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#I LOVE MY WHITE SAPPHICS LET ME HAVE THE ANGST
softmaevewiley · a year ago
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it’s a fait accompli 
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sassysaxsolo · 6 months ago
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Hmmm... Addams family AU with Demon Slayer. What about a headcannon of Yuno threatening Rengoku’s father for abusive father to her beloved? No one wouldn't want to get an Addams on their bad side.
Oh, well. About that. Its interesting that you mentioned that. Me and my amazing partner in crime @sapphic-tomlinson , discussed what kind of relationship Yuno and Shinjuro share. Let me tell you, its not a good one. To show you what I mean, here's a non- cannon one shot of the au if Shinjuro got his way
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Deeds of the Father
Demon Slayer/ Addams family Au
Warnings: Sexual assault, attempted non-con, mentions of abuse, name calling, hair pulling, saliva swapping, non consensual touching, slapping, angst, I don't like writing shit like this but my mind won't leave it alone!
Red Kimono or the black kimono?
Red Kimono?
Black Kimono?
Black is what she would traditionally wear…
But this is her first dinner with Kyojuro and his family after all.
“Everything alright my love?” She heard the voice of her lover chip as he leaned his head in through the shoji doors. She turned around to see Kyojuro with a joyful grin on his face. “Hmm.” The girl responded.
She heard footsteps enter the room. Kyojuro wrapped his arms around her waist and he nuzzled his face between shoulder and neck. He left tiny baby kisses which made the younger girl giggle. “Kyojuro!” She squeaked.
“Unhappy darling?” He asked, finally doing it the Aru way.
“Yes dear, I am most unhappy~” She answered.
He let go of her and she turned around with the kimonos in hands. “Kyojuro, Which one shall I wear? Red or black?”
“You look beautiful no matter what you wear!”
“Kyo-”
“But I do think the red one will bring out the homicidal maniac in your eyes!”
“Oh darling!”
She jumped up and clung to his shoulders. She latched her lip to his, he in turn locked his lips with hers. The two kimonos lay on the ground abandoned as both the young lovers went to war with each other using their tongues and lips.
It was always like this when they were together, since their relationship had started, things had been passionate and intimate. His big strong hands grabbed different parts of her body in an attempt to bring her closer to him. While she in turn rooted her finger through his silky blonde hair.
“Oh how I wish you would use those hands of yours to choke me dear~” She commented seductively.
“Maybe some other time.” The Flame Hashira responded
Truth be told, they hadn’t gone too far where Kyojuro was comfortable with causing her pain, even if she wished for it. He read in some of her books that it was something that the dominant party does when the the submissive party forsakes control.
He didn’t really understand it that much, I mean that's why he and Yuno would often ‘study’ together. To learn about all these different kinks to spice up their foreplay. It has been amazing but some things need to be eased into.
He pulled away from the creepy girl to which she whined in disappointment.
“Kyoooojuuuuurooooo……!”
“I’m sorry love, If we continue this, I won’t be able to hold myself back and I won’t be able to accompany Senjuro to the market-”
“Oh but Senjuro’s a big boy! Surely he can do it himself.”
The man chuckled and fixed his girl’s hair. “I will be back soon.”
He walked out the door and she could hear him leave.
She sighed and turned around to face the mirror. Thankfully she hadn’t put her lipstick on yet, how humorous would it have been to see Kyojuro leave the house with red rouge smeared on his face.
She picked up the red kimono and smiled. “Red does bring out the killer in me~!” She hung it up on the door and began to undress. She removed her silk white hoari that had been embroidered with black lace. Spiderwebs and roses. Truly awful.
She removed her black tunic jacket that all demon slayers were required to wear, the kanji for ‘destroy’ embroidered on the back. She folded it up and She had on her white shirt with a gold and emerald Victorian brooch her father obtained on his travels.
She removed her brooch and her shirt till she was left in a corset covering her upper body. Not only did it keep her figure in splendid shape but she found that it did wonders for her breathing. The more restricting it was, the more she could focus. She unlaced it and removed it.
The thump of a footstep could be heard from behind her. She slowly turned around and there he was, Rengoku’s father. “Oh, Well hello, Mr Rengoku.”
He stared at her breasts, her naked breasts that were so plump and round. Her skin had no real scars, no spots or form of acne. The skin was smooth and pale. Like it had never touched the sunlight. But her nipples were so pink and perky from the air around. What pleased him most was that she did not shield her half naked form from him.
“You. Girl. Where are my sons?” He demanded. Taking a sup from his bottle. His face was tinted red but Yuno naturally assumed it was from the alcohol. “Senjuro and Kyojuro are heading toward the market, ingredients for dinner I believe.”
The man entered the room and cocked his eyebrow. His son had brought home a freak. A freak that wants to carry his son’s baby. Although she may behave abnormally, she was still an alluring little minx. She was no Ruka.
Ruka was a good girl. She was sweet, good and did everything she was told. She was innocent and naïve. She did a good job at baring his children. It saddened him greatly when she died. But before him was a desirable little vixen.
She however was nothing like Ruka. From what he heard from Kyojuro who told Senjuro that she came from an eccentric family of terror breathers. She was tough, she was bold and from the undertones Kyojuro tried to hide when explaining what she was like in the bedroom.
She was naughty.
Just before Kyojuro left, he heard her ask his son to choke her. She was a kinky little bitch. One who didn’t know her place in the world. A place where Shinjuro would teach her himself. He walked up to her until he was right in front of her.
Yuno stood still as the former flame Hashira stood in front of her. She couldn’t help but feel unnerved, uncomfortable. She usually enjoyed such feelings when someone with malicious intent approached. But something was off though. This was her boyfriend’s father.
He looked down at her and she gulped. Shinjuro smelled of alcohol and his chin was covered in stubble. His kimono was open and she could see his strong abdomen and sculpted chest. He was indeed strong by mere observation but he was also dangerous.
Kyojuro had warned her about Shinjuro. How after his mother’s death, he was not the same man. How he turned to drink. How he would be gone for days and not come back. How he would sit in his room most days and just read his book. And sometimes, rarely but- beat on him and Senjuro.
Yuno of course was confused, why would he and Senjuro stay with such a man. Kyojuro told her that grief had impacted him greatly. That it doesn’t affect them like it affects her family. Thats to her family’s pact with witchcraft and dark arts, they can still see deceased members of their family.
She literally saw her Grandfather floating around the Hallways last Saturday.
But back to the point at hand. He told her that he wishes to stand by his father, to see him get better and finally connect again.
But all Yuno could feel was intimation and confusion, things that would of once brought her joy. But now its different. The elder Rengoku towered over her, taking a sip of his bottle before slurring.
“You look like a dumb slut.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon..?”
“You already heard me you stupid bitch. Look at you, standing around with your tits out like a whore, waiting for someone to come around a fuck you. My son must have really low standards if he wants a bimbo slut.”
Yuno gawked at this man. How dare he! “I’m not a whore. Kyojuro is the only man I’ve ever been with! Also, I feel no shame with my breasts out, many women from all over the world don’t cover their breasts, why should I?”
Without a moment's notice, the older man took both his thumbs and pointer fingers and pinched both her nipples. She gasped, trying to pull away but the Rengoku elder simply pushed her against the wall and began to feel her tits. They were exquisite, they filled his hands nicely.
Like a nice stress ball.
They were more soft than they looked, very plump and delicious. “Because it gives me the chance to do this.” He growled. She tried pushing him away but she grabbed her by the neck and slammed her head against the wall.
Everything went black for a minute. She opened her eyes and felt extremely faint. Shinjuro was at her breasts, gripping one of breasts tightly in one hand while sucking at her breasts like he was a newborn hungry for milk.
She could feel his teeth lightly bite her nipple while his tongue swirled around its nub. She could feel her underwear dampen but she was not pleased by any of this. Why? Why was Shinjuro doing this? Doesn’t he know that she’s Kyojuro’s girlfriend? Why would he do this to her?!
He pulled away and grunted. “How does my son fuck you by the way? I bet he just sticks his lil’ prick inside and thrusts until he cums, is that it?” She clenched her teeth as tears welled up in her eyes. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want Kyojuro’s father to touch her like this.
“This is how you want my son to treat you, ain’t it?” He asked condescendingly before slapping her in the face. She gasped, feeling her cheek burn. ”Yeah, you like that.” He licked his lips slowly all the while her throat went dry, her eyes watery and a red hand mark stung her face.
She could feel his fingers tighten around her neck dangerously, not in the way her books recommended. Although the feeling of being strangled to death must feel excellent, she did not welcome any of Shinjuro’s unwanted advances.
“You want this you little bitch, You want to get used don’t you?”
He shoved his hand into her pants and felt for her vagina through her dampening underwear. “I knew it, little bimbo slut. You want a baby, doesn’t matter which Rengoku you get it from, am I right? Let me give it to you.”
He let go of her tit in favour of her luscious hair, which he wrapped around his fingers “Let me show you, how daddy gives his little girl a baby~”
He shoved his tongue into her gaping mouth that was gasping for air.
She felt sick. The man tasted like alcohol and he was breathing through his nose onto her. She felt his tongue explore every crevice of her mouth. He was clearly enjoying himself, she could feel his hard on through his fundoshi.
She knew what she had to do next.
She bit down on his tongue and reached her hands into his underwear as well. At first, Shinjuro thought she was replying to his advances in her own way. That was until both her hands with her freshly manicured nails gripped his balls and squeezed as hard as they could.
“G-AGH!!!”
The grown adult roared. Yuno let go of his tongue and family jewels as he tumbled away. She let out a sob, grabbing her clothes before running to the exit. She felt a hand grab her leg, making her trip.
“Let go of me!”
“GET BACK HERE YOU STUPID BITC-”
She used her other foot to stomp him in the face. He flinched back to grab his now bloody nose. She got up and bolted out of the room. She ran out the door and away from the Rengoku residence, she didn’t know where Kyojuro was or where to locate help.
All she knew was she was assaulted by a former Hashira who was able to overpower her in minutes. She needed to get out of there and back to her estate at Demon slayer HQ as fast as she could.
Who knows what that man would do if he caught her.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Kyojuro and Senjuro returned home, with bags full of shopping.
“You think we bought too much Anuie?” The younger brother asked.
“Not at all! Most of this will be for me anyway!” Kyojuro jokes.
They laughed as they made their way inside. It was quiet. Too quiet. But both the brothers shrugged it off and they went inside the residence. They pass by the kitchen, there they find their father, holding a bloody rag to his nose.
“Chichiue! What happened!?” Senjuro enquired, worried about his father. The young boy got close to his father, far too close to Shinjuro’s liking. “Fuck off! I’m fine! I just walked into the door!” He barked, pushing him away. Senjuro dropped both his bags.
The young boy flustered, hastily began picking them up as fast as he could. Kyojuro set the bags down on the table and looked around. Not a noise anywhere from within the residence.
“Father, Do you know where Yuno is?”
The man scoffed, removing the cloth to take a swig of his sake. “Oh yeah, Your bitch took off without a word.”
“What!?” Kyojuro yelled.
He stormed out of the kitchen and went to their shared room. He saw the red kimono on the other door while the black one remained on the ground. On the table, he saw Yuno’s brooch.
Just why would she leave?
.
.
.
.
Go on! Shoot me! I've done the un forgivable. Obviously I don't condone anything that went on in this one shot. I feel like too many people wanna excuse Shinjuro for being a piece of shit to his sons.
I thoroughly believe he would not miss the opportunity to cuckhold Kyojuro if he could. I just wanna amplify how much of an piece of shit he is.
Anyways, take care everyone.
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leftoverenvy · 2 months ago
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Secrets of the West Wing (ch. 20)
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Warnings: smut! (18+)
You can thank @itisdoctortoyousir for a fluffier/smuttier chapter. Originally, you were going to get so much angst.
This is for @sweetprentiss 's spring writing challenge!
Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters
Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🦋
Chapter 20 - Home Sweet Home
June 2026
I had truly convinced myself that my nude scandal would blow over quickly.  That the media would move on to the next headline.  A week and a half went by, and the internet was still just as obsessed with my photos as it had been the first day.  I tried my best not to let it get to me but I was so embarrassed and anxious about it.  It was all I could think about; it prevented me from sleeping.  Comments and headlines echoed in my mind.  The lewd comments especially stuck in my mind.
To get my mind off of everything - the impending war, the letter, the scandal - Emily suggested we take a trip to relax.  I begged her and Aaron to let me go home to Colorado.  Once the idea entered my mind, I couldn't let it go.  I hadn't been home in a year and a half and I was overwhelmingly homesick.  Though our weekend away to Camp David had been nice, it wasn't the weekend away I wanted because it wasn't my space.
Because Aaron was still feeling guilty for allowing whoever it was to take photos of me, he made the trip home happen.  Him and Emily sat down for a few days and planned sweeps of the neighborhood, agent postings on my property and around the neighborhood, and schedules for assignment rotations.  I was too stressed and homesick to care about the imposition on my neighbors.
The flight to DIA was uneventful.  Now that those close to me knew that Emily and I were dating, we allowed ourselves to hold hands on the jet.  I flipped my legs up over her lap while we shared headphones and laughed about my "depressing" music taste.  I could feel the weight leave my shoulders with each mile we flew closer to Colorado.  And in no time at all, we made it home.  It felt so good to be in my true home.
"Wow baby!" Emily exclaimed as soon as she walked in.  "Your house is so beautiful.  Thank you for letting me in your home."
"Emily."  I shook my head.  "Don't you know by now?  You're my home."  She wrapped me in her arms and squeezed tight.  Her face buried in my hair.
She breathed in deeply.  "You're my home too.  You know that, right?  I love you so much."
"Em, can I bounce something off of you?"
"Is it about what's happening in DC?"  I nodded.  "You're supposed to be relaxing.  We came here to get this off your mind," she reminded me.
I broke free from her embrace and sat down on the couch.  Emily followed me and pulled me on her lap.  "I just think these things are related."
"Which things?" she asked.
"The letter and the scandal."  I just had a hunch.  I couldn't put my finger on why though.
"What makes you say that?" Emily inquired, playing with a curl near my ear.
"It just can't be a coincidence.  I spent over a year without scandals!  Or danger."
"I wouldn't go THAT far," she laughed lightly.  She tugged on my hair.  "You've had your fair share of threats, my love."
"But you know what I mean," I continued.  "This has to be related.  Who else would be able to have such private information about me in the letter and have enough access to be able to take that photo?"
"But the sweep turned nothing up.  No cameras," Emily pointed out.
"All the more reason to assume it's related!  It's someone inside the White House," I pointed out.
"Baby only you and I go in the residence..."
"Penelope goes in the residence," I said with a smirk.
"You aren't seriously suggesting Garcia did this, are you?" Emily asked with a raised eyebrow and a soft tickle to my side.
"Of course I'm not.  But I'm just pointing out that people do come in and out of there sometimes."
Emily sat with that for a few moments, both of us getting lost in thought.  She squeezed my thigh.  "No more serious talk," she said with a lighter voice.  "You're supposed to be relaxing."
"Oh?" I dropped my voice.  "How are you going to get me to relax, ma'am?"  I hoped she caught the hint that I wanted to play.  Of course she did.  Emily had a sixth sense for when I was ready for her to fuck me.  Her fingers brushed up and down my thighs.  "Please fuck me until I forget everything else."
"Can I fuck you in the shower?"  Her voice set me on fire.  My mouth went dry, and my head emptied; she was off to a great start.  I simply nodded at her.  She pushed me off her lap and towards the bathroom.  I was only too happy to have her take the lead.
I watched her pull my favorite toy from her suitcase.  My breathing quickened at the sight, excited for her to use it on me.  She quickly pushed me in the bathroom and turned the water on to warm up.  She leaned down and softly pressed her lips to mine.  I was addicted to her lips.  She refused to deepen our kiss, and it drove me crazy.  I needed passion and frenzy.  Instead, Emily was winding me up like a top.
"Emily," I panted as she kissed my neck.  Her hands fell down to my waist, pulling my shirt up and over my head.  My pants fell to the ground soon after.  She was quick to get me naked.  I moved my hands up her chest and around her neck.  She encircled my wrists and held them to my chest.
"Only rule tonight is you may not touch me until I say so."  Fine.  Should be easy enough.  She quickly stripped herself and then shoved me up against the smooth marble of my shower.  The breath left my chest in a gust from the combination of the cold tile against my skin and the force with which she pushed me into the wall.  She attacked any skin she could get her mouth on.
Though she was kissing me, it wasn't enough.  I needed her tongue in my mouth.  I wanted her teeth on my ear.  But the steam in the shower coupled with Emily's hands and mouth felt indescribable.  I moaned when she finally cupped my wet pussy.  Embarrassed by how much louder my moans sounded in the shower, I buried my face in her neck and sucked slightly.
"Ah ah," Emily scolded.  "I said no touching."
"Does that count?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yes," she said simply.  And then she slammed her fingers inside me.
"Em!" I gasped.  But her fingers stilled.  She just held them inside me.  I ground myself further onto her hand - anything to get her deeper.  I shut my eyes tight and rested my head back against the wall.  Please please please.  I chanted it like a mantra.  I was already desperate to cum.  One touch from Emily and I became her little toy.  I tried my hardest to regulate my breathing, but I was so desperate for her to give me more.
The next thing I knew, Emily touched my favorite vibrator to my clit.  I jumped back into the wall at the sudden wave of pleasure.  "Emily, god.  You feel so good."  She started pumping her fingers in me.  Languidly at first, but then she built up speed.
Her fingers curling into me and the strong vibrations had me on the edge within minutes.  And suddenly, I understood Emily's rule for the night.  She knew how badly I would need to cling onto something, but my shower had nothing.  The marble behind me was smooth; there was not soap dish or bar to grab onto.  I tried my hardest to dig my fingers into the marble, but I couldn't get a grip.  And with nothing to ground me, I felt like I might float away.  It was agonizing to be in so much pleasure and not have anything to anchor me.  I fought so hard to keep my knees from buckling.
Before I could stop myself, my fingers, as if they had a mind of their own, dug into Emily's shoulders.  And just as I was about to cum, Emily ripped the toy and her fingers away from me.  I whimpered at the unexpected lack of pleasure.  "Emily - please," I begged.
"I gave you one rule," she said harshly, "And you can't remember it long enough to follow it?"  She was so close, her lips nearly touched mine.  She took a step back, her head cocking to the side.  She looked deep into my eyes and asked, "Did I fuck every last brain cell out of your head?"  Her voice made my stomach quiver and my core throb.  I couldn't respond.  I was desperate to get that vibrator back on my clit and her fingers back inside me.  "Answer me, y/n."  Her voice was demanding.
I took a step towards her, determined to get her hands back on me.  Her hand wrapped around my throat, and she pushed me back into the wall.  She brought her face within centimeters of mine.  I could feel her breath ghost over my lips, but she didn't give me the satisfaction of actually kissing me.  "Let me remind you of the one rule I gave you for tonight since you're apparently too stupid to remember it.  You may touch me only when you have permission."  Her voice was so low and wicked.  It set me on fire.
"Do you understand?" she asked slowly, as if I really were stupid.  I nodded my head, but her hand tightened around my throat.  I closed my eyes and moaned at the butterflies sweeping through my stomach.  "Use your words, Angel.  Do you understand the rule for tonight?"
Her grip loosened and I responded, "Yes ma'am.  I won't touch you until I have permission."
She smiled softly and praised me.  "There's my good girl.  You're so good for me.  Do you want to cum, Angel?"
I whimpered.  "Yes, ma'am."
She slowly traced one finger up and down my slit, re-coating it with my wetness.  "Are you going to be good for me?" she asked softly as she gradually entered me again.
"Mmm fuck, Emily.  Yes, yes I'm going to be good for you."  I attempted to dig my nails in the wall of my shower once again.  I heard her click the vibrator on.  I bit my lip in anticipation.  However, instead of feeling the shock of pleasure on my clit, I felt Emily place the vibrator on my nipples.  A line of pleasure shot down to my core.  I bucked my hips, accidentally bumping into hers.  I flashed my eyes up to hers, scared she was going to stop again.
"Don't worry baby.  I won't stop touching you because of an accident.  That was an accident, right, Princess?"
I nodded furiously, desperate for her to keep going.  "Yes, ma'am.  I remember the rule.  I wouldn't break it on purpose."
She chuckled darkly.  "Oh, Angel.  You and I both know that's not true.  I know just how much of a brat you can be."  My mind flashed to our time in Europe, and I contemplated being a brat just to get Emily to be that rough with me again.  "But you're being so good tonight, aren't you, Angel?" she cooed in my ear, softly tracing the shell with her tongue.  And with her praise, all ideas of disobeying flew out of my head.  That soft voice in my ear while she fucked me hard was unmatched.
I gasped and threw my head back again.  Her lips travelled down my neck, and she moved the vibrator to my clit.  "Yes," I hissed, rocking my hips.  I picked up the pace, on the verge of cumming.  The pleasure was too much.  I had nothing to ground me to Emily.  My wails echoed around the bathroom, and my knees buckled from the pleasure.  Both of her hands occupied, Emily pressed her body into mine tightly - sandwiching me between her and the shower wall.
My hands slapped against the wall, and once I came down, Emily removed her fingers from in me and wrapped her arm around my waist to help support me.  My head flopped to her shoulder.  That orgasm took so much out of me.  "I'm sorry," I whispered.  Even though I had cum, I didn't want to break my mistress's rule.
She turned the water off and helped me dry off.  She gave me several kisses on my forehead and cheeks.  "For what, baby?" her voice now soft.
"I broke your rule again, but I just feel like jello.  Is this okay,  ma'am?"
She chuckled, stroking my cheek.  "Yes, baby.  Come.  Let me tuck you in."  I mumbled against her neck, my feet dragging underneath me.  We crawled into bed, and she immediately pulled me into her, spooning me.  "So did I succeed?" she asked.
"Hmm?" I mumbled, my brain half-dead.
"Did I fuck you until everything else went away?"
"Mmm," I grunted at her.  I wiggled back into her warmth, tugging her arm tighter around me like a blanket.
She laughed lightly.  "I'll take that as a yes."  I hummed at her again, noncommittally.  I felt her lips press into my bare shoulder.
"Love you," I muttered.
"I love you too, baby," she mumbled against my skin.  Her fingers traced the skin on my stomach and down my leg.  Her hand slid back up and cupped my boob.  I hummed in contentment.  Nothing compared to being safe at home in Emily's arms.  I wondered if she'd move here with me once my term was up.  I wondered if she wanted this forever like I did.
Continue to next chapter
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madswonders · a year ago
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A Lesson In Romance #13: One Year Later
Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
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Genre: Angst/Fluff
Warnings: Heavy Season 6 spoilers, mentions of canon-typical violence
Word Count: 1.4k
Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they weather some unfathomable storms.
A/N: Took a little break last week to binge watch Sense8 which was absolutely incredible (thank you @willowrose99!) and now I'm back!!! Friendly reminder: reader has a PhD in psychology!
Masterlist | All chapters here!
---------
Newton's third law of motion states that every action has an equal opposite reaction. If your relationship with Spencer was the catalyst, then it only made sense that chaos of this scale would descend upon the BAU in opposing force.
It all started when JJ left the team. The news about her offer from the Department of Defence took everybody by surprise, and what’s more, she had already rejected the position twice. The fact that she was forced to accept it didn't sit right with anybody, but they put on a brave face and wished her well anyway.
Confronting her absence was hard on everyone. For two weeks, there was an unspoken rule to keep her usual seat on the jet empty. The same way Hotch didn’t hire anyone new for the position, filling the role with Penelope's help. The whole time, they packed her office with files instead of people, as if the void would attract her to come back home.
But days, weeks, two months went by, and everyone learned to accept the loss. The truth is, it was easier to find peace in her departure because you could tell yourselves that it wasn't her choice, that she was leaving for greener pastures, and that you were happy for her and her family.
Not that it changed the fact that she was gone, but that's how things worked out sometimes. She still joined the team for the occasional drink, you and Spencer would pop over to see Henry every other weekend, and life moved on.
Then, his migraines began. You would never forget the morning you woke up to the sound of Spencer groaning in pain and your heart plummeted to the ground. It sank into the floor as the aspirin and hot towels didn't work, as you drove him to the hospital and chased down a nurse, as you found out that there wasn't a name to what he suffered from.
It made you think that the job had messed you up, because you found yourself praying that he’d gotten bruised, or cut, or shot instead. At least those were injuries you could see. At least those were things that could be fixed. But the number of doctor's visits continued to grow, and so did his distress.
When you found out, weeks later, that Spencer had refused a psych eval, it felt like a personal insult. You had your first argument that night; no shouting or violence, but painful words told through gritted teeth while sitting side-by-side without touching.
When his knee bumped against yours in ceasefire and he whispered an invitation to stay the night, you felt the tears rush to your eyes like a storm. He held you until dawn broke, whispering promises that you'd never fight over this again. The next morning, you woke up to the sound of him making an appointment with a psychiatrist.
Dating Spencer Reid was the best thing to happen in your life, but it wasn't without its rain clouds. Some things only appeared after you spent almost-one-year with a person, like the fact that he could be stubborn to a fault, he believed he could overcome everything with knowledge, he had trauma that he'd rather ignore than confront, and he'd sooner push everyone away than ask for help.
Rom-coms always fast-forwarded past these moments; until the two main characters drove off into the sunset or walked down the aisle. They never held each other until the tears dried against their skin, or helped one put on their socks when they couldn’t even summon the energy to get out of bed. That was the reality you knew — always emotional, sometimes messy, and often unpredictable.
When Emily went missing, every trouble in the world seemed to pale in comparison. You could still feel the way Spencer’s arms wrapped around you as you shivered with white hot anger at her stupidity, at her willingness to give it all up without even trying to talk to somebody.
Your anger turned to shock when they discovered the flash bang grenade in the car, and you realised that you didn’t really know your friend at all. It turned to empathy when they uncovered the past she kept secret, and that turned to desperation when they found her, lying there with a stake through her body. The entire time, Spencer stayed by your side, holding your hand.
In hindsight, you should have known that wasn’t the end of the road. Your profiler's instincts had never guided you wrong before, but whatever you expected, they weren't the words "she never made it off the table.”
Everything seemed to crumble in slow motion as Spencer rushed forward to hug the messenger, his lean figure shaking as the tears rolled down his cheeks. Next to you, you heard Derek console Penelope as she wailed, and Hotch turned his head away in grief.
You knew you should be doing something, anything in response. Instead, you found yourself frozen to the spot, staring at a wall as the shock spread through your body like a disease.
That night, you wordlessly drove Spencer back to your apartment; neither of you wanting to be alone, not tonight. The tears finally hit your eyes when he pulled you against his chest, hugging you tighter as you hiccuped and sniffled. You didn't remember falling asleep, but you woke up nestled in the crook of his neck, his body curled around yours protectively.
He started staying over at your place every night after that. Sometimes you’d just hold each other in silence, sometimes you made love, and other times you read books or watched TV together. The cracks never disappeared, but every time you woke up in his arms, you felt it patch over a little bit more.
It didn't take long for the idea to come to mind. It was so obvious, you didn't know why you didn't realise it sooner. Once the thought took root in your head, you couldn't wait another day without telling Spencer about it.
"Are those doughnuts?" His head whipped up, already pausing the movie he was watching on your couch. "Did you get the—"
"Chocolate with sprinkles? What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?" You bit your lip in excitement as you opened the pink box, barely stifling your laughter at the way his eyes bugged out of his head at the sight.
“A whole box of them?!”
“I figured we’d have a reason to celebrate today.” You smiled, watching him pick out the one with the most sprinkles and took a large bite.
“Did something good happen?”
“Well, it’s going to.” You said cryptically, causing him to raise his eyebrows. “I want to talk to you about something.”
He popped the rest of the doughnut into his mouth and placed his hands on your knees, gesturing at you to continue as he struggled to finish chewing. You giggled at the sight of him, but nodded as you asked your question.
"Do you want to move in together?" Your boyfriend's eyes widened as he swallowed, his silence making you nervous.
“We could move into my apartment. I mean, you’ve practically been living here for the past month, and we could get some new cabinets for your books, as long as you don't mind mixing them with my collection—" You reasoned.
"I want to." Spencer interrupted you with a quick kiss. A wide smile began to form on your lips.
"Wait, really?"
"Really. Yes. I want to move into your apartment."
You squealed in surprise as he pulled you into his lap, gasping as his cold fingers slipped under the hem of your t-shirt. He leaned up to connect your lips, and you could taste the chocolate on his tongue.
"You didn't let me finish my pitch. I had a whole list and everything." You protested weakly, bursting into giggles when he began pecking your neck.
"I don't need to. As long as I get to wake up to you every morning, I'm happy." He murmured, leaning back to look at you directly. You smiled dreamily, then your eyes widened suddenly as you realised what this meant.
"We should start planning the move before your rent is up next week, and I'll have to inform my landlady about this, and we'll have to tell the team—" You began, before Spencer quieted you with his lips.
"Can we worry about that tomorrow?" He pouted, inching his fingers higher and higher up your waist, coaxing a whine out of you.
"Fine." You rolled your eyes, smiling.
You laughed as he pulled you down to the couch, realising with excitement that, yet again, you were on the precipice of something new — but this time, you weren't afraid at all.
---------
Tag List:
@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot @queen-flower @agentcarterisgay @totalmess191 @sapphic-prentiss @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @mellowalieneggsknight @kenny-0909 @samanthawilliamspring @akkusdnz @clearglassesman || @averyhotchner @amesandpineapples @willowrose99
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darthmaulification · 7 months ago
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honey and milk | shaak ti x reader
A/N: *breathes in* I LOVE WOMEN SO MUCH!!! 😩😳😖🥵🤲💞💞💞💦💦 
i did it. i wrote the one (1) self indulgent shaak ti soft smut body kink stuff that i wanted to do. i made it sapphic, i made it queer, and i’m finally content and the harvest is good. 🤲😌 finally, something to contribute to the CRIMINAL lack of shaak ti content.
also, i’m so swamped with college schtuff, and most of it’s writing, so please excuse any absolute incoherency this may have, my brain is running off of FUMES, i tell ya. 💀 so i am sorry i’m not spitting out much content! 😖
hope y’all enjoy! 💗
content: sapphic smut (ish), wlw, body worship, exploring each other’s bodies, implied angst bc relationship has to be hidden :(, reader is force sensitive and a jedi, reader is also implied afab but i didn’t use any pronouns/gendered terminology, forbidden love type beat, can y’all tell i like women?, greek mythology references bc i’m a gay, also semi-religious stuff? idk i use divine imagery
word count: 1,899
There is something so pure in touch, in how two beings can close the gap between their bodies and make the infinity of space more tolerable. When it’s Shaak Ti, your adored secret lover, who stands so close that you smell the wine on her lips, touch is even more sacred.
“Will you allow me to remove your robes?” You ask Shaak Ti, safely within the confines of her room, where the three white marble walls and the one glass one concealed by closed, floor-length mahogany curtain protects the images you both must maintain. Outside of this room, Shaak Ti sits on the Council and is regarded as the wisest among them. Outside this room, you are a respected Jedi Master and formidable ally to the Republic’s cause. Inside, behind the closed door, the drawn curtain, and the mellowed atmosphere of Naboo’s evening; you are both simply in love.
“Yes. Always.” Shaak Ti replies and her voice is the heaven all the Maker’s angels sing of, and immediately your fingers reach the mustard yellow hem of her cloak, where you stop briefly to thumb at the stitching on the underside, where you had sewn your name years ago. Shaak Ti hums, hearing the memory of the moment playing in your mind (always open, for her) and smiles, the quietly happy one you adore. When you meet her gaze, her tired dusky eyes soft with love, you smile too, pulling the fabric from her shoulders.
“You are my heart and soul.” You murmur, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as more and more of her brilliant, tiger lily red skin is revealed. The strong curves of her shoulders, the delicate slopes of her biceps, the dip of her elbows, and then the lean muscle of her forearms, all unfurled to your sight like a flower opening it’s petals to the sun. Shaak Ti’s cloak falls to the floor with a shallow thump when you let go of it in favor to grab her wrists, where her skin fades to the pale pink of her hands.
“And you, mine.” Shaak Ti purrs, and the Force coos like a newborn infant, whispering louder when her curious lekku brush their midnight tips against your knuckles. You laugh gently at the sensation letting go of her wrists to bring your hands to the expanse of skin that teases her chest. Placing your palms atop her sternum, you internally bless the rhythmic thumps of her heart before you guide her to turn around.
“Allow me to unlace you, my lady?” You ask in a teasingly lilted tone, one that makes tender mockery of the handmaidens that a Naboo noble had assigned to both of you earlier. Shaak Ti laughs at the poor impression of the workers, and nods her head, montrals twitching in amusement. 
“Of course, my dear.” She speaks, voice thick with amusement and you kiss her bare shoulder, marveling at her soft skin. Your love sighs happily when you plant kisses to the third lek that falls and aligns with her spine, alternating between kissing the creamy white and the midnight blue. Expertly, your fingers undo the laces that hold her bodice tight to her torso, and it goes slack when you untie the final knot.
“Have I told you how much I adore your skin?” You ask as Shaak Ti shimmies her hips to shake her dress from her body, voice almost catching in your throat when the fabric falls past her shapely buttocks. Of course you have, you had the first time she ever got bare before you, when she first entrusted you with the sight of her soft carnelian skin, skin made unique by the swooping white markings on her back, sides, and thighs.
“Have I told you how much I adore yours?” Shaak Ti fires your question back at you as she turns around, and she is a goddess; fully nude and beautiful like Aphrodite arriving at Cyprus in the company of Love himself and all the ocean nymphs. The smile that pulls at your lips grows when Shaak Ti steps out from the pile of her skirts at her feet, giving you a wonderful show of the sway of her hips and the bounce of her breasts.
“You are my everything.” You breathe, sighing when Shaak Ti presses her body to yours, warm and tall, montrals wrapping themselves around you like a second pair of arms. Briefly, she doesn’t respond, too entrenched in the heightened senses given to her by her Togruta biology and the Force to reply with anything salient. Though Shaak Ti collects herself quickly, offering you an almost drunk looking grin before placing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“I do believe you are wearing far too much clothing.” She speaks, her hands finding the edges of your cloak much like yours had earlier. You hum in reply, watching as her delicate yet strong fingers undo the clasp at the front. It’s palpable, the quietness that settles between the both of you, but it allows you to grasp at the Force, pluck it gently like the string of a harp, and have the sensation reverberate to your bones and quiver the air around you.
“Allow me to unwrap you, my gift?” Shaak Ti asks, both saying the question aloud and sending the implication of the thought to your mind. There’s nothing else for you to do but agree with a silent nod. Shaak Ti lets go of your cloak, and it flutters to the floor like a leaf from a tree in autumn. She leans in to you, and you tilt your head to welcome her lips that make a home with yours. As you kiss, Shaak Ti’s peach colored hands start to pull at your unassuming beige robes.
“When I dream of you, you are sunlight.” Shaak Ti whispers against the soft curve of your cheek after she pulls out of the kiss, the Cupid’s bow of her plump upper lip touching your skin. You shiver, and the Force around you does too, and when her palms slide down your shoulders taking your clothing with them, you’re lost to her touch. The heavy, tawny brown fabric falls to the floor, landing in a crumpled crescent at your feet.
“Beloved.” The endearment escapes Shaak Ti’s lips in a breathless sigh, sounding as though she was wounded by the sight of you. Her long fingers dance across the skin of your arms as they travel up to trace your collarbones, and then rest upon your neck. At the beginning, you would have found yourself somewhat bashful at having your bare, uninhibited body stared at so intensely, but now you bask in the stare of your lover’s dark eyes, which have never held judgement, never criticism— Only love.
“You are beautiful.” She says, and you place your hands on the swells of her hips to balance yourself when her traveling fingertips tease the delightfully sensitive parts of you, and you shake your head. You slide your hands up the smooth curves of her waist, thumbs extending to touch the tips of her lekku.
“No, you’re beautiful.” You reply, smiling cheekily when Shaak Ti gasps when one of your hands abandon her waist in favor of wrapping around her lek and stroking the sensitive appendage. In retaliation, she glides her hands down your sides and reaches around your back to squeeze the globes of your ass. You gasp and squeal, body lurching into hers at such a forward action, but the smile on your face doesn’t fade.
“Shaak Ti!” You reprimand with no true conviction behind it, only laughter and the deepest parts of you begging for her to do it again. She grins broadly, the rare one she does when she’s feeling extra playful, and you shiver at the promises it can uphold, the things she’s done with those dusty rose lips and pointed canines.
“Perhaps we are both beautiful.” She concedes, and those lips with all their wonderful memories are on yours again. Shaak Ti kisses you like your precious and you kiss her the same, alternating from dominating her mouth with your tongue, to allowing her to claim full reign of you as well. At some point, with all the fervor and lust clouding your senses, you find yourself in her arms, her large breasts pressed to you, heavy lekku slung over your shoulders. Your thumbs rub circles on her hip bones the way you know she likes, and the Force positively sings.
Somehow the both of you, still so engrossed in each other, manage to find the bed, where you lie side by side, entangled and ensnared by each other. Your legs interlock together, your calf resting above Shaak Ti’s, the meat of her thigh above yours. You moan into the kisses she gives, and she moans into the ones from you, and your hands greedily pull her closer, and her fingers wring in your hair.
The silken sheets below you feel as though you have Shaak Ti giving you her all as you give her yours on a cloud, as if you’re both floating in the air as you swallow all the little noises from the both of you. And it still feels like your amongst the clouds when, only minutes later, your fingers explore the most sacred part of Shaak Ti, the sanctuary she offers you between the apex of her thighs, where you bow your head and drink her nectar until she weeps your name. You give her libation again and again, three times for each word in “I love you”.
The clouds you stay in when she gives you that same worship, when she skillfully collapses the cosmos around you when you dip into orgasmic bliss, when her fingers and mouth are akin to the golden apple gifted to the fairest one by Paris — desired, purposeful, and dangerous. When she brings you over that peak three times all while you grip her montrals and repeat her name like incantation, gasping and moaning and trembling until you know only her name, and the sting of the marks she makes all over your skin.
The Force is still buzzing by the time you’ve both exhausted yourselves, found your bodies pulsing and aching with the aftershocks, but reveling in the afterglow. It may be midnight, or even later, but you will forgive the roughness of waking up in the morning when it means spending the night with the softness of Shaak Ti.
It’s quiet, and she is still wrapped around you as you are her, and there’s something so pure in touch, in making the night one of love and something more, reveling in touches that so rarely happen lest you warrant the suspicious gazes of your fellow Jedi and the consequences to your love should it ever see the light of day.
“I love you.” You murmur half asleep against Shaak Ti’s breast, where you rest your head listening to her heartbeat. She hums, the hand that she’s been rubbing the soreness from you pausing as she too starts to slip beneath the spell of slumber. 
“I love you.” She sighs, and it’s then the Force stills its trembling to a dull flow, like gentle waves rolling to and receding from a shoreline, perhaps the one your goddess walked upon, fully formed, accompanied by Love. You fall asleep to that heartbeat.
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spicydiceyboi · a year ago
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my Happiest Season thoughts
I watched this film right when it premiered at midnight yesterday and just finished my second watch. here are my Thoughts and Hot Takes for anyone who cares to read them lmao:
1) Harper’s parents and Sloane are Garbage Humans. Just generally the types of people I try to avoid at all cost if I can help it. I get that it’s a rom-com and all their shittiness had to be exaggerated/played up for laughs, but maaaan. What assholes lmao. None of them should’ve been forgiven for what they did, and it’s a flaw of the trope/genre/writing that they were in the end. 
2) Jane was the absolute best omfg. She was so funny, delightful, and kind, and NO ONE in that family deserves her. “I am something” genuinely got me, and I was so happy she and John clicked and he published her book in the end !!! We love a Dynamic Duo.
3)  John was also the absolute best. Dan Levy makes every scene he’s in 10x better just for him being in it, and his monologue about coming out Got To Me as well lol. 10/10 character all around.
(now for my most Controversial take lol)
4) This is mainly in response to some tweets and posts I’ve seen just absolutely slamming everything having to do with Harper, but holy hell y’all, I can’t believe this has to be said outright -- she was not abusive?? Like?? At all?? Her not telling Abby about still being in the closet wasn’t ideal, to say the very least, but it’s literally...the entire crux of the movie lol. It’s supposed to be ~uncomfy~ and dramatized for the sake of the plot. It’s supposed to create tension between them. Give her the benefit of the doubt as a character who’s very clearly petrified of coming out to her (awful) family, have some empathy for the position that might put her in that is in no way indicative of how she feels about Abby (or their relationship as a whole, as coming out is a very singular experience for queer folks in our relationships), and move forward. 
Harper going out with her high school friends (and ex-boyfriend), falling into a couple problematic patterns of behavior around those shitty people, and then getting defensive about it with Abby the next morning certainly wasn’t cool, and she definitely said some unsavory things in the midst of their argument -- that’s all true, and it was shitty. But it was very clearly shown that she apologized not even hours later and wanted to talk things out more. That’s...literally fine lmao. Arguments happen in perfectly healthy relationships, especially when emotions are high on both sides and things get prickly. It’s not “abuse” when conflicts happen, it’s just... life. Shit isn’t pretty in relationships all the time, and it’s perfectly okay to show that on screen between two women in love.
Like... say you don’t ship them, say you wanted Abby and Riley to end up together -- that’s all fine. But, completely dismissing Harper and Abby as being in an altogether “toxic” relationship in which Harper is “abusive” towards Abby is completely unfair and presumptive based on this singular, complicated circumstance they ended up in (for the sake of the plot) and the drawn-out tension that followed in an otherwise communicative, affectionate, and healthy relationship. Just because two adult people in a relationship get into an argument and raise their voices does not make their entire relationship Toxic and Abusive. Like it or not, depictions of wlw relationships do not have to be all sunshine and uwus for them to still be healthy and worth shipping or whatever -- especially in the context of a messy coming out narrative that it seems a lot of people are completely dismissing when it comes to understanding how Harper feels. We sapphics deserve just as much nuance and empathy applied to our onscreen counterparts as any other cishet romcom couples receive. 
tl;dr the criticism I’ve seen for Harper as a character has been largely reactionary and unempathetic as hell, and while she’s by NO means a perfect character in any shape or form and deserves to be held to account for the problematic things she pulled (especially for what she did to Riley when they were in high school, which was seriously fucked up), words still mean things ffs. She’s a deeply flawed, problematic character; at the same time, she’s by no means irredeemable or entirely dismissable and I think we need to hold space for the conversation about her characterization to occur without completely shutting various parties down. Some of y’all are v Weird and immature with your lil hot takes. It’s entirely possible to dislike something or disagree with how certain things were handled within a piece of media without becoming completely volatile towards those who perceive/interpret said piece or character differently. That’s what the Discourse is for, as frustrating as it can be lmao.
5) re: Abby and Riley. I get it. Kristen and Aubrey are both hot and had really natural chemistry. It was v cool. But like... Abby v clearly wasn’t interested in starting anything with a perfect stranger -- her gf’s high school ex, no less. The bar scene was cute, sure, but they just don’t really know each other at all outside of bonding over Harper ??? I really enjoyed their dynamic and friendship though!! Normalize Lesbian Friendships In Film lmao.
6) My defense of Harper as a character aside, I really do think she and Abby could’ve used one more really cute lil scene to establish/sell their relationship as THE core ship of the film. It didn’t take me out of the film or anything, but I just think it would’ve been nice given all the angst we got. I’m not mad at it though, and I really appreciated the subtle details of the eye-contact and little affectionate gestures between the two of them in scenes with Harper’s family. I always appreciate those little deets. 
7) Don’t even get me started on the politics of this film from any sort of identarian standpoint lmao. I knew I was going to have to turn my ~socialist~ brain off for an hour and 45 min to get through it in that sense, and it was about what I expected in that regard re: race, gender, heteronormativity, class, etc. All I’ll say is, it was par for the course for the white neolib Hollywood establishment and... well. You know lmao.  
All in all, I enjoyed the film! While I know there were some deeply problematic narratives and characterizations that took place, it wasn’t the absolute worst film ever that some folks are making it out to be lmao, and I took it for what it was and moved on. It’s no Handmaiden or Portrait of a Lady on Fire lmao, but it didn’t really set out to be anything other than it was, and that’s okay. 
Let’s hope this sets the precedent for us to get more romcoms/holiday movies/films in general with wlw couples as the main romance -- and maybe next time it won’t be a coming out story about two cis white lesbians !!! One can only hope lmao.
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i-love-side-characters · a year ago
Text
Do You See It Differently?
Pairing: Various Relationships
Characters: Various Keeper of the Lost Cities Characters, One-Time OCs
Genre: Angst
Summary:
“Once you’ve seen there is another perspective, you can never not see that there’s another point of view.”
― Ellen Langer
TW: Death, Character Death, Injuries, Blood, Disease Mention
Word Count: 1.8k words (1,817)
Additional Notes:
You should be proud of me, this is all canon!
Or at least based on canon events
Okay you shouldn't have expected so much of me
This is terrible i am so sorry
no beta we die like nixx's happiness when me and pyro are coming up with angst
Tag List: Let me know if you want to be added/removed!
@bronte-deserves-better @councillor-bronte-is-best-boy @cadence-talle @an-absolute-travesty @bookwyrminspiration​ @keefeinnit @mallowmeltz​ @ultralazycreatorfan @everyonehasthoughts @mistythegenderqueermess @imaramennoodle @rainbowtay-11 @we-need-more-empathy @catboyruy @we-wont-dissapear @we-have-no-bananas-today @loverofallthingssmart @a-lonely-tatertot @thesandsofdawn @enbies-and-felonies @fire-sapphics @jadenightthewriter @alabestrine @sunlight-in-a-bottle​ @damischs @pyrokinetic-loser @pyrarayn @towishuponashootingstar
Read below the cut!
you've read the stories.
the ones with the obstacles beyond compare.
the true loves and dramatic battles.
the heroes, valiantly fighting against evil.
they're inspiring tales, to be sure.
but have you read the other stories?
the ones about the villains?
about the families?
about the kings?
about the children caught in war?
those, my dear, are the stories that truly matter.
they are the stories that go untold.
they live and die with them.
and that, is the true tragedy in this tale.
•·················•·················••·················•·················••·················•·················•
"careful!"
her lips twisted into a smirk, dark eyes tracking her daughter sprinting through the city.
"brilla! come back here!"
the little girl laughed, turning smoothly and running back into the arms of her mother. "mommy, did you see how fast i was?"
"yes darling, you were so fast!"
she squealed, wriggling out of her arms, running back into the crowded market.
"ms. sakh?"
she spun around, squinting at the amour-clad guard. the queen seal glowed brightly, it's shimmer enhanced by the golden city. "yes?"
"if you could come with me." his voice stayed even, solid. a queensguard through and through.
she didn't move, twisting to see her daughter playing in the peace fountain. two guards shadowed her, not interrupting, but keeping a trained eye on the little girl. "what's wrong? what happen?"
the queensguard shook his head. "the queen needs to see you, ma'am." he reached out, gently steering her towards the glittering palace.
she glared at him, wrenching her arm away. "tell me what's going on."
his face darkened, eyes filled with sadness. "i'm so sorry to tell you this, ma'am. but at 4:30 today, your wife, brielle sakh, was killed on duty at an elven residence in the lost cities."
the woman's eyes widened, her basket falling to the floor in a dull thud. tears spilled over her cheeks as she stepped back, shaking her head. "no. not brielle―"
"i'm so sorry." he said, reached out again, gently guiding her toward the palace. "let's go."
it seemed darker somehow. the palace. the city. it no longer shimmered bright and gold. the shadows shifted and grew, twisting darker and darker, until they lunged forward and swallowed her whole.
•·················•·················••·················•·················••·················•·················•
he stepped out onto the stone balcony, glaring out over the city.
he could feel every pulse in his body, the tattoos scrawled across his head. they shouldn't carry weight. the elder kings decided that they didn't want the weight of a crown on their heads. that's why the tattoos became what they were.
apparently their plan didn't work.
he could feel the weight of every black swirl, every black scar.
and he could see them too.
he had already visited the hospital. he watched the shamans cover another body. children's limbs mangled, mothers and fathers crying. soldiers standing stiff, black eyes watching every body leave the room and desperately trying to convince themselves that they didn't know who was underneath the white sheet.
and now he was watching hundreds, thousands of black bodies digging at the rubble, each one helping the other rebuild.
"dimitar."
the queen walked over to him, placing a rough hand on his shoulder. "you need to sleep."
"no, i don't." he twisted away from her, feet pounding down the stone steps. the cool wind thrashed his cloak back. mud squelched under his feet, sharp bits of debris cutting into his gray skin.
they bowed as he walked by, some clapping their arms to their chest, but all looking with black, unfathomable eyes. he cut through the crowd, stopping in front of their leader. "romhil― ro."
"father."
he nodded, drawing himself tall. "get back to work."
he bent over, ignoring the ache in his back as he moved the debris. he was with his people now, not with the others. and it was a sight to see. a king, shoulder to shoulder with a peasant.
and only one thought caught the king's mind.
this can't go on.
•·················•·················••·················•·················••·················•·················•
the pages felt heavy. rough.
it was his favourite book. he had memorized it's every detail. the roughness of the cover, worn after years of use. the last few pages, lighter than the others due to a lack of paper. the gold lettering, smudged where his the oils on his skin had touched. and it was the book itself too. the way the words flowed, like music, ensnaring you and pulling you in further.
he smiled and stroked the cover, noting the ink stains from over a thousand years ago. his sister had done that. he'd yelled at her for weeks.
he stood up, nearly tripping over the stack of scrolls tossed on the carpet, wincing as the document's edge tore clean off. he'd have to get it repaired.
dust flew in the air, the delicate rolls dusted in gray. they had been sitting there for ages. maybe it was time to read one again.
he reached down, shaking off the dust and settling back in the armchair, twisting himself until the lumpy chair was perfectly supporting his body.
and then he was thrown into the story again, grabbing him and pulling him in closer, until there was no world, just him and his words.
the sun rose and fell, and rose again, and fell, and time didn't matter anymore because he was safe.
and then he wasn't.
a sharp knock sounded at his door, making him flinch and drop the newest tome. it slammed onto the ground, knocking over empty cups and crushing papers.
"uh― i'm― i'm coming! just uh― give me a minute!" he yelled, hands shaking as he stacked the books as best he could. "coming! i'm―" he gulped, hurrying to the door. "i'm here, i'm― bronte?"
"fallon." the councillor said, trying to smile. "may i come in?"
"no. i mean― it's quite a mess― you probably shouldn't. councillor."
bronte nodded, his jeweled crown glowing dimly in the evening sun.
"what do you want, bronte?" he sighed, desperately trying to comb his hair back.
he sighed, running a hand down his face. "did you know about luzia, fallon?"
"what about luzia?"
"that she's been committing treasonous acts that violate several treaties and―" he hesitated, and then, much more softly. "and could put her in exile?"
his soft, dark eyes met piercing blue ones. even though the councillor was younger, he still cowed the other. he stumbled back, slamming the door closed, turning back inside. his dark eyes scanned over the room, the piles of papers, the overturned mugs, the drawn curtains, the mess, the chaos.
how the mighty have fallen.
•·················•·················••·················•·················••·················•·················•
it was a sharp sound, echoing off the walls. she smirked, throwing another stone towards the ground. and then a deeper echo, the echo of footsteps over the hard stone.
she tilted her head, her dark hair falling over her pale face.
two footsteps. one ridged and firm, the steps of a guard trained from birth to kill. the other was uneven, accompanied by the soft clink of chains.
she shook her head, shoving the sound out her mind.
but it came back.
the footsteps pounded into her brain, her mind analyzing each shift in the pattern, a click of a chain at a different time, a step falling a second too late. a breath too heavy. a rustle of armour.
a low hiss escaped her throat, pale skin breaking as she clawed at her arms. she closed her eyes, but it was still bright, too bright, loud, too loud.
and then the smell. the sweaty, musty odor, mixed with the sharp smell of blood. but something else―something different―
she tilted her head back, lips curving into a lazy smirk. the fragrance wafted inside, the salty smell of the sea, the scent of the wind. outside.
the guard appears first. black eyes, a controlled stare. near seven feet tall. deadly weapons at his side. scars ripple down his face, down his neck, two inches wide and dark against his scaly skin.
he barely paid her any attention, turning around to motion to the others. back was the click of the chains. two more guard appeared in the door, with someone else between them.
someone new.
she watched them carefully chain him to the lumenite wall. they didn't know what they had just done. what they had just started. they just stalked away, leaving just the two of them.
their eyes met. his lips curved into a smirk, nodding at her from his own little cell. it was hard to keep herself from smiling. she had grown old here. lived and died here. seen nobody come in and nobody go out.
it seemed that would change.
•·················•·················••·················•·················••·················•·················•
she gasped for air, bolting up in bed. this wasn't new. another nightmare, more fires, more sugary smells. another night without them here.
small tears trickled down her cheeks, landing on the silky sheets.
it had been a weeks.
she threw off the covers, crawling out of the bed, letting her feet sink into the soft carpet. light streamed into the dark bedroom, moving gracefully with the watery sky. the roads of the city were empty now. everyone was asleep.
"except you." she muttered, glaring at the city.
she couldn't say she hated it here. it was gorgeous, not to mention luxurious, and the people here couldn't be nicer. but it wasn't right.
she hummed under her breath, sliding down to the floor, smiling as a large ball of fur slunk over to sit on her lap.
"hey there marty." she whispered, stroking his fur. "i bet you miss home, don't ya? they don't have temptation treats over here."
he blinked his large, dark eyes at her, meowing softly.
"yeah, it's weird for me too. but we're safe." she said, sending a commanding glare the cat's way. "sophie's got us covered, alright?"
another soft meow pierced the silence.
"mhm. i completely agree. she is definitely in love with that teal-eye guy."
the lights flicked off outside, the sounds of shuffling feet echoing through the room.
she nodded, giving the animal a small kiss. "yeah, it's very interesting. and don't be scared. mom and dad are fine, i promise."
now the lights in the streets were turning off, bathing the city in a blanket of darkness. "they'll be fine."
she climbed back into the bed, pulling the sheets tightly around her. shadows danced over the gray-purple walls, fading into the darkness of the night.
she hadn't made a wish like this since she was 6. her grandma, and something called cancer. all she had known back then was that it killed people. that was 7 years ago. and now she was wishing again.
hopefully this time it would work.
•·················•·················••·················•·················••·················•·················•
so now, what do you think, my dear?
do you still think the king is a monster?
that the recluse does not care?
that the child is safe?
do you see the others in this tale?
do you see it differently?
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a-very-fond-farewell · a year ago
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aside from the fact that I lose my goddamn mind every time I think of the “save it/you’re my person” scene and that I do, in fact, love shl with all my wretched goblin heart despite its flaws and the last five episodes or so... what if.
what if, instead of a Romeo&Juliet situation, we had an Achilles&Patroclus situation??
(I’m obviously pretending that scenario is not another tragedy in itself too, bc science)
let me elaborate:
ZZS knows WKX and his every little quirk, habit and move;
ZZS happens to be a master of disguise, as we know;
ZZS takes WKS’s place at the siege (which can be a somewhat satisfying outcome for the foreshadowing of ep.13);
WKX was forced to sleep through it all thanks to a slow but inevitable drug concocted by Wu Xi’s and that ZZS gave WKX before his departure for ghost valley (ZZS also asked GX and CWN to follow WKX secretly to keep him safe while unconscious, but didn’t explain anything else to them, not wanting them to meddle or impulsively participate in the siege and risk their lives);
(WKX had already planned with ZCL for the kid to fake-kill him on the cliff, but ZZS doesn’t know this bc it happened when he was too busy being sexy and bloody while he was captured in Jin);
(WKX had already obtained YBY’s permission to stage the whole thing at the cliff, but ZZS doesn’t know this either for the reasons stated above);
(WKX agrees to help WX while they talk in ghost valley, but soon after his talk with auntie LFM he falls asleep);
YBY knows he is not fighting against WKX but understands why ZZS is doing this and keeps going to keep the pretense up;
ZCL doesn’t understand the person in front of him is ZZS (only bc ZZS imitates WKX so well) and fake-kills him anyway;
ZZS (as WKX) falls down the cliff;
WKX wakes up and discovers he is officially considered to be dead;
WKX is technically free to leave with ZZS if he so wishes, but ZZS is nowhere to be found and he panics;
ZZS had planned to give WKX a way out from jianghu without any more vengeance nor bloodshed and was even willing to die for him by falling down the cliff if that were the case, but he had discovered ZCL’s dart was a fake one and he takes some time recuperating after the fall and hides somewhere;
while everyone is looking for the body and the key, WKX and GX (along with CWN and ZCL) look for ZZS in a race against time;
XW thinks WKX has bolted and didn’t keep his word, so he gives up on the whole plan to see his adoptive father rise just to get him to lose everything in the end, BUT he has already found the witness DK and keeps him around just in case (???);
ZJ gets impatient and somewhat reveals his true colors while they search for a body + XW finally sees through his adoptive father’s bullshit when ZJ publicly denies their affiliation and walks away** from him after revealing he has seen the poisoned weapon used against RX + he brings out the witness DK and reveals he was the one drugging him to become a puppet to frame GC;
YBY confronts ZJ and upholds justice (especially for RX’s death) as he should and captures him in ghost valley;
YBY closes ghost valley himself and orders hot lady LFM to keep an eye on the remaining ghosts to make them atone;
LFM has a chance to be the one keeping ZJ captive and make him pay for what he had done to her and her family (and maybe she cuts his silver tongue out and sends it to XW and maybe he is nice enough to cure her illness for the trouble);
ZCL and WKX (and best girl GXL!) can see themselves vindicated by the knowledge ZJ will rot in the ghost valley with no possibility of ever hoard enough power for himself with those weakened martial arts of his;
WKX finds a bloody ZZS and y’all can have all the hurt/comfort you can possibly want while these two idiots comes to term with the fact that they are two while ass fucking liars who deserve each other for the rest of their mortal lives;
GX can marry her CWN + his master will not interfere bc YBY saw through his greed for power and put him in his fucking place;
**since LQQ doesn’t need to expose ZJ’s true colors for scorpion boy XW, she is not gifted with the recipe for mengpo tea, she leaves YQF to serve XW (or to die, depends on if XW will feel the need to keep him around and feed him the antidote) to either live what little time she (allegedly) has with LFM or she tags along WKX and finds herself in the new Four Seasons Manor and somehow Wu Xi saves her life before she can go back to ghost valley and live a very long and fulfilling life with LFM as sapphics should;
the author of this post is a huge idiot and is well aware this is full of plot holes like a piece of Swiss cheese but damn it if it ain’t a delicious cheese.
PROS:
no immortality (despite how much I love the ending of shl, I know many were hoping for a tyk type of ending so, here’s my solution);
we have a wedding with no bloodshed;
we have sapphics (and a potential new pairing for WX if he keeps insisting on being on his “older men agenda”);
we still have angst with the race-against-time to find ZZS;
the viewer/reader would still be none the wiser if the siege is seen through (what we believe to be) WKX’s pov... but there’s no ZZS in sight either and we then see fake!WKX fall down the cliff only to see real!WKX wake up in ghost valley soon afterwards (and we would still be left bamboozled and in the dark until we understand what ZZS has actually done to give WKX a second chance at life as a normal person).
CONS:
no immortality;
NO “SAVE IT/YOU ARE MY PERSON” SCENE (just to save which I debated against making this very post, just so you know);
NO BELLY HUG SCENE WITH SOFT LAOPO (I deserve to be chased by dogs for this);
no eating ice and snow scene (skin me alive ;^;);
no white-haired WKX;
no sexy dual cultivation;
no armory no mountain no party;
no post-coital, afterglow, flirting, sparring scene with tender gazing on the mountain;
no sweet child NianXiang (kill me for this ;-;)
alternatively:
They discuss like actual soulmates and come up with the plan to fake WKX and ZZS’s death so they can fuck off into the sunset together with their children and live somewhere nice with no jianghu to worry about bc YBY does his best to save them and put ZJ in his place.
~fin.
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incandescent-eden · 2 years ago
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STORY MASTERLIST
A (not so) comprehensive list of all the things I write about, all of which are subject to change at any given time because I do a lot of refactoring!
LOOOOONG POST INCOMING I write... a LOT, and I have... MANY projects :) Feel free to ask me about any of them! :)
With love <3 Continue reading below the cutoff if you want to know the basic rundown of my worlds and works!
ANGELVERSE:
This universe encompasses all of the angels and demons I like to focus on. Works in the angelverse will likely be about Faraday (formerly known as Efrem), a demon lieutenant, Ezekiel, a young angel, the archangel Uriel, or angel Raguel / angel Sophia (their stories are intertwined).
The main concept I have on Angelverse surrounds Faraday, who has grown into himself as a demon and made something of himself. He finds it impossible to shake who he was before. The question comes up during an important meeting between Heaven and Hell of whether he is truly Faraday or Efrem, his own self that he has shakily become, or the self he inherited from being his father’s son. There’s also brotherly angst between Faraday and Ezekiel, who refuses to let go of the past. (If you look at my old works tagged ‘ezekiel,’ you’ll see Ezekiel used to be a part of Faraday/his ‘ideal’ self, which is why new Ezekiel, separate from Faraday, reads so differently.)
The Raguel and Sophia stories are also closely linked to characters Andromeda and possibly Zachariah. Andromeda’s father runs a cult and has captured an angel in his attic. When Andromeda finds the angel (Sophia), her otherwise “normal” life is thrown into disarray as she starts unraveling threads about her father’s actions as a cult leader. If Zachariah is to be a part of it, he would be living with Andromeda’s family, having run away from his past.
Prominent characters in Angelverse include: Faraday, Uriel, Ezekiel, Stena, Michael, Ramiel, Raguel, Sophia, Zachariah, Ambriel, Ruhiel, Gabriel, Raphael, Luci, Bee, Sasha, Saoirse, and Heather. With the exception of Sophia, all names ending with “el” are angels, while the rest are demons. Also, I say prominent, but like half of these characters are from a bygone era (2018 when I first created them).
TW/CW for heavy religious (Christian) imagery, emotional abuse, violence, transphobia mentions and cult talk. Additional content warning because I tend to write angels as LGBT, but I recognize that some people are not comfortable with this affiliation with Christianity.
LUXTRURA (NOTE: LUXTRURA IS ON PERMANENT HIATUS):
Luxtrura is the name of a fictional country in ye olde European fantasy style, and I haven’t thought of a title for the WIP yet, so I mainly tag it ‘luxtrura’ or ‘luxtruran trio.’ This WIP is a fantasy / dystopian / political intrigue about an uprising in the kingdom of Luxtrura run by an inexperienced king and corrupt nobles all vying for the crown.
Luxtrura (at the current moment) follows the life of His Majesty Devron Fharren, the Eighth Fharren King, who inherited the crown by kingdom decrees at the age of 21. Unlike most kings, Devron has only had seven years of proper royal tutelage on statecraft, having only been named heir to the throne when he was 14. He soon finds he has inherited a kingdom that has been deeply wounded, that his people hate him, and that he has few allies among his own country’s nobles, his friends, and neighboring royalty. Revolution is brewing, and he has a choice to make: to claim his birthright or to help his people.
Prominent characters include: Devron Fharren, Eden Barison, Mili Starr, Plumeria Rwalke, Lilia Tao, Rassaya Tao, Andrea (a mysterious stranger who gives only her first name), Jakob Fiyre, Cordelia Fiyre, Liseline Fiyre, Sonja, and Orange and Rouse (the dragons).
TW/CW for violence, sexual assault mentions, transphobia mentions, political talk, blatant classism, and death.
GLOWING EYES:
A “what-if” scenario where Victor Frankenstein and Dorian Gray had met and become friends and also Frankenstein wasn’t a man and was named Viola and was not a pleb weakling like Victor. Also Dorian Gray is fat because I said so.
This story reimagines the Frankenstein and Dorian Gray cast as students in their final year of the prestigious University of Ingolstadt, with Frankenstein having returned from a year off during which she was suspended for [redacted] reasons. The vibe we’re going for is dark academia, but I don’t think they ever actually do any learning?
Prominent characters include: Viola Frankenstein, Dorian Gray, Elizabeth Lavenza, Henry Clerval, Basil Hallward, Deukalion, and special shoutout to Justine Moritz and Sibyl Vane because I didn’t want to put them in, but they definitely deserved better in the source material.
TW/CW for death, violence, toxic/obsessive relationships, grave-robbing, body part mentions (eyes, limbs, etc), and mentions of the Devil. Basically, if it was a concerning part of either the Frankenstein or Dorian Gray stories, it will still be concerning.
Fun fact, there is a Glowing Eyes playlist that I am NOT too ashamed to share with the public! :D
HELEN OF LEGEND:
A retelling of the Helen of Sparta story that explores Helen’s thoughts and motivations. Who was the woman behind the face that launched a thousand ships? And did she ever even want those ships to be launched? (Spoiler alert: the answer is no.)
Helen of Legend gets pretty heavy handed because I get really mad about people lauding the Greeks as the end all be all of culture, and I’m still really mad about how people dress Millie Bobby Brown up like she’s 25-40, so make of that what you will.
On the bright side, Helen of Legend is a sapphic retelling!
Prominent characters include: Helen, Leda, Menelaus, Clytemnestra, Penelope, Theseus, Aphrodite, Paris, Cassandra, Hector, and Hecuba.
TW/CW for misogyny, implied past sexual assault, sexual assault mentions, mentions of spousal and emotional abuse, people being generally creepy about bodies, people being creepy toward children (Theseus), cities burning, subtle classism, and death.
OF DANCERS AND DREAMERS:
A musical about Anne-Marie, a non-binary Vietnamese lesbian born into a wealthy family, and Jules, a Tunisian baker’s daughter who is working her way into the Paris ballet. Anne-Marie wants to be a designer, but their mother, Mme Trinh, has other plans. The year is 1884, and it was hard for the Trinh family, as immigrants, to establish their foothold in society, and Mme Trinh will not have her child throw away the family’s hard work. One day, while at the ballet, Anne-Marie becomes smitten with Jules, a ballerina with the most dazzling smile. They find solace in sharing their passions with one another and become friends, each eventually realizing they have fallen for the other in a time that is unfriendly to both of them.
Prominent characters include: Anne-Marie, Jules, Victor, Mme Trinh, and Amandine.
TW/CW for subtle homophobia, classism, mental illness, and parental guilt tripping/emotional toxicity.
THE LYRE EFFECT:
A play about life after death, and what it means to live and love. This play follows Patroclus upon his death, desperate to return to Achilles. He meets the reluctant Eurydice, embittered by decades alone in limbo halfway between life and death. Together, they almost throw someone off a boat (is it really murder if they’re already dead?) and have a chance to tell their stories, stepping out from the shadows of their more famous lovers.
I took a lot of liberties with this, so Orpheus is a woman (wlw OrphEurydice), and I would like for both Achilles and Patroclus to be played by trans men, and for all of the characters to be played by non-white actors.
Prominent characters include: Patroclus, Eurydice, Achilles, Orpheus, Apollo, Hades, Charon
TW/CW for talk about death
SPEED ROUND (OR: THINGS I WRITE ABOUT THAT AREN’T AS AMBITIOUS JUST YET/AT THE CURRENT MOMENT):
Here Lies Forever - a story focusing around two young people, Medb Flaherty and Virgil Sutherland, growing up at an orphanage amid war, abandonment, and sickness. Medb is a blind writer who dreams of traveling the world with Virgil, her best friend since their teen years, but when the war strikes too close to home, Virgil leaves Medb and their peaceful student life behind to join the army. Unwilling to let go, and recognizing the pain Virgil is in, Medb takes it upon herself to save Virgil, the both of them haunted by the ghosts of their pasts.
On the Corner of Maple Street - short stories about the lives of Sarah and Evangeline together, two lesbian women who met when Sarah was 28 and Evangeline was 31. Sarah was a toy maker and Evangeline was an actress. They have a son named Oliver, who’s now in his forties, and they’re grandmas to all the neighborhood children. They live on the corner of Maple Street :)
Partager Un Reve - short stories, often romantic, about two circus performers, Alyona Ledbedeva (who does aerial silks) and Li Mey Ri (an acrobat). They’re cute together, there’s not really much to say here.
Claire  - there’s a really old novelette floating around on my account and you can find it if you search Claire, but like it’s OLD. An 18th century French lady who contracted TB and died but was brought back by a necromancer named Cecil (Cecil is the character of my friend @sinnabon-cosplay !) and is now immortal. Fun times with Claire and Anthony usually involve lamenting the fact that they’re stuck as teenagers.
Miscellaneous - miscellaneous demon and monster characters like Alexander, Felicity (both vampires), Sparrow (succubus/Heather’s youngest sister), Zephyr (fae, husband of Spar), Lycan (she’s... a werewolf), and so on. Not really connected to a plot
Performing Possumhood - uh this was a play I wrote with my friend @holdingonmyheartlikeahandgrenade for a 24 hour play festival, it’s about a guy named Thomas who becomes herald for a kingdom and then on his first day of work, the king dies, and his son becomes king, except the new king??? is a possum???? and like no one does anything about it, so Thomas just feels like he’s going insane, poor guy (also everyone else is named Thomas except the king, whose name is His Majesty King Parthur Pencildragon of Alpacalot)
Nordic questing team - I’ve literally written nothing for these fools, but I’m tempted to make it into a dnd campaign! The characters I have are Val (short for Valnotte) (she’s a nokke), Hanne (human poison seller who wears an eyepatch just because), Fur (short for Bjorgolfur, he’s a werewolf who left his pack because he was too good at being alpha wolf but he didn’t want to be alpha, he wanted to press flowers and have a cute little cottage by a cliffside with a pretty garden damn it), and Bo (full name: Boscobel Blue, he’s a cow boy. Literally. He has cow ears and a big septum piercing and a tail. Also he’s a shepherd. His sheep are carnivorous :))) Make of that what you will)
Alice x Secret Garden - another play but where Alice Liddell and Mary Lennox are 18 years old and find themselves in Wonderland, after Mary is jaded from the end of WW1 and is frustrated at her friend Dickon’s marriage proposal, and Alice runs away, trying to retain her childhood as best she can
Retellings - I do myth and fairy tale and folk retellings! :) You can search ‘Tithonia’ for my sleeping beauty retelling, and I wrote Orpheus and Eurydice a while back. Still working my way through Icarus :’) Also ‘Mermaids Can’t See’ is a retelling of the classic mermaid story but written as a ??? field guide? journal entry? notes about mermaids?
If there’s a work you want specifically about a character, I always tag characters, and I also will tag character introductions and pictures/references of them as “beanpuff char[]”!
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lostlastsforever756 · 5 years ago
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I got tagged by @gaycoyotes thanks friend
1. coke or pepsi? 
idk man probably coke, but like we all know i’m a root beer bitch, when I actually decide to drink soda, which i don’t really do
2. disney or dreamworks? 
 shit man idk both probs
3. coffee or tea? 
 ya girl really doesn’t like coffee or tea. I’m more of a apple cider or hot chocolate type of girl.
4. books or movies? 
 I like them both
5. windows or mac? 
 windows fucking always, apple pisses me off so much oh my god
6. dc or marvel? 
 Marvel, cuz they got Cap. and Agent Carter
7. xbox or playstation? 
 xbox
8. dragon age or mass effect? 
idk either of these
9. night owl or early bird? 
probably early bird, I function better in the morning
10. cards or chess? 
cards
11. chocolate or vanilla?
vanilla, like me, boring af
12. vans or converse? 
vans I guess idk
13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar? 
 i feel like i’ve heard of Cadash, but i’m not sure what it is, and I don’t know any of the other ones oops
14. fluff or angst? 
 why would i want to choose one or the other when good angst can eventually lead into nice fluff???
15. beach or forest? 
beach for the summer, forest for the winter, cuz fuck ticks
16. dogs or cats? 
boooooth
17. clear skies or rain?
 um by clear skies you mean just straight up sun with no clouds? cuz fuck that if so, i don’t wanna get burned. rain.
18. cooking or eating out? 
cooking, I hate going out.
19. spicy food or mild food? 
mild, cuz im a mayonnaise white ass person
20. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas? 
christmas, although both are no longer fun when you’re my age
21. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot? 
a little too cold, cuz then I wouldn’t feel dehydrated all the time
22. if you could have a superpower what would it be? 
shapeshifting probably.
23. animation or live action? 
well the live action scooby doo is my life, soooo
24. paragon or renegade?
idk what this is.
25. baths or showers? 
shower
26. team cap or team ironman? 
CAAAAPPPPP
27. fantasy or sci-fi? 
 sci-fi, cuz im like wow this could actually happen
28. do you have three or four favorite quotes, if so what are they? 
1. “My advice to you is this, please don’t ever sit in your room and lock yourself away because you don’t think you’re good enough.” (Catherine Tate, my mama)
2. “It’s okay to be however we are. It’s okay to be human.” (Gillian Anderson, probably also written in We somewhere, so like i guess I can credit Jennifer Nadel too)
3. “Same old street, just a different name. Same old house, just the family’s changed.” (Lifehouse, “Walking Away”)
29. youtube or netflix? 
 I was going to say netflix until i remembered that it took down the x files and I remembered that it betrayed me, so youtube.
30. harry potter or percy jackson? 
percy jackson
31. when do you feel accomplished? 
when people compliment me, when i finish books, when i do my homework 2 days earlier than i normally would, when I get a grade higher than a C, when I finally make that phone call I have to make, when I get multiple things done in one day
32. star wars or star trek? 
neither, V all the way.
33. paperback books or hardback books? 
hardbackkkkk
34. to live in a world without literature or without music? 
 well, I really don’t like either, but I cannot be without music.
35. pale faded colors or vibrant colors? 
 idk vibrant probably
36. good characterization with a bad plot or a good plot with bad characterization? 
 okay so, here is the thing. I watch the X Files...terrible plot most of the time, but I love Mulder and Scully, and I watch for them. So bad plot, good characterization. 
37. favourite disney movie?
 my bitch ass would probably still choose Sleeping Beauty over everything else
38. tv show adaptations or movie adaptations?
 tv, I mean have you seen american gods?? that shit is beautiful and is doing the book justice.
39. museum or library? 
 library, I can’t touch anything in a museum and you get tired of just looking at stuff after a while.
40. high school musical or camp rock? 
 high school musical, camp rock was eh
41. three songs that have a special meaning to you? 
1. Walking Away by Lifehouse
2. September by Daughtry
3. Let Me Let Go by Faith Hill
42. what’s your 3 best / 3 worst traits? 
 good listener, caring, willing to help // stubborn, unemotional at times, obsessive
43. favorite smells? 
 campfires, vanilla, honey suckles, books, apples, lemon
44. if you could do your life over, would you and why? 
probably not, if I restarted then I wouldn’t know what I did wrong the first time and then probably do the same damn thing again
45. would you kill someone you love to save 20 strangers? 
psychology says no, but psychology also says that I don’t truly know the answer to this question unless I am in the actual situation.
46. if you could have personally witnessed anything, what would you want it to be? 
idk probably one of the many plays Gillian Anderson or Catherine Tate have been in.
47. If you had to pick one colour to represent you as a person, what would it be and why? 
green because I get jealous, but like thats the only emotion associated with it, so it’s perfect.
48. What passion would you pursue if there were no restrictions on your life (money, time, ability/education, etc)? 
Singing, song writing, all that shit.
My question is: If you could have any animal for a pet, what would it be (can also be a mythical one)?
I’m gonna tag @sharnamayxoxo @edierone @sapphic-princess-xena @scullysbagel @basmathgirl @cookie-moi and anyone else who wants to do it
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