bar? This is my dream.

PAMELA; Yeah.

And I recognize that rereading this info is sad(der) now because of what we got in the end, so uh... sorry.

But that's half the point: it's repeatedly blatantly clear what we were meant to get, down to deliberate echoes in word choice–caring, happiness, deserve, even Roadhouse.

Dean was meant to choose to take a break, maybe run a bar–whether on Earth or in Heaven. At minimum, if Dean was meant to end up in Heaven, he was meant to choose it with eyes wide open. And the next time the phone rang with Cas' name (15x19), he RAN for him. He was VERY ready.

And the whole season tells you that. This episode is just my favorite.

So... thanks for letting me ramble on about it!!!

DEAN WINCHESTER: BI ICON, ONCE-LOVER OF LEE WEBB, THE MOST CARING MAN ON EARTH WHO DESERVED TO CHOOSE PEACE AFTER GAINING HIS FREEDOM, & SOULMATE TO AN ANGEL

And a very big thank you to the talented kings Jensen Ackles & Christian Kane, and their longstanding friendship. They gave me many rights with their acting choices.

Here's an iconic bonus for the road.

#supernatural #spn meta #15x07 Last Call #Lee Webb #Dean Winchester #Destiel #Dean is bi #took a lot of self control for me to not go FUCKING FERAL in this #char writes things

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dumbass-mha-simp · 3 years

Text

Elliott x GN!Reader

Your New Playlist

Kinda sad? Ig angst but not actually like, bad angst yk.

1k words

Stardew Valley

Warnings: crying, mentally beating yourself over a crush, self-sacrificing but not in a death kinda way, cussing (I think like one f word), Elliott is a theater kid you can't convince me otherwise,

I wanna do a part two, would anyone be interested? I know how much us Elliott simps want fanfiction. I'm probably gonna start on it anyway lol.

Yes I actually made this playlist smh ikik, you don't have to listen to it ofc but his aesthetic really fits my music taste, at least I feel so. I write my fanfiction as gender neutral as I can but if you ever spot any mistakes I'd love to fix it!!

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

Elliott's POV

My feet took me across the path leading to Leah's house. The gentle cotton clouds stretching their wisps across the blue sky, bright enough to blind me as though it were the sun that it surrounds. The gentle new Spring breeze froze my cheeks lightly as my eyes closed to avoid the same chill from the past winter.

Fresh Spring flowers and hidden vegetables encircled her yard as I made my way to knock against the dark wood door that always seemed thunderingly loud.

Leah peaked through the window by her door before I can see her face light up and reach for the door.

"Hey, c'mon in!" She opens the door wider to let me pass through. "How are you doing?"

"If I'm honest, a little troubled." I sigh looking forlornly to the floor.

"Come sit." Leah pulls me to her table and sits in the accompanying seat. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Leah, what does it feel like to you before you admit you fancy someone?" I look up into her listening eyes before her face changes into slight shock.

"Hmmm." She brings her hand up to her chin as she ponders. "Well, you miss being around them when they're gone. You constantly find ways to connect anything back to them, like `oh they'd love this`, or `I should check up on them.` You care about their opinion more than others and you want to learn about them, even if it's the uninteresting things."

I slide my arms down onto the table, placing my head on top of them. That sounded exactly like what's happening. I had read about it a million times, falling gently in love with a close friend. Perhaps that interest to become friends was always attraction.

"I can't get enough of Y/N." I muffled through my folded arms sighing once again as I turned my head to finally look back up at Leah, the light stinging my eyes.

"Well maybe I could help you with getting more of them?" Leah smirked as she grabbed her phone from her pocket.

I lifted my head slightly panicked. "What are you doing?" I rushed out.

"Relax, I'm not telling Y/N. But they shared something with me. They have a wide music taste yes?"

I had heard some of their music. While they made us lunch, while they partake in their hobbies, when they hum near silently late at night on the beach. I nodded back thinking of how they never seemed to be signing along to a song similar to the others. Unpredictable, and absolutely captivating.

"Well one of their tastes in music is very folk-y and they mentioned how those songs reminded them of you. So they made a playlist of songs that remind themselves of you." Leah said looking down and scrolling through her phone.

They made a playlist about me. They actively want to remember and listen to things that remind themselves of me. I feel I might faint. Was this something that was common among friends? Was this nothing more than an act of kindness? Or something they decided to do on a whim?

"Here give me your phone I'll send it to you." She holds her hand out expectantly.

I quickly go to pull out the hardly used device. I had never had much use for it but if it could bring me any step closer to Y/N I wouldn't hesitate to learn.

Leah downloaded a music app, laughing at how I had no applications. Before leaving it opened on the playlist. "The Lonely, Ocean-Accompanied, Writer." It read. I reread it a couple times to convince myself it was real. A lovely name, but is that how they see me?

"Chill out, Romeo." Leah giggled. "I can practically see you overthinking everything. Just relax and listen to the songs, maybe they'll tell you something."

I wrapped my arms around her neck, hugging her closely before leaving to listen to the playlist.

~~~

As I shut the door behind me I pressed my back against it. I've never felt so scattered before. I looked for the volume button, turning it up before hitting play.

The songs, quiet but emotional. As though you had just lie down on the grass to cry or relieve tension or reminisce. They felt like a memory I had trouble recalling.

The songs seemed to renew me, before I heard one I distinctly remembered hearing before. From high-school theater club, a time in my life that was fond to me. I do remember Y/N telling me they loved musicals, hearing them hum along to Heathers while I wrote.

A song unlike most others on this list.

"When He Sees Me" from Waitress.

~~~

Y/N's POV

"Oh, Yoba. What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door, And I can't close it?" I belted out the lyrics as loud as I wanted, the tears streaming down my face unwavering.

The good side to owning your own farm is you could scream along to your songs without people to complain. You had been replaying this part of the song for awhile now. He was all you could seem to think about.

Your head was swarmed with thoughts of Elliott. Some where he reciprocated your feelings and others where he shut you out. Every time you built a daydream where he loved you unconditionally you trampled it with the thoughts of his rejection.

You brought your knees up to your chest, resting your head between them as you cried.

~~~

Elliott's POV

We had had conversations about musicals, perhaps that's why they chose this song? Maybe they thought since my school had a play of Waitress that it'd fit. But I know they liked other Waitress songs, why weren't those added? Only this one.

After that song came another, "I Hear A Symphony" one I've never heard. As the song started all I could see was Y/N. I could hear them singing along, their smile, their eyes averting to mine for the thousandth time.

Y/N was my symphony.

The powerful, breathtaking ocean couldn't compare to the awkward farmer that ran across town just to give me their best sweet pea flowers and be the first thing I saw as I left my quaint cabin.

They brought the motivation and inspiration for 8 hour writing sessions, they brought me food when they knew I'd forgotten to eat between writing the book and planning on what to write next.

They were something I could never dream of losing. I wished to live the rest of my life with their support.

If telling them my feelings means I'd lose them, then I couldn't dream of making such a selfish decision.

~~~

Y/N's POV

I trudged my way into town. After last night's crying session my eyes still felt a bit dry, if I'm honest I cried when I woke up as well. The loneliness felt suffocating in such a lonely little house. But I needed some new seeds. The stone path drawing all my attention as I walked.

As I walked into Pierre's it wasn't hard to tell that people could see something was off. After buying my seeds I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning around to find Elliott.

"Y/N are you feeling alright? You look as though you've been distressed lately." You motion to him to follow you and walks out of the store behind you.

You take a deep breath as you start to tear up a bit more. He reaches for your face as he lifts it up, looking at the pooling tears.

So many things, the things you could have said. But they didn't come up. Instead a vision of his face of discomfort at your confession. You couldn't bear it. You couldn't tell him.

"I've just been stressed. I'm sorry for worrying you, Elliott." You sigh, attempting to put up a fake smile as you wipe your eyes. He retracts his hand as he looks guilty. Fuck does he feel like it's his fault?

"Well I'm willing to listen to your troubles if you ever need." He also puts on a strained smile as you both part ways.

"This is for the best." They both whisper as they leave.

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sophsicle · 2 years

Note

Hello, hello! Let me just start off by saying that I love Choices to bits. I’ve reread it at least three times in the past two weeks since I’ve discovered it, and I’ve been recommending it non-stop to anyone who would listen. It’s truly one of the best pieces of fan fiction I have ever had the pleasure of reading, so thank you for that. I have a few songs by Sleeping At Last that remind me of some themes/characters in the story, so I thought I might share them with you and see what you think.

‘Eight’ reminds me of Regulus with lyrics like: “I can't let you see all that I have to lose and all I've lost in the fight to protect it. I can't let you in, I swore never again, I can't afford to let myself be blindsided” and also “I was just a kid who grew up strong enough to pick this armor up and suddenly it fit.” Need I say more?

‘Two’ reminds me of James because it talks about someone who loves others at the cost of themselves. The lyrics that hit the hardest are: “I know exactly how the rule goes: put my mask on first. No, I don't want to talk about myself, tell me where it hurts. I just want to build you up, build you up, till you're good as new. And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too” and also “You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat.”

‘Neptune’ makes me think of Sirius and his struggle to be better, kinder, more vulnerable, especially with Remus. I love how you wrote him to be an innately good person, but not a saint, as I think that would’ve been unrealistic considering the kind of environment he grew up in. Some lyrics in this song that I feel really apply to him are: “I wanna love you but I don’t know how” and “You let me set sail with cheap wood, so I patched up every leak that I could, till the blame grew too heavy” and also “Stitch by stitch I tear apart, if brokenness is a form of art, then I must be a poster child prodigy.”

And finally, the song ‘Mars’ just fits with the war aspect of the story. Meaning, when the students graduated from school to battles, and the order. For example: “We were so full of life, we could barely hold it in. We were amateurs at war, and strangers to suffering.”

Anyways, this got a little longer than I had thought it would be. Please don’t feel any pressure to reply if you’re too busy, I just really admire your work and wanted to share this with you. Thanks again! <3

Hello lovely! Thank you so much! I love this song breakdown. I especially agree with "Two" for James and "Neptune" for Sirius, like 100% think those songs fit those characters in this fic. I also think "Atlas: Touch" feels like Regulus ot me, especially at the part of the story we're at right now.

When will I feel this As vivid as it truly is? Fall in love in a single touch And fall apart when it hurts too much and also Invisible machinery These moving parts inside of me Well, they've been shutting down for quite some time Leaving only rust behind Something about that numbness and the feeling of being on a precipice, where if something doesn't change we might never be able to undo the damage, just really feels like him in these last chapters.

#choices #soph rambles

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littlenahsstuff · 3 years

Text

Sally Mckenna x Reader

A/n, geez this took me forever to actually get out. Not reread so I'm sorry but hope you still like it. Also I don't know how to do the friggan read more thing so... sorry again.

WARNINGS: implied death, implied abuse, sally being possessive, unhealthy relationships, sexual reference. Uhhh yeah plz read at ur own risk.

It's a wonder to many how Sally ended up with a girl like you. Sally was a wrecked soul made of ash and fire and the gasoline lighting it and tears and pained laughs. You were a hopeful wanderer made of soft kisses and poems and snowflakes and pretty fragile flower petals and innocence. Or maybe sweetness. Even though, you were a rabbit and Sally, a fox. Possessive and cunning over her prey.

You met when you went to the Cortez to get away from your past, from the people who hurt you, from her. Truth was you were terrified of anyone and everyone and... well she said she could protect you. You believed her too.

***<>***<>***<>***

"Hey babydoll, why ya crying without a drink in your hand? After all, your at the bar and clearly because you don't want to be alone in your room," she spoke husky and blunt. You were awfully shy and you spooked easily.

"Oh I just, I'm not usually one to drink. It makes you do things," you whispered, still not meeting the ladies face. Your twiddling thumbs were looking awfully nice to you right now.

The truth was she was right, you didn't want to be alone. Not after the year of being alone with her. Though, the alcohol only served to remind you of her more, it was the only place you could go with people who you don't know. With people.

"Aw, that's okay. But c'mon I'll keep you some company, only if you let me buy you at least a little liquid courage. We can't have you being this shy with me the whole night," she ended her bargain with a deep chuckle. It was startling how quickly you agreed to her.

So making your decision you let out an okay and decided you should know what this person looks like at least.

Upon your scan of her you figured out 5 important things. 1. This woman was crying earlier and you knew because her eyeliner smudged and dripped in tracks. 2. She was wild. This was given by her frizzy blonde hair that looked as dead as her, yet so alive. 3. She had an odd sense of fashion that complimented her too perfectly. Her leopard print coat and older dress told you this one. 4. She holds more emotion in her brown eyes than in anyone else as a whole that you've ever seen. The fact that even with the immense amount of depth in them, you could still see a twinkle in the depth of them, shocked you. 5. She was and still is the most beautiful person you've ever seen and she's trouble.

"Okay, sure. Thanks," you exhaled. And thus you two were forever in each other's debts. For you both were never alone after that day.

***<>***<>***<>***

"Hey sweets," you called out into room 64, "I brought you something!" You always felt bad for leaving her so you ended up getting her things that reminded you of her. This time it was a new guitar. Sure it was a little expensive but you didn't mind, you practically lived at the Cortez now and for almost free.

You, of course, know that Sally is a ghost and that she can never roam farther than a few steps out of the Cortez. It breaks your heart that you can't take her with you to explore the world you couldn't before but you just have to. Your ex never let you, so having a job and getting to actually do things was something you thought you would never be able to again. Yet here you are.

One problem, Sally doesn't like it either. It doesn't matter how many gifts you give, she just wants you. Her approaches aren't nearly as rough as your ex when she wants you to stay and she would never be too harsh with you. Or so you believe.

Sally had been plotting this night forever, she was gonna ask you to die tonight and stay with her forever. She needed you here. She needed you to stop leaving her.

Of course you were her precious angel and she understood that you loved exploring, but she could never shake the sense that you were too eager and would get yourself hurt or worse, killed. Then she would be alone forever again. She couldn't be alone and she had to make sure you stayed with her. So even if you didn't know better and wanted to still go out despite the danger, she had precautions in place to keep you safe.

So, this night had to be special and romantic. She had made your favorite meal, despite not being a master chef. She had set up a romantic scene in your room and it. Was. Perfect.

How could you say no after this?

"Hi babydoll. I made you dinner, your favorite Y/N," she appeared next to you. You made a slight jump, but collected yourself when you saw it.

"It's gorgeous," you gasped. Your eyes marveled at the candlelight, neat placement of the silverware, and your absolute fav dish on the table.

"The best for my babydoll," Sally smirked, kissing you on the cheek. You twiddle with your thumbs again.

"I'm sorry," you suddenly spoke, eyes downcast. Fear shot through your spine and your thoughts raced. Did I forget something important?!

"Hey, Y/N, look at me. I know that look what's wrong?" Sally's tone was soft and she added some comforting rubbing on your back to ease you.

"I- Did I forget something? I know your birthday's not today or our anniversary or-did we make plans? I can't remember. I'm so sorry, I promise I can do better," You said meekly and decidedly.

"Oh," Sally's heart broke. She hated when you got like this. So stiff and afraid if herself and all because of her. "Babydoll, I just wanted to do something special for you. Dont worry everything's gonna be just fine."

"Well..." you paused, relief had worked itself through you, "Thank you so much, this is so lovely. I love you so much Sally. I um, got you this," you handed her the new guitar.

It was light weighted and had a darker wood, practically perfect to Sally. At least... that was until she gazed upon the not so delicate etching in the side. Sally & Y/n 4ever. A message not long forgotten to her. You meant it too.

You made a deal that when you were ready, you would kill yourself to be with her at the Cortez. Till death do we not part, you had joked. It would be a day when you would at least be no younger than 30, you were 24 now.

So today was not that day. Or rather tonight.

But it didn't make the phrase any less emotional for Sally. Despite the agreement. So with shaky hands she reached out for the instrument.

"I love it baby," she whispered from her messily painted lips. Her fingers brushed across each copper string. They plucked one by one at it, each ringing out with the vibration. It was out of tune but surely nothing she couldn't fix. You must have gotten it at a pawn shop. Usually ones elsewhere come pretuned.

Relief flooded over you as you saw the smirk snake upon the ghost's lips. She did like it, good.

"Well as much as I would like to play this baby. I think you might be a little hungry, it is 10. Can't have my meal without her having hers first Y/n." Sally smirked at the way your cheeks went aflame.

"Okay," you whispered, looking at the table and sitting down. The ghost followed suit.

With a click, warmth was made from Sally's cig lighter.

Candlelight brightened the both of yours faces, adding a yellowish tint. This tint was especially viable upon Sally's pale face and the shadows stood in stark contrast, formed from her chiseled cheekbones.

They could cut you.

Knowing that Sally is impatient at times and was highly receptive to others actions and expressions, told you that briskly, you should tuck in. Boy did you tuck in.

The first bite was pure bliss. Enough so that a moan was let out and you craved more from the first touch to a tastebud.

Sally watched as pleased as can be. You liked her food, it was praise that came from your reaction and because of that she's happy.

The second bite happened after of course and this one tasted oddly different. Not bad, but as if it was bitter.

Then Sally ate, she chewed with a hum. Of course eating wasn't necessary, but anybody except some anorexics can appreciate the taste.

She then sputtered a giggle, "Too much parsley, oops." It explained it, it's why it was so bitter.

Then silence as food was enjoyed. The atmosphere was tense with a question wafting through.

Fortunately, Sally exudes so much emotion in that slim frame of hers that you didn't have to wait long to be asked it.

"Will you stay with me?" She asks. Oh dear. Again? Is this why she made me this?

"Of course, I would never leave you for someone else." It's stated firmly but calmly. She needed nothing else.

"No, I mean stay with me, forever... as a ghost babydoll. Tonight?" She clarifies with hesitation. Breathing gets harder a bit, not too terribly but enough to feel as if something's stuck in you esophagus.

"I, but I thought you wanted me to experience stuff?" You croaked. You wanted to cry, because you thought there was more time.

"You have, but I think that now you know life without that much pain, you can stay here. It's not a safe world out there, just like it was with them. I wanted to have you see that. You just haven't," she explains. You think.

If this is what she really wants...

"And besides we can live together. It's not like there isn't anything here. I always moan and groan about it but I could be stuck somewhere worse and with you here it would be p-"

"O-okay," you decide. You sound like a mouse and the tears have only been growing.

Sally stops, not expecting that. She thought you would have said no. She made a grave mistake.

"Really?" She asks dumfoundedly.

You nod slow and with a slight twitch as a sob wrecks you silently. "Yes, but only the way I want. I want to be killed by myself. It's my decision. It's my death. I don't want anybody taking it away, not even you Sally."

Sally really messed up now.

"Oh god." You mistake her statement as happiness that she doesn't know how to deal with. So you take it as agreement to your terms.

Thus you move upward out of your seat to hug her and that niggle in your throat itches, getting worse. The headache brewing ever since eating is tenfold what it was. Bile is a sickly fiend approaching up way your throat.

Pain seeps through your innards to your mind. Pain wracked your bones and breaks your heart. Pain.

The table you gripped was no longer there, causing clenching on nothing but wind while you tumbled down onto the floor, your foot snagging on the chair leg as well.

"Oh Babydoll no," Sally wails, making sure you can't see her, but can feel her presence and hear her voice. She's ashamed and you realized she did this.

That wasn't parsley that tasted bitter.

She's smarter than she looks but blind as well. You would die for her at this hotel and she couldn't see it.

So she had to make sure you would regardless.

You layed there with sorrow and betrayal. She took the one thing you never got, freedom of choice. It was never about protecting you that you held onto. It was that she would honor you. What they didn't do.

She broke fine china, already so fragile and yet handled with improper care still despite it's value.

The etching on the guitar served to mock.

Sally & Y/n 4ever

#sarah paulson x reader #sally mckenna #sally mckenna x reader

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allthingsfern · 3 years

Text

In order, my responses to comments in Reply of my COVID19 era post that was my answer to my question “My answer to my questions: Has the era of COVID19 changed your photography? How? And perhaps also, why?“ I am so confused now...

adventuresofalgy

Algy thinks you are lucky and - certainly if compared with Europeans - perhaps quite unusual in not having experienced a more profound effect on your creative outlets and expression. Many of Algy's creative friends have experienced wide-ranging and often severe impacts on their creativity and associated motivation - and therefore on their mental health as well.

themazette

As @adventuresofalgy Jenny said.... you are lucky...

I am indeed very lucky, or as I think of it, blessed. However, it is no way a US thing, nor even a California thing. I add California, because I know many in the US and around the world think of the Golden State as a haven, a progressive, hippie filled state that is all about peace and love and marijuana. However, that is far from the truth. California is like Germany in the 1920s and 30s. There was Berlin, where there was a wildness in the city that was not shared, and was often looked-down on, by those in the majority of the country, who lived in more conservative areas and who, often, economically could not afford the grand life of partying Berliners. In California it is the same. Except for a few urban areas, the state is full of very conservative folks, and for them, like for those in the cities (and in the rest of the world) this COVID19 era has been devastating. Well, and the fires for Californians have been too.

Even in this cool college town where I live, which is lovely and quiet and inspiring, the painfully empty streets, movie theaters, restaurants, shops (think of all those unemployed people) is (still) staggering. In mid-March last year, right after lockdown, I took several phone videos of the deserted street in our town and the campus, but I could not bring myself to share them, since I knew that so many others here on Tumblr were experiencing the same desolation in many different ways. (I figured: “Why add to the sorrow we are living, almost globally?”) I was overwhelmed by the emptiness of the major (well, major for a small town of around 65,000 people) street where I live and the empty bicycle trails and street on campus. And by empty, I mean that even now, I see maybe 3 cyclists per hour, and very little car traffic. Remember, this is a bicycle town; I do not own a car, doing most all my errands on my bike with its 2 fordable baskets in the rear.

And now, over a year later, that same heavy, oppressive emptiness persists. And no, I am not used to it. And yes, I traveled over the last year, but I found the same suffocating blanket of emptiness in each city I visited, even in Las Vegas. It was unnerving. As a matter of fact, last year when I drove to San Francisco 2 months after lockdown for my birthday, I wound up getting depressed and disoriented, in a city where I lived for almost 7 years. Driving back home across the Golden Gate Bridge with tears of sadness in my eyes on my birthday was not what I expected. However, I did get some solid photos of the malaise that hung thick in the air, a malaise that physically took up the space that once was taken up by crowds of people.

Now, I am also very aware that my situation is unique. (Not a fan of the word exceptional, since it can mean both unique and special, and I do not see my situation as special.) My life situation is very unique in that I have a job I love and I work with a great team of characters. We get work done and we have fun, share about our lives. My job is often, especially since COVID19 first got noticed in early 2020, stressful and demands my colleagues and I learn (and sometimes then teach) lots of new technology and that we adapt to the vagaries of the technology gods, which are sometimes unfriendly and unresponsive. And a big part of my job is trying to figure out how to get the technology gods to like us again and grace us with their gifts. (I never realized, until now, with this discussion, that the troubleshooting that is a big part of my job is creative and probably fuels my photographic creativity. Who knew?) Yet, as a group, my colleagues and I support each other. And I am fortunate to count my closest colleague, Steve, as a friend. We have been a great emotional support to each other over the years and now through this COVID19 era. And I recently was reminded (as if I needed reminding) just how unique my work situation is because I participated in a committee that was going over responses to a UC Davis-wide survey exploring levels of employee satisfaction. My 2 colleagues who were also on that committee and I did not have the complaints that others from other departments shared. We work well together, have supportive management that share what is going on and include us (as mush as possible) in the decision making process. And as a department, we get stuff done.

Possibly the best example of how blessedly unique my situation is is what happened this morning when I was talking (yes, on ZOOM) with my immediate supervisor. We discussed the work related stuff, including how at around 10:30 pm the night before I figured something out about an online tool integration I had never done before that I knew was easy but I did not see as easy until I reread the overly complicated instructions a couple of times and just figured out how and where to cut and paste the lines of code (it was that easy, just fucking cut and paste some lines of JSON code) that got the fucking thing to work. Then we talked about his dealing with his young children returning to school and how “normal” now is not “normal” from before and how disruptive the whole thing has been, yet since we work in a supportive atmosphere (and are both salaried), he was able to deal and keep living.

Then, and you are gonna love this, I shared about my original COVID19 question post and the responses and pretty much said to him what I am sharing here.

We talked for a little over an hour. That kind of rapport is rare, for any job, anywhere.

And then there is another way my situation is unique. In some ways, previous “bad things” were actually a preparation for this era of physical distance and uncertainty. In mid-2019, from July to August, first because of my work related bowling concussion and then an antibiotic resistant infection, I was bedridden for about 5 weeks and then had several absences because of concussion issues, like sudden and extreme anger flare ups, nausea, headaches. But however bad I thought that concussion and infection were, the concussion induced forgetfulness and my desire to sharpen my mind and nurture and nourish it have lead me to become, in my old age, organized. I now often take notes of important stuff, add work and personal dates and notes to my Outlook calendar, and even know what day it is, which bugs my colleagues who often find they have no idea what day and/or date it is. Yep, unique, but the bad concussion shit got me to be organized in ways that I was never able to be before, no matter what I tried. This time, I just fucking get organized, without thinking about it too much. And if I fuck up with my being organized, like I did the other day for work, I admit it, fix it, and move on.

Preparation for isolation (and unexpected natural threats) came by way of the 2018 Northern California (the region where I live) fires that year, which caused the campus to shut down for about a week. (As my friend Steve called it, the smoking break.) And for work, my colleagues and I faced a couple of long term, emergency technical outages that impacted all of the UC Davis faculty, one of them for over a month. Pretty much on a professional and personal level, I was, if not ready, at least getting used to the WTF of whatever life decides to surprise me with. (And lets not forget the really bad fire last September, seen in this video I posted of ash “snow” falling. We did not have to shut down the campus because there was no one there anyway.)

Another aspect of this last year, and one that has been present in my life for a few years now, is the BLM movement and the brutal police violence against Black people in this country. As someone who was a teaching assistant and taught in African American Studies and worked closely with students of color on campus in a student run organization, I was and am still devastated, in part because I know, from hearing so many personal accounts, the pain many of my friends, former colleagues, and former students, are still facing and how overwhelmed they felt and still feel. I understand, if as an outsider, their emotional exhaustion. This has been going on for a while, plus add the years of anti-immigrant hate against the Latinx in the US and the rising tide of violent hate against Asians, and yes, it has been sorrowful. Heartbreaking. And I have, in several ways, including my photography, tried to capture the sorrow and resilience of US people of color. It hurts, almost physically, that many people of color are just tired of talking and dealing with the hate.

So, yes, my situation is unique, but with its own emotionally draining weight. And yes, I am extremely grateful. This leads to the other 2 comments in Reply:

kkomppa

Thank you for sharing, Fern. Very interesting. Like you, I would say my output hasn’t changed much. However, I have sought locations deeper in the wilderness. This has been fulfilling.

schwarzkaeppchen

Really interesting thoughts. We live in strange times, but creativity and motivation comes and goes for so many different reasons. My photography has changed a lot. I used to work as a photographer at events and took portraits for fun... Now I'm officially a portrait photographer.

Both of these comments point to another unique aspect of my life situation: For some of us, our photography and how we do it, has not changed much, and if it has, that has been a part of our overall experience with this art form we love so much.

For me, because of my depressive tendencies, the Zen of photography, at least the way I do it, is therapeutic. And I do not use the term “Zen” lightly here, because my spiritual life has helped me come to terms with the WTF surprises that are pretty much life, if at times the WTF of it is more impactful, as it is during this COVID19 era. And that is part of what I was trying to share with my original post: Before this period of isolation and disorientation, I was already coming to grips with the gospel truth that “creativity and motivation comes and goes for so many different reasons.” as @schwarzkaeppchen said. In no way do I diminish the anguish flared up by these bleak times that impact so many around the world. And really, when you think about it, bleak times have been a norm, at least here in the US, since late 2016, though, of course, lockdowns and physical distance make it all worse. But, at least for me, I try to learn from the bleak times, even if I abhor going through them. And when dealing with the highs and lows of creative energy, at least for me, I have a calm certainty that photography is part of my life and I do not have to worry, since I only love it more each day. And the other side to my certainty is that if someday my love of photography fades, some other treasure of creativity will replace it.

Let’s be real, because of photography. I think about stuff like this and get to have discussions with so many great Tumblr original photographers.

And I am grateful for it, and no, this is not unique to my life situation. I know many of us love being here and sharing the good, the bad, the confounding.

Please think about joining @tvoom and me for InConverversation this month. It has been a long time since we talked, and this COVID19 era will be our topic.

I am grateful for all y’all.

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magpiefngrl · 3 years

Note

Do you think people taking issue with the noncon/consent exploration in mdzs are people who mainly read fanfiction? I'm wondering because I've recently read both atonement and the world according to garp and I found both interesting and good reads even when I morally disagreed with the main characters actions or opinions, whereas in fanfiction I often look for 'canon fix its'. All my favorite mdzs fics are about people making amends. Maybe for some reason people want mdzs to be an explicitly queer fanfic version of the untamed? Idk, I think what I really want is to read a full-blown thesis on fandoms

Hi anon and apologies for my late reply.

The short answer: I don't know. I have to say, first, that I'm mainly on the periphery of the mdzs/cql fandoms (who congregate on twitter), I haven't made many new fandom pals, and I keep seeing posts about drama that has happened somewhere somewhen but never the actual drama. I keep missing all the wank lol (seriously, tho: fandom wank can be very illuminating as to the attitudes of the fanbase)

In short, I'm not very knowledgeable as to the prevalent fandom mentality and why people might complain about the consent issues, but if I were to make some assumptions, this is what they'd be:

Firstly, the topic itself. Consent is a sensitive topic, it's a huge trigger for many, and it's understandable that some people don't want to read wangxian's con noncon kink or a dub con kiss or anything similar. Which is perfectly fine, they should stop reading a narrative that explores consent throughout in order to keep themselves safe.

But my gut tells me that you're right, though, in that many of the people kicking up a fuss about the consent issues of mdzs are mostly people who came from cql; in other words, people who have watched the subtle version of wangxian romance, and are used to fanfic or published romance novels like Carry On etc, and expect something similar. They expect romance. Porn. The kind of sex you read in fanfic or in the romance novel section of KU, which is meant to arouse and titillate. When I began reading MXTX's novels, I also initially assumed they'd be like fanfics: a story with a canonically queer pairing posted on internet? It was also my own assumption, come to think of it.

From what I've seen, the romance is the key re: consent (the dub con kiss, the incense burner extra etc) because few, if any, have made similar complaints about the non-consensual golden core transfer, which is the only massively and unarguably noncon instance in the whole series. I've seen excellent meta about it, but not the vehement reactions and hate that the sex scenes have gathered.

The number of fans who began reading danmei recently (and I'm including myself here) must have quadrupled since the success of cql. It's a niche, very niche genre that became almost mainstream, and of course there'd be friction. The success of cql plus other adaptations brought a lot of people that prob wouldn't read danmei or enjoy it. Which is fine to not want to read it, it's fine to dislike the genre, as it's fine to explore new genres and discover new things but many fans, imo, came with the expectations mentioned above. That it's cql but with hot sex. Fans of the novel mdzs are (I'm speculating) people who are comfortable with a highly nuanced book about many weighty themes incl. consent, and prob read similar books which all seem to feature hugely messed up characters and grey morality and be angsty af, so I'd be surprised if the original danmei fans were the ones complaining about a rape fantasy in an extra.

As for wanting to see different things in fanfic, well, that's what fic does, isn't it? It's pure wish fulfillment. You write about the ship you think should be together, or happy endings for the ship that didn't get one, or the yunmeng siblings reconciliation that we all wished we'd see, or Wen Qing being alive etc. It's what we didn't get. I love reading this in fics but I also loved the actual canon story. If I read books that remind me of fanfic (in that everything is neat and orderly and people are being their Best Selves and make few, understandable mistakes for which they immediately apologise), I don't actually enjoy them. I relish the Atonement angst (read this ages ago; should give it a reread), but if I were to read Atonement fanfic, I'd like a happy ending, you know? I get different things from fic than I do from novels, but a lot of people read only fanfic and perhaps they think that's how stories are.

I've rambled on and on. As I've said, I am just a lurker in this fandom. I assume others might have a better understanding of why people have whined so much about the noncon elements of a novel nobody forced them to read. (i'm being salty bc most of the times people complained about this they were also incredibly dismissive towards the author and the genre to the point of coming across as culturally insensitive and racist. Lots of bad faith takes, basically.)

I'm also fascinated by fandom ecosystems---I'd love to read a good thesis on the mdzs/cql fandom too.

#inbox #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #consent issues #tw rape fantasy #just to be safe

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minyoongiest · 4 years

Text

What’s Poppin’, Girl? || KNJ (M)

• pairing: Namjoon x reader

• rating: MA/18+

• type/genre: smut, fluff, idol!au, established relationship

• word count: 5k

• summary: After writing a lengthy term paper, some alone time with your fresh-out-of-the-shower boyfriend is a good way to destress.

• contains: explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral (both receiving, not simultaneously), vaginal sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, post-sex cuddling

• note: This is essentially a commission I did (but for free) for my good friend who loves Joon. It was a little strange to write since I’m much more comfortable writing about Yoongi, but let me know if you like it. (Translations are at the end.)

|| ao3 ||

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I glare at the little number at the bottom of my screen reminding me again that my grad paper is still ten words short of the required word count. I release a slow breath and start rereading it again from the top, trying to figure out where I could possibly fit another sentence, even though I can’t think of a single thing left to say on this subject. I mean, it’s psychology, so there’s plenty to say, but my brain is fried, and I would like to be done now.

I let out a frustrated noise and shut my eyes.

“Gwaenchanh-a?” Joon’s deep voice asks distractedly from above me.

“What if I just quit?”

I tilt my head back on the pillow I’m leaning against, which is resting against Joon’s thigh, and look up to see him frowning at me, his attention stolen from the book in his hands.

“What?”

“This is…stupid.” I glare at my computer screen. “I mean, it’s important, but I’m so done.”

“How much more do you have?” He squints at my paper so far.

“Ten words.”

“Ten words?” His eyes widen, and then he slowly shakes his head. “You can do ten words.”

Suddenly, the pillow I’m leaning on shifts, and I jerk upright.

“Where are you going?” I twist on the couch as he stands and sets his book on the coffee table.

“To take a shower,” he looks back at me with his arms stretched behind his head.

“But you were helping me,” I complain instantly. “Don’t leave.”

“You’re doing homework.” He gestures to my computer. “I didn’t think you needed me for that. I figured when I get out of the shower, you’ll be done and we can do something together instead.”

I’m still a little annoyed he’s abandoning me, but he also piqued my interest.

“What kind of ‘something together’ are you thinking of?”

He grins, and I hate it because it’s beautiful and dimply and way too sexy for doing homework.

“Just finish your paper.”

I open my mouth to argue and then freeze when he pulls his shirt off giving me an eyeful of his bare back.

Before he disappears into the bedroom. It takes a second before I can turn back to my homework, my body even less interested in this damn paper than earlier.

“Asshole,” I mumble, even though I don’t actually think that at all. “He could’ve just waited until I wrote the last ten words.”

Then again, if I finish fast enough, he’ll still be in the shower, which has lots of potential for doing “something together.” Something that involves orgasms, so a very good something.

Except.

I still have to come up with ten words for this paper. For fuck’s sake, since when has ten been such an impossibly large number? Setting my computer next to his book on the table, I get up and go into the kitchen for a Ramune soda. Maybe if I take a break for a second, I’ll be able to finish this paper from hell.

The soda helps, but it still takes me a million years to finish the paper. (Ok, fine, half an hour, but still.) When I’m done, I check over it one last time and make sure my sources are cited and formatted right before saving and submitting it. Then I put my computer down and twist my legs over the side of the couch to stand up.

It turns out half an hour is plenty of time for Joon to shower, because as I’m walking into the bedroom I hear the water go off. I had been planning to get in with him, but too late for that, which sucks because shower sex with Joon is always highly enjoyable.

Instead, I turn to the pile of clean clothes on the bed. Since we’re not doing it in the shower, and I’m still planning go have sex tonight, we’re going to need this to be laundry free.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” I turn toward the bathroom.

And then a miniature earthquake happens in every part of my body, it’s epicenter right between my thighs.

He’s wearing a thin white towel around his waist. His hair is damp and sticking out everywhere, and he’s grinning again.

Oh God. I can’t feel my legs.

“Wha–” I brace myself on the mattress. “What do you want?” I whisper.

His grin GETS. BIGGER.

And then he flexes his pecs.

FLEXES THEM.

WHILE HALF NAKED AND RIGHT IN MY FACE.

“Fuck,” I hiss as wet saturates between my now-trembling legs.

They’re about to give out, but that’s probably fine, since I’m already getting on my knees anyway.

“What are you doing?” the smile in his voice fades into confusion as I drop down next to the bed.

“You started this,” I look up at him, raising my eyebrows. “Do you want me to suck you off in that doorway or do you want to sit down?”

“Wait, what?” he blinks, and I move closer to him, reaching up to grab the flimsy fabric at his hips.

“I’m gonna blow you now,” I explain softer. “Which is what you were asking for when you popped those giant tiddies like that.”

His face starts to get red and he shakes his head.

“I was just–”

“Don’t make excuses,” I cut him off, tugging on the towel, which falls free easily. “You knew what you were…”

My sentence dies as my eyes land on his hard cock. Fully erect, lined with veins—the thickest one running right up the underside—the pink tip glistening with precum, tan shaft visibly throbbing… Fuck, I can practically feel the heat coming off of it against my face.

My mouth is literally watering. Shutting my eyes—even though the image of it is seared into my eyelids—I swallow and lick my lips before opening them again and reaching out with one hand.

“You know you don’t have to–”

I pause and look up at him, my hand hovering less than an inch away.

“I want to,” I tell him firmly, “and you want me to, don’t you?”

He coughs out a hoarse, “yes,” which is all I need to hear.

Brushing my fingertips along the feverish length, I lean forward and kiss the side of it close to the base. He grunts, and I see him brace an arm on the doorframe out of the corner of my eye before I look back at what I’m doing. I curl my whole hand around his shaft and begin sliding my fist up and down, kissing his leaking tip.

His hips buck suddenly, and he groans out my name, which is my cue to move things along. Letting go of him, I lean in again and start licking him all over. One of my hands goes to his hip to steady myself, while I use the other to tease his balls and run the edge of my fingernail up and down his shaft. When he’s slick all over, I sit back and blow a faint stream of air over him.

“Fuck, baby,” he bites out. “Oh God.”

I look up at him, meeting his eyes as I take his bulbous head between my lips. I suck on it gently before taking a little more, releasing some, and then taking more. I repeat it until I’m sliding almost all of him in and out of my mouth.

“Take it all, baby,” he gasps, and I wince.

I can’t take all of it or I’ll gag, which won’t be sexy at all. To make up for what I can’t fit, I take the remaining inches in my hand and start squeezing and twisting my fist as I begin sucking on him.

“Ssibal!”

His free hand slams into the doorframe, which he’s now gripping both sides of as I swirl my tongue around his swollen tip. Releasing him for a second to take a breath.

“Don’t stop,” he winces.

Nodding, I guide him into my mouth again before sliding my hands around his thighs to grab his ass.

He swears through his teeth, and I look up to see a vein popping in his neck. Warmth spreads in my chest, knowing I’m making him feel good. It also spreads in other places since having his dick in my mouth makes me feel good too.

I start sucking again, gently, dragging things out. Using his ass for leverage, I slowly begin taking more of him as I slide him in and out between my lips.

“More,” he whines at the same time his cheeks clench in my hands, forcing his cock further into my mouth.

I let out an involuntary moan around his thick shaft, and suddenly his hand is in my hair, holding me still as his hips jerk. My legs almost give out as I suck on him while he fucks my mouth.

Fuck. It’s so big. My eyes are watering.

He stops suddenly, pulling out, and I gasp in surprise.

“Why did you do that?” I hiss.

“You’re crying.”

My eyes widen, and I glare at him. “So?”

His face, twisted with arousal, turns into a frown.

“I’m gonna hurt you.”

“If you take this dick away from me, I’ll show you crying,” I snap at him.

“What?”

I sigh, and stroke the skin of his ass.

“Joon, just let me finish you off. I know you’re close.”

After a second, he nods, and I instantly pull him against me again, taking all of him in that I can before sucking deep.

“Son of a bitch!”

I continue sucking as I slide him in and out. He only lasts a few second before his cock twitches and suddenly hot streams of fluid are hitting the back of my throat. I focus on the heat and on swallowing it all, my hands holding on firmly to his ass as his hips jerk. When he’s spent, I release him slowly, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

“You okay?” I ask softly, climbing to my feet on quaking legs.

“Ne,” he murmurs. “Better than okay.”

“Good.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

I blink and, before I can ask what he means, my back is in the bed on top of the clean laundry.

“No, we can’t have sex here!”

“What?” His face twists with confusion. “This is our bed. This is where we have sex.”

“There’s clean clothes all over it.”

“I can fix that.”

And then before I can stop him, he’s shoved all the laundry onto the floor.

“Kim Namjoon!” I scramble to stand up. “Are you kidding me?”

“What? Now they’re not on the bed.”

“Now they’re dirty! Again! I just–”

The sudden smack surprises me, and I gasp looking over my shoulder.

“Did you just spank me?”

“Yes.”

The heat of it slides between my legs, and I bite my lip, turning my head to hide my blushing face.

“Did you like it?” he asks quieter.

“Mmhmm,” I nod, avoiding his eyes.

“Get on the bed, baby.”

I let out a shaky breath, forgetting the clothes on the floor, and climb back onto the mattress.

“It’s your turn,” he repeats his words from earlier. “I just came, so I’ll need a few minutes before I can go again.”

“That makes sense.”

“So until then, I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“First, I gotta get you naked,” he says in a deeper tone that does fantastic things to me.

“I can help with that.”

Rising up on my knees, I pull my top over my head and throw it on the floor. He reaches around to undo my bra, while I start pushing my leggings down past my waist. He flips me suddenly, and I let out a sharp cry as I land again. Taking the band of my pants in his large hands, he removes them and my underwear all at once.

“Goddamn, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, and a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupts in my belly.

His eyes travel over my nakedness, and I look away, afraid I might cry if I see the look of awe on his face a moment longer.

The kiss surprises me. His soft, perfect lips on mine. He does it again, and this time, I kiss him back, sliding my fingers in his wet hair, holding him to me.

He moves away, and I reluctantly let him go.

“Okay, come here.”

I blink as I sit up, watching him lie back on the pillows.

“What are you doing now?”

He leans forward and grabs me under my arms, hauling me over him until I’m straddling his waist.

“Like I said. It’s your turn.” He flicks his eyes up toward the headboard before meeting mine again, and a shiver runs down my spine. “Knees in the pillows, baby.”

My heart trips in my chest, and I take a quick breath before rising up on my knees and moving up the bed. His large hands slide up my thighs as I move over his shoulders, my skin immediately breaking out into goosebumps. Finally, my knees sink into the pillows on either side of his head, and I rest my hands on the headboard.

“How’s this?” I ask, looking down at him.

“Perfect,” he says softly.

One of his fingers trails through the wet between my legs, and I start panting. His large hands move to the outside of my hips, and suddenly I feel his hot breath moving over me. Oh God. A fresh ripple of heat tears through my pussy and I feel his eyes watching it. My fingers flex around the wood slats, and I whimper. Fuck, he hasn’t even touched me yet, and—

His lips brush my lips, just for a second, and I let out a soft whimper. Then his fingers are there, teasing and pulling at me, making me squirm above him.

“Joon,” I whine at him, my voice threaded with need.

“Patience.”

I can practically hear his dimply, sexy grin.

“You ready?” he asks as his fingertips curl in, brushing the insides of my thighs, every word sending a rush of air over my most sensitive place.

“Y-yes,” I whisper, but the word is barely out of my mouth before his hands lock on my hips and pull me down, my drenched sex pressed right against his face.

I gasp at the feel of his lips on me, his damn grin touching me right there. He kisses me, his soft lips puckering against my wetness, before his fingers slide around to my ass, which he grips firmly, and then his tongue is on me. I moan at the immediate heat of it, lapping at my soaked slit and toying with my clit. I barely resist the urge to grind on him.

“Fuck me,” he groans against me, making me moan, “so fucking sweet.”

“Don’t—Don’t say that,” I pant. “It’s cheating.”

He’s not allowed to be sweet during sex because I’ll cry, and crying during sex isn’t the stuff orgasms are made of.

“Mmm.”

Two of his long fingers slide into my pussy, and I feel my legs quake. He twists them as he removes them, causing my walls to squeeze acutely.

“Joon, please…”

“Baby, I got you,” he murmurs.

His hand moves back to my ass where he squeezes both of my cheeks in his palms. Suddenly, his lips part against me and he sucks deep. My back arches and a whimper tears out of my throat.

Then he’s just sucking. On everything. My lips, my clit, my thighs. His fingers dig into my ass, and I feel heat gathering in my belly. His teeth scrape against me, and I breathe his name like a prayer, leaning my head against my hands.

I can’t hold out much longer.

My hips move on their own, rocking against him as he sucks and licks, his fingers flexing around my ass.

I’m feeling too much. It’s everything all at once. Everywhere.

His tongue dips in for a split second, and I whine. I feel him smiling again.

“Kim Namjoon, this is–”

And then his tongue is filling me. Thrusting in and out while he continues biting and sucking. The fingers of one large hand slide around to toy with my clit. I can’t stop it. My control shatters, and I press down against him, grinding against his gorgeous face. He grunts again, this time inside me, and I cry out. Two of his fingers find me, and he doesn’t miss a beat, blending the thrusts of his tongue with those of his hand. His teeth scrape over my lips at the same time his fingers roll my clit, and it’s over.

I’m coming in his mouth.

My entire body locks up as I shout his name. I grip the headboard so tightly my knuckles go white while the massive orgasm rips me apart. He doesn’t stop his perfect torture until he’s sucked every drop of pleasure out of my body, at which point he eases me up onto my knees, where he leans up just far enough to place one kiss on each of my thighs and then one last one against my sated lips before pulling me off of him and settling me down on my back in the space next to him.

My heart is racing, and I still haven’t caught my breath. With one hand I reach back to feel the skin of my butt.

“I think you bruised my ass,” I announce softly.

“What?”

He jerks up in the bed and cranes his head to see my backside.

“I’m not sure, but…you were squeezing pretty hard.”

“Oh my God. I didn’t–”

“Don’t apologize,” I cut him off. “I liked it. It was hot.”

He blinks, and sits back a little. “Oh.”

I press my lips together at how cute and sweet he is when my eyes catch on his dick. It’s hard again. Clearly, he enjoys having his mouth on me as much as I do. God, it’s all swollen and heavy and begging to be touched.

My pussy clenches, and I feel myself getting wet again instantly. I need it inside me.

“Joon,” I murmur, my voice sounding strangled.

“Ne?” he looks up at me and then his eyes follow mine down to his mammoth cock.

His eyebrows rise, and he looks back at me.

“See something you like?”

“I see something I want,” I reply softly. “Are you gonna give it to me?”

“Absolutely.”

He grins and reaches for me, sliding his arm around my waist and turning us in the bed so I’m on my back, my head in the pillows, with him hovering over me. I open my legs for him automatically, his hips falling through, his feverish dick grazing the skin of my thigh.

I gasp, my hands reaching up for his shoulders as his head lowers to my ear.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, his lips gliding over the skin of my neck. “I love touching you like this.”

His hands slide from my knees up my thighs, making me whimper as his fingertips graze my swollen lips before moving to my hips and up my sides, over my ribs.

“Joon…”

“I love this…” His mouth kisses a trail over my jaw. “And these.” Both my collarbones. “And…these.”

His large palms slide over my boobs, my nipples puckering against them instantly as I moan. His thumbs drag over the erect points, and my back arches off the bed.

“I love how sensitive they are,” he goes on, his mouth kissing down the line between them. “Especially when I do this.”

His lips close over the peak of the left one, and my body goes rigid. One of my hands grabs a fistful of the sheets, while the other clasps his head to me. I moan, and feel a rush of fluid between my legs, trickling down my thighs. He sucks gently before releasing it only for his tongue to dart out, the tip swirling around my areola before the flat of it laps at me. He leans back, and I start panting as the cool air against the residual heat of his tongue only makes my nipple tighten more.

“And this one.”

He moves to the other side and repeats everything. My heart is pounding when he sits back, and I’m so wet I think there’s probably a wet spot on the sheets, but I’m way too turned on to check.

He reaches for them again, his thumbs aimed for my painfully hard nipples, when I reach out and grab his wrists.

“I’ll come,” I wheeze at him.

“What?” he blinks.

“If you keep playing with my nipples, I’ll come. I’m serious.”

“Really?”

I jerk my head forward in a nod, and his eyes widen.

“Fuck, baby, I knew you were responsive, but I didn’t realize you were that responsive.”

“Just…put your damn dick in me already,” I huff, pouting.

“Oh? You mean this dick?”

Leaning forward, he puts an elbow in the mattress, taking his weight, so his face is hovering inches from mine. He reaches the other down between us and takes himself in his hand, carefully moving the engorged head between my lips.

“Yeah,” I choke out. “That’s the one.”

He presses his lips to my temple as he slowly moves the tip along my dripping slit.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he mumbles against my skin.

I start to tell him to hurry up when he catches on my entrance. I stop breathing as he begins to push in, my fingers on his shoulders digging into his skin.

Oh God. He’s so big. I twist my head to the side and squeeze my eyes shut as my pussy stretches around him.

“Damn, you’re tight,” he groans.

He sinks in another inch, and I bite down on my lip, but a tiny whimper still slips out.

“You okay?” he asks softly, and I turn to look at him.

“Yeah,” I murmur breathlessly. “I’m good.”

“You sounded like you’re in pain.” He frowns. “Do I need to pull out and finger you some? I thought you were wet enough, but–”

“It’s not that.” I shake my head. “Your dick is just so big,” I remind him.

“Oh…yeah. Right.” He smirks, and I see him try to hide it. Dork.

“Is…Is it in all the way?” I try to see, but his giant pecs are in my way.

His smile fades, and he looks back down at me. “There’s a little more. If you can take it.”

“I always take it, Joon,” I remind him softly. “I just need a few minutes to adjust to it.”

He nods and strokes the skin behind my ear with his thumb.

“Tell me when you want more.”

“Okay.” I shut my eyes for a second, before I tap his side. “I’m ready.”

He pushes in the last few inches, and I moan at the feel of him filling me completely. His thick, hard shaft inside me, his balls kissing my lips.

“Still okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Keep going?”

“Yeah, just go slow at first.”

He kisses my lips before he carefully pulls out and slides back in. I hiss at the feel of his turgid, veiny flesh dragging against my sensitive walls. My knees come up on either side of him as he does it again. And again.

“Faster,” I whisper.

His hips rock against me, steadily increasing in speed, my pussy squeezing with every thrust. My arms slide around his shoulders, and I lift my lips to his ear.

“Fuck me, baby.”

“You sure?” he groans.

I lift my legs and curl them around his back. “I’m sure.”

His restraint snaps, and I cry out as he begins pounding into me, my arms automatically locking around his neck. He starts thrusting fast and hard, his balls slapping against me. My body rocks with his rhythm causing my breasts to slide against his pecs, the friction sending tiny bursts of pleasure through my nipples. My moans get louder and longer each time his giant cock enters me.

Suddenly, his free hand slides under my ass, lifting me, enabling me to take more of him.

“Namjoon!” I scream at the feel of it, my head flying back against the pillow.

Oh God. Everything he’s doing is so intense. I feel like my pussy is going to explode. I’m so close to coming I can almost taste it…

“Baby, I’m close,” he grunts.

“Yeah.”

“Need you to come.”

“I…I…”

He drops my ass and his fingers slide around between us, one of them going straight to my clit.

My lungs lock up and my entire body bows off the bed as my orgasm crashes into me. My legs squeeze tight to his hips, my heels digging into his ass, as shocks of pleasure run down my thighs, through my belly, and into my nipples. My pussy is spasming uncontrollably as his thick shaft continues to drive into me.

“You coming?” he asks hoarsely, his hand between my legs still rubbing against me.

“Mmhmm,” I whimper, still in the throes of it, but he must understand me because immediately his hand disappears, going to my hip where he grips me tight as he begins slamming into me even harder than before.

“Joon!” I moan, my orgasm rolling over into a new one.

Suddenly, his thrusts get erratic and he lets out a long groan, his head flying back as his cock jerks, spurting inside me as he comes. When he’s spent, he collapses on top of me, my body still trembling from the ferocity of my own climax.

After my heart stops racing, I drop my legs from around his waist, and run my fingers down his spine.

“I can’t breathe,” I whisper against the skin of my chest.

“Sorry.” He lifts up slowly, and I reach up to slide my fingers into his hair.

“Don’t pull out yet,” I murmur.

“No?”

“I like being full of you,” I whisper. “And I don’t want to give that up yet.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

His fingers run along the edge of my jaw, and I tilt my head to the side.

“Do you feel good?” he asks gruffly, his hand sliding behind my head, his thumb stroking the side of my neck.

“I feel fantastic.”

“Choayo.”

Then he lowers his lips to mine, and I inhale the taste of him. My fingers slide into his hair as I kiss him back. I will never be tired of this, the feeling of his perfect lips moving over mine, his tongue sliding against mine, the taste of him… it’s everything.

He keeps kissing me until we’re both out of breath, and he’s starting to get soft inside me.

“Gotta pull out now,” he mutters.

“Mm.”

I bite my lip as he slides out, my pussy suddenly feeling strange after being so full for so long.

“Are you tired?” He looks down at me as he shifts into the space beside me.

“Not really. Sated for sure, but not sleepy.”

“We can watch something on Netflix if you want.”

“The Good Place?”

“Sounds good.” He grins. “Let me just get a rag to clean you up first.”

“Please and thank you.”

He leans down as he climbs over me to kiss my lips again before exiting the bed and going into the bathroom. He comes back with a warm washcloth and runs it gently between my legs and over my sticky thighs before tossing it in the sink and getting back in bed next to me.

“Give me the remote?” He looks over at me from where he’s fixing his pillows behind his back.

“Here.” I grab the one from my nightstand and hand it to him.

He switches it to his left hand and starts pushing buttons to get to the show while his right arm hooks around my waist and hauls me against his side.

“Miss me already?” I whisper, as I snuggle against him.

“I always miss you when I’m not touching you,” he mumbles without looking at me.

“Oh.” That was sweet.

His hand slides down my back to curl around my ass, squeezing one of my cheeks between his large fingers.

Okay that’s less sweet. But I’m not complaining.

He sets the remote down, and I press my cheek to his chest, sliding my arm around his waist. He clears his throat, and I glance up at him before looking back at the T.V.

He doesn’t move for a whole minute, and I frown and look up at him again.

“Joon, are you okay?”

“Fuck this.”

I blink and stare at him as he suddenly slides out of bed and goes over to the pile of clean clothes he threw on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting, uh…aha. Here.” He throws something at me, and I flinch before catching what appears to be his favorite Kapital blue t-shirt.

“What is this?” I frown.

“A shirt. Put it on.”

“Why?”

“You’re…distracting.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. Standing there naked and sexy with muscles everywhere. And somehow I’m the one who’s distracting?

“Just put it on,” he sighs.

“Okay.” I slip it over my head. “Doesn’t this have matching pants?”

“Yes, but you don’t need those.”

“Oh? My ass isn’t distracting you?”

He immediately grabs the pants off the floor and steps into them.

“They’re for me. So you won’t be distracted.”

I look down at where his dick is barely hidden behind the soft fabric.

“I’m not sure how effective those are going to be.”

He sighs, and I press my lips together.

“Your ass,” he says in a low tone as he climbs back on the bed, “is very distracting, by the way.”

“Then why–”

“But regardless, I still want unrestricted access to it.”

His arm slides around me again as he leans back against his pillows, his giant palm returning to its place on my ass cheek and grabbing a handful.

“Okay,” I murmur, shifting my knee over his thigh. “You should start this episode over because I missed all of it.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

He grabs the remote again and goes back to the beginning while I relax into him, the softness of his shirt and his steady breathing making me feel calm all over.

“Joon,” I look up as he pulls the sheets up to our waists.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” I whisper.

He blinks before bending his neck to kiss my forehead.

“I love you, too, baby.”

Then he slides his free arm around me, and I melt into him a little more before settling in to watch our show.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Translations:

Gwaenchanh-a – okay

Ssibal – fuck

Ne – yes

Choayo - good

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