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#but I simply Cannot Read Those and will just be honest with you
transwolvie · 25 days
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Again I will forever and ever support telling any person I am friends with to step back and consider their gender and the idea that they may be trans. I've had multiple friends come back to me afterwards and talk about how that really did open the door for them when it came to thinking about the possibility, and contributed to their current identity and transition.
That's so lovely. I wouldn't sacrifice that for the world. Even if you're cis, or don't really think about these things usually, I suggest you examine your gender. So ofc if someone is actually questioning I'm like.....there's a beautiful world out there, have you considered transing your gender?
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drchucktingle · 1 month
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autistic expression in a neurotypical art gallery
this morning i thought i would talk about AUTHOR VOICE specifically when it comes to AUTISM. as autistic author i have learned to turn the dial up and down when writing characters. rose from CAMP DAMASCUS is basically exactly where i rest on spectrum and this shows in a few ways
in roses internal monolog you will see that she uses phrases like ‘my friend’ to talk about folks where neurotypical buckaroos might just use first name. or with her parents she will think of them in FIRST NAME instead of ‘mom’ or 'dad’. this is way many autistic buds THINK
to explain this trot I will say it is not a way of disrespect or anything like that, it is simply that these terms are TECHNICALLY all correct and interchangeable. socially, autistic buds often learn to mask by pinpointing WHEN to use these words that logically the same to us.
in CAMP DAMASCUS i left these things in to create character, but if you go back in my writing you will see it. in TINGLERS this is because they are honest in PUNK ROCK way. unfiltered expressions. in earlier novels its admittedly just because i did not realize it was unusual yet
point is, ROSES internal dialog in camp damascus is neurodivergent and i CHOSE not to change her thought process in this way, because we are BOTH autistic. this can be a risk because some neurotypical buckaroos will read it and just think ‘what a strange way. this is bad writing’
camp damascus reviews are actually very good it is a very well received book by any measure, but you will see some folks kind of making fun of these traits (i do not think they would do this if they knew it was authentic autistic way BUT we cannot educate EVERYONE on this trot)
POINT IS i am now faced with an artistic choice in later books. do i write with my AUTISTIC voice even though some neurotypical readers find it awkward? in technical sense some readers WILL think each book is better if i eliminate my autistic tendencies in later edits
my advice is this: character voice IS SO IMPORTANT, but a big part of writing is finding the place between YOUR voice and your CHARACTER voice where both are authentically existing in some way. like acting, you are always bringing something of yourself even when you 'disappear'
when writing BURY YOUR GAYS i did not plan to make misha on the spectrum, but misha is part of me and i am on the spectrum. what i have realized over time is that ALL OF MY CHARACTERS will have these traits in some way because i wrote them, and i will never disappear completely
so when edits came for BURY YOUR GAYS and misha, i took that dial and i turned it farther towards neurotypical than i did with rose, BUT I DID NOT TURN IT OFF COMPLETELY. in literal sense, i left some of those ‘my friends’, because i will always bring MY VOICE to my art as well
i am proud of being on the spectrum. while my voice may not hit every convention of ‘good writing’ it is authentically ‘MY writing’ and i think that is more important than any outside checklist for ‘correct literary expression’. and guess what THE RESULTS ARE IN, MY BOOKS DO WELL
so if you are an artist getting feedback or reviews, consider which parts you can LEARN FROM and grow and change, and which parts are just AUTHENTICALLY YOU. because while your honesty may defy conventions and seem unusual to some folks, IT IS OFTEN WHAT MAKES YOUR ART SING
feel free to turn that dial marked 'YOUR TRUE VOICE' up and down when it makes sense. i do this all the time. but i have long since decided i will never turn that dial OFF completely. your voice is your POWER buckaroo, dont be afraid to sing with it
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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 2 months
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Semi-Final One
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Propaganda...
Colonel Brandon (1995):
Alan Rickman has the sexiest voice. Just listen to him reading poetry to Marianne at the end to witness how hot he is.
Alan Rickman simply embodies the truth of Col. Brandon in a way that no one else every could. It's the perfect merging of actor and role. He brings the perfect combination of honor, decency, sensitivity and passion. He is the ultimate mensch.
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Brandon propaganda in which even the film's director agrees that Brandon is sexy.
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More Brandon propaganda! This photo could only be published in black and white because it would have been too powerful in color (the original color version is currently being used to provide electricity for a medium sized town in Devon. It's THAT powerful).
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The brim of the hat falling over his eye. The casual lean. The hunting rifle slung across his leg. The puppy bestie. The fact you know he could row that boat while you watch and wish you were the boat.
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From Emma Thompson's diaries which she kept while they were shooting Sense & Sensibility. Emma Thompson said vote Colonel Brandon.
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Mr Darcy (1995):
Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.
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Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!
Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!
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The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!
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Fencing? Hot!
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The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!
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This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!
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Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.
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Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!
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There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.
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This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.
Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.
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THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭
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Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.
“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.
Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).
Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.
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My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:
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My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?
Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.
Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.
The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)
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ncteez · 6 months
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Cherry Boy. [l.c.]
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A new relationship is always difficult to navigate, for Chan, it appears to be even more difficult. For you? You’re just left confused as to why your new boyfriend of a month and a half hasn’t made a move on you despite your very obvious attempts to invite him into your personal space.  You soon realize that your boyfriend is a virgin, and that’s why he’s always running away with his hands covering his bits, even through a simple goodnight kiss. 
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog for chan's happy trail
WORDCOUNT― 10k
PAIRING― lee chan x afab reader 
CONTENT― brief break up due to horrible communication skills, virginity loss, reader gets super insecure about her body and personality, fluff, smut obv
NOTE― It's because of those pics...you know the ones. Anyway, shoutout to @ressonancee and @onlyhuis for proof reading this for me! love u guys with my entire being!
smut tags under cut:: 
SMUT TAGS― virginity loss, makeout session, neck kissing, tit fondling, unprotected sex, belly button kissing, mentions and focus on his happy trail, he’s ticklish oops, blowjob, premature ejaculation, pussy drunk chan forgets how to speak, desperate sex babbling, finger fucking, hand and cock guiding, cream pie 
~
Chan has a dilemma, and yes, it’s one that most men would scoff at. 
Trust him when he says that he is so very aware of what is happening around him but he simply cannot manage to muster up the courage, strength, or confidence to admit to you, his lovely and patient girlfriend, that he’s dodging your advances solely because he is the text-book definition of virgin. 
He is not only nervous about having sex for the first time, but there also comes the weight of him either not being good enough when he tries, or you laughing in his face and mocking him for it.
You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so fucking in your head if he really could just muster up a tiny amount of confidence to say that to you. 
It has been almost two months now since he asked you to be his girlfriend, and throughout this time never once has he done more than a gentle kiss to your lips or lying a slight guiding hand to your waist. It feels so… juvenile, so… middle school for a boyfriend to treat you this way. 
Seeing as how the first three dates you went on with him seemed to suggest he was more than willing to be a fulfilling boyfriend who can, hopefully, fill all of the roles that comes with the title– you’re starting to second guess that he ever liked you at all.
Perhaps the twenty-four year old man asked you that night to be his girlfriend out of pity. Or maybe he’s simply changed his mind about you. Regardless of the reason for why he acts like this, it’s getting to you.
Deeply, actually, by this point. It only stung a bit at first, but now it’s starting to feel like he has to be with you as a joke. Why else would he be consistent in wanting to hang out? Why else would he always be inviting you out on well-priced dates and buying you pretty gifts? 
It’s a joke. 
It has to be a joke. 
Oh, but that’s so far from the truth. If you would simply open your eyes, perhaps you’d notice the struggle that your polite little boyfriend goes through each time you try to suggest he make an advance on you. 
Even the slight kisses, it makes him suffer from embarrassment at how quickly his body reacts to you. 
He likes you so, so fucking much.
~
“I don’t think I’m feeling it today.” You respond to the muffled voice of your “boyfriend” on the phone, asking if he can come over to see you. 
“What? Why not?” He asks back, his voice concerned. 
“Do you want me to be honest?” You finally say with a long and annoyed sigh, giving up on any hope that this relationship will ever go any further than it already has. 
You’re fed up with feeling unwanted, undesired, and possibly even uninteresting. He’s the one person in your life that you care about when it comes to who you are and what you look like. His reaction, or lack thereof, regarding you as both a person and his girlfriend feels astonishing and does nothing more than make you question what it is that you’re doing wrong. 
It has to be you, right? Perhaps your body isn’t as pretty as he wants it to be, is that it? Or maybe your voice annoys him? God, what if he cringes thinking of how you’d move if he were to actually have sex with you? What if he doesn’t think about it at all? 
You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to let the intense insecurity weigh on you. You always promised yourself that you’d never let a man make you rethink your worth. 
You need to live up to that promise. 
“Chan, it’s been nice and all, but I think we should break up.” 
The silence he offers to you is entirely too loud, and feels more like a confirmation in your head that this is the exact choice you should be making right now. 
He’s thrown for a loop though, standing at his kitchen table staring off at the wall as you say those words. 
What did he do wrong? 
“Wha–” He cuts himself off, trying to find words to say. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” 
You let out another breathy sigh, annoyed at the way he plays dumb. 
“I’m shocked you’re asking me that. I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to break up with me yourself, y’know?” You let out a sad little chuckle before you feel that insecurity he instilled in you burn against your eyes. “I’m just making it easy for you, so that you can go and spend your time with someone that you’d rather be around.”
He pauses, still dumbfounded by what you’re saying. 
“Why are you saying that?” He bellows out in a deeper tone, making you feel as though he’s angry with you now. “I’d rather be around you.” 
“Oh? Is that right?” You roll your eyes now, annoyed. “Is that why you push me away when I try to kiss you? Or what about– what about when you left the party last week after I sat on your lap?” 
Ah. He knew it. He knew he should have admitted it. Despite his consistent apologies for his body acting on instinct to run away from you, he should have really tried to see from your point of view rather than his own. Even if he only ran to hide the fact that he is horribly aroused by you at all times, in every given moment. 
You can hear a pained groan fall from his lips, and a door opening on his end. 
“I’m coming over.” 
He doesn’t let you protest, and instead hangs up the phone. You sit there in silence at his rejection of your break up. As if it were his choice? As if he had any say in it? You want to break up, that’s final. 
Still, that doesn’t explain why you don’t call him back to tell him not to come. It also doesn’t explain why your heart is thumping against your chest in anticipation.
Or, maybe there is something to explain why you’re feeling butterflies over his blatant refusal. Perhaps, this is the first time you’ve felt wanted by him? 
That also makes it worse. Why should your boyfriend make you feel this way only when you’re breaking up with him? Why can you only see that he cares when he’s faced with the idea of losing you? By the way he’s acting, you can argue that he wouldn’t be losing anything precious to him if you were to walk out of his life right this moment. 
Still, you sit here in wait. More curious now to see if maybe you'll figure out why he refuses to look at or touch you in a way that would show you he wants you.
~
The first thing Chan does when he steps through the door of your apartment is slip his shoes off. The second thing he does is stand there awkwardly, as if every thought left his head upon seeing your face.
You look like you’ve been crying. 
“This is my fault.” He says with a slight crack in his voice. “Because I keep hiding from you….right?”
You nod silently, remaining on your couch that faces his timid and stiffened figure. 
He stares at you, examining the consequences of his own actions. 
“You want to break up because I haven’t tried to, like, do things with you.” He winces as he says it, struggling to not feel awkward talking about having sex. He’s embarrassed, but would be even more embarrassed if he lost a girlfriend over this. 
“That’s not the only reason.” You shake your head, looking away from him and to your hands as you pick at your nail beds. “I’d be okay with no sex if you’d simply tell me why. The fact that you haven’t told me anything–” Your voice cracks a little bit, feeling stupid for being so emotional over such a short lived relationship. “It kind of destroyed my confidence.”
He watches the way you refuse eye contact, which is something that stabs him directly in the stomach. He can feel it drop to the floor, adrenaline making its way into that empty space you’re creating for him. 
“Before we break up, I just want to know why it took this for you to act like you genuinely might have feelings for me.” 
He stumbles over his thoughts the same way he stumbles over his feet trying to approach you. 
By now, he doesn’t think he can ever feel more embarrassed than he does at this moment. He crouches down in front of you, sad that you didn’t laugh at the way he nearly knocked himself out on your living room floor. Then he looks at you, chasing your line of sight as if to reassure you through nothing but the air in the room.
“I was afraid you’d laugh at me.” He starts, and after seeing that your expression doesn’t change even a little bit, he continues. “You seemed so into me that I–” He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be as honest as he can be. “I just didn’t know how to act.” 
You look at him with irritation at those words. 
“Of course I was fucking into you. Why else would I have agreed to be your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back into the couch cushions and away from his crouched body. “Think about how I feel. The fact that you just watch me throw myself at you time and time again? The fact that you rejected me every single time? How is that not giving you the answers you need as to why I’m breaking up with you?”
He takes note of that heightened voice of yours, defensive and likely more hurt than you’re letting on. 
“Listen–” He breathes in, trying to internally hype himself up to bite the bullet. 
You were listening, but he’s keeping whatever it is he’s thinking about in his head for just a second too long. 
“No, I think we’re done h-” 
“I’m a virgin.” He interrupts you, lowering his gaze to the floor and refusing eye contact with you. 
Your eyes shoot to him though. The last thing you would have expected was for him to be a–
“You’re–” You try to repeat his words for confirmation, but he interrupts you again. 
“I can promise you it’s not because I don’t want to do these things with you.” He says, still staring at the floor. “It’s because I was afraid that you’d lose interest over it.” 
Your mouth falls open as you look at him, every feeling of frustration in your body disappearing almost immediately. 
“It’s because I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to, like, be any good at it.” He continues to admit. “I was trying to work up the courage to tell you, or to just like, do it.” He rambles, now scooting back and standing up to his feet. “And if you still want to break up, I understand. I just thought I at least owed you an explanation.” 
You watch as he nods to himself in an unsure way, turns on his heel, and heads back to the door to slip his shoes back on. 
You sit in stunned silence as your brain erases every single insecurity you gained over this month and a half relationship before jumping to your feet. If anyone could have been more insecure about this than you were, it was him. And now that you can see that, the guilt hits you twice as hard as the presumed break up would have. 
“You’re a virgin?” You ask, though that wasn’t at all the words you intended to say. “I mean, you kept pushing me away because you didn’t want to disappoint me?”
He nods timidly, halting his body and still refusing to look at you. 
He has one shoe on, and his other foot half in the other when you make your way over to him, closing the distance quickly and confidently.
“Don’t leave.” You say first, before physically moving his body for him to remove that foot from his half-on shoe. “Chan, I’m your girlfriend. We can wait for as long as you need, I just...”
You pause, now feeling annoyed with yourself for making it about you. Then again, it’s not like you could read his mind. Though, thinking back to all of those instances where he pulled away from you before, perhaps you could have read context clues a little better. 
“I didn’t know–” You trail off, now determined to save the relationship that both of you accidentally started to sink. “Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”
He feels…relieved by your words. Saying you could wait, asking what it is that made him so afraid to admit it. 
Finally, he presses one foot against his other, pulling his foot out of his shoe and stepping back, looking at you with eyes fonder than you’ve ever seen them.
“It’s not that I felt I couldn’t tell you. I was just embarrassed.”
You very nearly coo out at him, but you keep your distance with both your words and your body now. 
“It’s not that I’m not ready to lose it. Especially with you.” He admits, glancing at you for a reaction before sighing. “I think I’ve been ready for a long time, again, I was just embarrassed and also knew that I should probably tell you at some point…”
“You want to give your virginity to me?”
You watch as he blows his hair up through puckered lips, rolling his eyes before smiling at you.
“It’s not that I view virginity as sacred or anything either. There’s just a lot of weight that people tend to put on it, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He tries to explain as his body relaxes by the minute. “I wanted you to be my first time, yeah. When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I knew I wanted you to be the one to show me what all the hype is about.”
You’d laugh if it weren’t for the fact that this is still kind of a touchy subject. You’re not entirely sure how you feel about being someone’s first time, but you know you have feelings for him and to deny him of sex after you blatantly wanted it so bad from him…Okay, maybe you’re just in your head. Of course you’d be happy to be his first time. 
Ecstatic even. 
“So….” You sway on your feet, looking up at the ceiling before landing your eyes on him playfully. “It’s not because you think I’m disgusting or like, not living up to the standards you want for a girlfriend?”
“Jesus, no.” He says. 
You watch him scratch the back of his head, still probably embarrassed by how low this relationship had fallen due to the awful communication skills. 
“And you’re also kind of admitting that you have thought about it?” You continue, prying out the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly since you met him. 
He pulls back only a little bit, his cheeks warming at the words and the way his brain automatically thrusts him into the thoughts of all of those nights where he absolutely fucking thought about it. 
“Y-yeah. Yes. I have thought about it.” He nods in a self-reassuring way as his eyes land on everything in the room but you. 
You’re quick to give him your own reassurance though, trying to learn his boundary now that the secret is out and the relationship appears to have a second chance at succeeding. 
He can feel you close in on him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face against his neck. There, he holds you back, breathing in deep and feeling the scent of you wash through his body. 
Quite literally actually. As he would normally avoid, his lower half reacts far too quickly to even the simplest of touches from you. 
He pulls back on instinct, but you don’t release your grip this time. 
“You seem as ready as ever, I’ll admit.” You laugh upon feeling him stiffen against you, but you really do try not to shame him for it. “Still, we can wait until you feel ready enough to give it a shot, okay?”
He nods, entirely reassured by the way you don’t press up against it or comment any further about the happenings in his pants right now. Then he sighs out. 
“I can imagine I must look like an idiot right now, getting hard over a fucking hug.” He finally says as he pulls from the hug and makes his way back to your living room. “But we’re okay, right? You’re not breaking up with me?”
You follow after him, keeping your sexual distance, but absolutely indulging in the loving, sweet, and careful cuddling you’ve wanted to do with him for so long now. 
He appears comfortable when you tuck yourself under his arm and rest your head on his chest before answering him.
“I’m not breaking up with you,” You say, feeling his chest heave with each breath and intentionally ignoring the blatant tent in his pants slowly fall back into its flaccid position as he calms down. “It’s kinda cute, you know? That you were so worried about it.” 
His cheeks are still on fire, willing his body to calm itself through this sweet session of cuddling. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with you, and still, it is embarrassing in the way he knows you’re ignoring it for his sake too.
But goddamn, how heavenly it would be for you to like, touch it right now…..or something. 
“Never thought of it as cute, if I’m being honest.” He tries to joke. “If anything, maybe it's a little pathetic on my part.”
You shake your head against him, feeling more confident of your place in his life. 
“Pathetic? Don’t be mean to yourself. Besides, it’s kind of hot knowing that you got so turned on over a simple hug.” You laugh, hoping you’re not crossing a boundary. “No wonder you ran so fast when I sat on your lap, I definitely would have felt that on me.”
“Alright, alright–” He tries to hush you of your playful remarks, but ultimately, if you really think it’s an attractive aspect of whatever sexual dynamic the two of you will come to have, he’s going to make damn sure you see just how fucking turned on you make him. 
~
Things are good. Great even, now that you can pin point each moment your boyfriend gets a little too overwhelmed with you. He does still push you away, probably out of instinct but he doesn’t shy away nearly as much from intimate moments with you. Especially if the two of you are alone together. 
You’re a bit more careful in public or with friends though, because the last thing you want to do is make him feel insecure about it. Still, there are playful moments where you indulge in the act of touching him or kissing him just to get him excited, just to watch him stutter his way through ordering something. 
The point is, you almost ended a relationship with someone who, arguably, makes you feel more wanted than you ever knew you could. It’s nice, and it feels good. 
Even now, this is only your second full on make-out session with him, you feel absolutely adored. It’s cute in the way he’s trying to train himself to not get hard at even the simplest of touches, it’s even cuter when his efforts fail miserably and he’s arching his body away from you as if he could even hide what he’s packing. 
You don’t push for more, despite wanting it badly. He also doesn’t push…despite also wanting it just as much as you do, if not more. He still seems to need a push of confidence to actually go any further than a nice, non-body touching makeout session. 
This is fine though, and you indulge far more than you ever knew you would when it comes to this kind of thing. As if simply licking into his mouth is foreplay enough to counter a fucking blowjob for him. 
Never in your life did you think you’d be this into the fact that your boyfriend is a virgin. And it’s not even that he’s never had sex, it’s that he seems to want it so bad, and there’s just something about a man who is desperate that gets you going these days. 
Still, kissing him is something that fulfills you, especially with the way he’s avoiding his lower half and keeping it away from you. 
He kisses you back in a telling way though, more telling than that tent in his sweatpants that you can visualize even while your eyes are closed. He radiates the arousal through the way he moves his lips against yours, and the way he lets out little suffering sounds when you kiss him harder and harder. 
His hands stay against your face, neck, and sometimes your waist, but god. His kissing is genuinely just so good with the way it tells on him every few seconds. 
And when he pulls back, he’s out of breath, flushed, and looking as if he would want nothing more than for you to hint, to lay down some sort of implication that he can cling to for relief from the heaviness that’s been in his pants since the fucking relationship started.
You wonder if tonight is the night, because he doesn’t appear to want to stop making out like he did last time. If anything, as he looks at you with those heaving breaths, you can tell he’s thinking harder than he ever has about it. 
“Chan,” You whisper out to him, just inches from his face. “Do you think of me?”
When he keeps his eyes on you, seemingly stunned by your question, you continue. 
“Do you think of me after you leave? When you���re all by yourself in your room–” You turn your head so that your eyes can trail to the space he is attempting to keep from you. “When you’re touching yourself?” 
He feels the words run straight through him, causing an utterly pathetic twitch in his pants. The way your voice comes out soft and sensual as you ask him, as you look at him. He doesn’t even remember words at this moment, not even a simple “yes”. 
He tries to answer by losing a little bit of his self control, turning your head back to him with his palm just so he can chase against your lips out of the sheer arousal, but you pull away. 
“Do you?” You continue, encouraging him to answer you. 
“So much,” He wills himself to whisper confidently, ignoring the fact that his body just forced him to rut up and against nothing, all for you to see. “Every time I leave,” He puts emphasis on his words. “Sometimes I can’t even make it home first.” 
You smile at the image of him rubbing against himself in his car, so desperate to relieve himself of what you do to him each time he comes to see you. Not even making it out of the seatbelt before releasing all over himself, all in his pants. Shaking, panting, all alone and without you. 
“Cute,” You chuckle, finally turning your head slightly and landing a pop kiss on him. “I think of you when I do it too, every time you leave.” 
He looks at you, willing his hips to stay put as he thinks about the image of you doing that in this very room, to images and thoughts of him. 
“You do?” He asks for reassurance easily.
“Mhm,” You look away from him as you sit straight up and then scoot down the bed. There, you lay yourself down against your pillows and look at him. “Come here.” 
He’s reluctant to take your hand. But even he can admit that this side by side makeout session is starting to hurt his neck, and you’re clearly asking him to get on top of you right now. 
“You don’t have to but, Chan–” You say, looking down, “I don’t want you to leave this time.” 
Well, shit, all you had to do was say that. Honestly, the way you look at him with pure acceptance is enough to push him past the wall in his head that keeps him from finally trying to take the next step. You accept him as he is now, surely you’d accept him if he…. doesn’t last, right? What about if he isn’t good at it? 
Still, he finds himself planting one hand on the other side of your head to balance himself on top of you. Still just hovering, not yet wanting or willing to, you know, put it against you. 
You smile. 
“It’s okay, I can tell you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything else, I’m happy with just this.”
And then you both fall back into another, much more comfortable and natural feeling, makeout session. 
As much as you’d love for him to try and take control, his reluctance allows you to contain yourself. It allows you to respect him and his decision of whether or not he wants to do anything more than this. Still, this satisfies you. And if he really does stay, maybe he wouldn’t be entirely against watching you take care of your own arousal for him. Maybe he’d feel better watching even, taking notes on what you like, learning where to touch you. 
And you know, that really would have been okay but you can’t help but feel like he’s definitely wanting more. With the way his lips grow hungrier rather than more tired, with the way he’s starting to moan shamelessly into your mouth, with the way his hands are trying to travel to more intimate places on your body before stopping himself. 
You might be pushing it with the assumption, but it doesn’t hurt to try and help him, right?
When you feel his hands moving to your waist, up, up, and up until they’re just barely brushing against the underside of your breast, he pulls back again and pulls your shirt down to cover the exposed skin, all while kissing you harder.
You place your hand over his, wasting not even a second as you guide him back under your shirt, right up to where you know he wants to touch. 
And holy fuck does he. He doesn’t even pull back when you lay it against the warm and exposed flesh from under your shirt. His hand immediately starts groping. His lips immediately stutter against you in a relieved sigh from him, and all you can do is kiss him now with the same energy he seems to have in that one single hand. 
“You’re allowed to touch me, but if you need help doing it, just tell me–” You pull back to whisper, trying to take it another step further in the act of kissing against his jaw and down his neck. “I want to touch you too, but I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you tell me otherwise.”
It’s like he really forgets how to talk or give proper consent when his entire body is acting like a fucking greenlight for you right now. He feels so pathetic, on the verge of orgasm with nothing more than the soft fabric of his sweatpants to relieve him, and yet your breast in his hand, nipple hardening under his palm before he musters the courage to put it between his fingers, it’s a lot to take in, okay?
Still, he tries to say something, and he’s even more embarrassed by the way his voice sounds like it isn’t even his own. He sounds broken when the sound reaches his ears. 
“Don’t–” He starts, cutting himself off at the feeling of your lips kissing against the pulse point of his neck. 
“Hm?” You ask, pulling back and away, hoping you didn’t press too much. 
“Don’t stop.” He mutters out again, a little less embarrassed now that he feels you sigh against that same pulse point with the way his fingers fondle your nipple mindlessly. “Don’t keep your hands to yourself.”
Your brain falls into a stunned silence at his words, bringing a type of nervousness to bubble up in your own body. Is this really it? Is this when it’s going to happen? On a saturday night, against your pillows, muffled cartoons playing in the background…..past ten in the evening? 
You can’t help it as you kiss against his neck. You really can’t, with the way he opens himself up to be vulnerable with you while actively being on top of you, while playing with your breasts, while containing himself.
He seems to need you to do the pushing, but you really cannot shake the nervousness of being his first. You’re almost certain he is nervous about so many things, but still he appears to be eager to try. He’s eager to be with you, and, ultimately, to know what it feels like to be with another person that matters to him in that way. 
“Is there–” You stop, breath caught in your throat, only to fall out against his throat when he finally seems to have the confidence to make his first move. One that would seem so small to anyone else, but he– he raises a hand and holds the back of your neck, trying to press your lips and guide them to the area of his neck that he wants you to kiss. 
And you do, with blatant encouragement to him for doing that, all while trying to finish your previous thought. 
“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” You ask, kissing and now, licking against the spot on his neck that makes him shiver. 
He sighs in a shudder, craning his neck to expose more skin for you before his hand stills against your nipple and he pulls his hand from your shirt. 
“All of it?” He starts, a bit unsure of himself. “Everything?” He adds, pulling himself back from your lips and watching you fall back to your pillows. He leans his body up, relieving his legs from his weight and sitting on his heels in front of you, only slightly between your legs now. 
You can see that he has a bit more confidence with the way he’s looking at you. 
“I want to try all of it.” He continues, placing two hands on your knees, pushing your legs together and using his palms to make them sway left and right. It’s as if he’s thinking hard. “I mean, if you want to.”
You smile. 
You want nothing more than to do this with him, for him, and for yourself. 
“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation, now lifting yourself and re-positioning yourself onto your knees to mimic his own stance. 
He nods in a blatant and shy way, knowing that you can physically see how badly he wants this, and how badly he wants you to be the one to do this with him. He’s achingly hard, and he isn’t sure if he’s ever managed to get this fucking hard in his entire life.
It really is painfully arousing, with the way his pants stretch against the head when he’s sitting like this. The way the fabric offers little to no sensation but while looking at you, he feels all fucked up and warm. He tries to forget that there’s precum all over him, seeping through the pants that are presented before you, and god, the way you look right at it. 
He doesn’t shy away despite being as shy as he could possibly be right now. In fact, when your eyes trail back up to him, licking your lips before smiling, he a fucking goner. He knew he wanted you bad, but never did he know he needed you this badly. 
He’s so fucking lucky. 
“It looks… big.” You comment, leaning forward only slightly and sizing your boyfriend up. “But for your sake, I’ll try to control myself from moving too fast. I’ll go slow, okay?”
He doesn’t even nod, he’s too entranced with you in front of him, fully clothed, lifting his own shirt off of him as if he is incapable of doing it himself. Then again, he kind of is incapable at this moment. He swears his IQ must’ve dropped to a single digit by this point. 
And when that shirt comes up and over his head, you note that he doesn’t even blink. That small moment where his face was obscured as you pulled it off of him? His eyes stayed on you both before and after, only now– his hair is a total fucking mess and all you can do is feel endeared by it. 
“God, you’re so fucking attractive,” You groan in sexual frustration with an eyeroll. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”
Now he breaks eye contact at the praise, glancing away from you and trying his hardest not to smile like an idiot at those words. 
“To be fair, I’ve fucked up my fair share of relationships being embarrassed.” He laughs. “Kinda glad I did though.”
You land your eyes back on him, staring blankly at his naked chest and trying your damnedest not to look at him like he’s some piece of meat. But goddamn, the body of this man. 
“Come here, switch places with me.” You smile, reaching forward and trying not to think too hard about the way his arms flex when you grip them to move him. “Here, lay back.” 
And within seconds, you’re between his legs and looking down at his half-lidded, arousal driven eyes. 
“Fuck, really?” You groan again, glancing away. “It’s really taking everything in me, Chan, it really is.”
His heart is doing flips as he stares up at you. He feels doted on, adored, attractive. So he encourages more of those annoyed praises from you. 
“Taking everything in you to…?” 
You chuckle, because the audacity of this drunk and in love fool. 
“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to be in this exact position?” You smile, reaching down to run your fingers down his chest and straight to that happy trail that he so readily hid from you. “It’s taking everything in me to slow down–”
“Then don’t.” He says proudly, albeit still a bit shy at your words. 
You can see how red his ears are, only partially hidden by that head of messy ass hair. His stupid pretty eyes and gentle smile are directed straight at you without any type of reluctance. 
“There’s my confident boyfriend.” You chuckle, toying with the hair beneath his belly button and trying to not comment on the way his body jumps a bit at the feeling. “Was wondering where he went after he asked me to be his girlfriend.”
And he remains silent after that, watching the way you take the reins and lean down to kiss against that same spot of his neck. Warm breath fanning over the skin before attaching yourself there. 
Surely you can feel the way his hips react, humping up at each flutter of your lips. If you couldn’t, he knows for a fact that you’ll be able to now. With the way you trail down, across his own sensitive nipples, and then down, down, down. 
He glances down at you at the same time when you glance up at him and right then and there he thinks he melts. He’s never seen a woman look at him from this angle, and it’s only a little bit detrimental to his heavy and pathetic cock. The twitching never stops, he feels so fucking sticky in his pants and it really just doesn’t stop. Continuous leaking, and he really had no idea that there could even be this much pre-cum. 
Then, he’s pulled out of his thoughts with….a tickle?
“Oh?” You smile, leaning down to repeat that lick up his happy trail before landing a kiss straight on his belly button. 
His body jumps again, and he lets out a moaned chucked unintentionally. 
“Oh.” You smile wider, gripping both of his hips with your hands and holding him down in a playful way. Repeating the act once again. 
Your suspicions are confirmed with a third jump of his body, and another chuckled, frustrated moan. 
“So, he’s ticklish too?” You say with another kiss against his belly button before fluttering your fingers at the side of his hips. 
His entire body goes rigid before melting against the bed in an attempt to not react to the way you take advantage of a hidden weakness he had. God, he should have known that…like, sex stuff could be ticklish. 
“No– I’m not.” He lies, jolting again when you continue to test the resilience he thinks he has against your lips and fingers. “Hey–!”
And, well, you would’ve stopped if it weren’t for the fact that his hips raise with each tickled sensation, and you can genuinely feel how damp and heavy he is in his pants. It’s entirely arousing in the way its weight is obvious through his attempts to wiggle from your ticklish touches. 
“Alright,” You finally relent, landing one final kiss to his belly before licking down that same line of hair he offers his body. “Chan, I want to–”
His hips immediately raise to your words, the wetness from your tongue feels like ice against his skin when the air hits it and at this point, he thinks he knows what you’re suggesting. 
“Please–” He nearly cries out in a stutter. “Touch it.”
You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his abdomen before giving him a short nod that you know he doesn’t see. Considering, well, he just threw his arm over his face and keeps his hips tensed, and his ass only slightly lifted off of the bed. 
Desperate. Willing. 
You prepare yourself for seeing it for the first time by not seeing it at all just yet. Instead, you kiss down until your lips are met with warm, damp fabric. Immediately you can feel his length twitch under your lips when you reach it, and all you can manage to do is flatten your tongue out and against it to feel it pulse again. 
And again, until that same arm thrown over his face reaches down in a desperate attempt to take the pants off for you. He’s the one losing his self control now, no embarrassment or nervousness in sight from him, and it’s so fucking attractive to see him do it.
His shaking fingers fumbling with the waistband, shoving the pants down just an inch or so more to reveal more of that trimmed hair.
You don’t comment on the way he’s acting out of fear that it’ll make him feel shamed or even mocked, despite you truly believing it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a man do in front of you. 
Instead, you help him. Sinking your own fingers beneath his pants and tugging them down all in one go before allowing your eyes to land on it. 
“Jesus fucking christ.” He moans out, the air alone offering an overwhelming amount of sensation due to the temperature change he now feels between his legs. 
You finally look at it, so dark in color. As if all of the blood in his body resides only here. You gently move your hand just over it, feeling the heat radiate from him, seeing the precum continuously dribble from the head, and then, finally– 
“You’re so….” You trail off, in awe of the way his body just….keeps reacting. So much pre-cum. “Hard.” 
He releases a broken little sound at the feeling of your fingers finally touch him, and it feels insanely different from when he touches it himself. As if he’s not in control of his pleasure, and it’s all just you. You are the one who feels good against him. 
You’re shocked briefly when his hand makes it’s way back down to yours, grabbing it and essentially trying to get you to stimulate him more. He puts so much pressure against your hand, sandwiching it between his own palm and stiffened cock. 
You’re tuly in awe. This man has essentially edged himself to a world record, surely. 
“Slow down,” You try to soothe him, moving your hand against him and watching him retract his hand. “Relax, It must feel good, right?”
That little sob he lets out shows you his frustration. So needy, so ready. And even with you moving your fingers to circle his pulsing length, his hips continuously fuck up, not allowing him to have even a moment without a forceful amount of stimulation. 
“So good,” He moans, entire brain focused on what your hand is doing and unable to open his eyes. “I want it so bad.”
You don’t think he hears you chuckle and you’re thankful he doesn’t. You can imagine he would genuinely be embarrassed to know you’re witnessing his pure blissed-out and aroused-state of mind right now. 
And it’s not shocking that he’s entirely focused on himself at this moment, because he’s the one experiencing this for the first time. Even if you find it hard to believe that another woman has never touched his dick, you’re entirely flattered that it very well may be the case and that he wanted you to be the one to make him feel this good. 
“I’ll give it to you, just relax. I’m not going to stop.” You reassure his needy movements, and the way his body squirms at the slightest of touches. “What feels good?”
God, he’s so frustrated. 
“All of it.” He groans shortly, trying to take in a deep breath and just relax like you asked him too. 
You nod to his closed eyes and slacked mouth, fighting against his hips to be the one to pleasure him rather than himself and only when you blow a gentle breath against the head of his cock do his hips still and he shoots his hands up to your pillows, gripping them as if he’s preparing for something. 
You watch intently at the way he’s actively fighting to move now, waiting impatiently for you to do something now. Licking his lips, chewing on his bottom lip– god, he’s so pretty up there. 
Then, you grant him a new sensation. Only because by this point you’re the one who is about to lose control. 
You stick out your tongue and lick all the way from his balls to the head of his cock, making sure to keep pressure against it so that you can taste all of the arousal he’s spilled up until now. And while you were going to pull back to examine his reaction, this is the part where you release your self control.
The taste alone was enough to have you moaning, vibrating your voice against the vein of his length and then circling your lips around the head. 
Instantly, you suck at the feeling of pre-cum still pouring out of him. This time, there seems to be more. Coating your tongue with an almost sweetened salty taste. 
You feel briefly the way his hips chase the new warmth, clearly wanting to tuck itself into your mouth and quite possibly, down your throat, but you pull back and blow once again against the head. 
His entire body shivers as you glance up at him. 
You can barely comprehend just how into you he looks right now before rolling your own eyes in arousal at the image before immediately giving him everything your mouth has to offer.
Who cares if he comes too fast? Fucking look at him. You’d be stupid not to suck the absolute life out of him! That’s your boyfriend up there, chewing on his bottom lip, eyes sparkling through hooded lids, chest heaving–
And god, you almost wish he wasn’t as big as he is because it’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you take it in. You have to focus on sliding it through your lips, against your tongue, and right up to the back of your throat where the head of his cock bumps.
He can feel the way your fingers grip his legs through it, and by this point he has gone entirely non-verbal at the feeling. 
The only sound he can make comes from deep within his chest, and he can only release those sounds with heaved out and rigid breaths. His heart is pumping faster and faster the deeper you managed to take him, and–
“Ah! W-wait!” He panics, sitting straight up and becoming fucking floored at the way you stay on him. Moving your hands to his stomach and trying to shove him back. “Fuck,” He seethes as he takes in a sharp inhale, legs shaking as he flops back against the pillows. “Fuck, i’m sorry.” He continues to murmur, feeling himself hit the wall of orgasm and practically pulverize it. 
And you, oh, you. You taste it. You feel the twitching and the way his muscles stiffen under your fingers. You can hear him muttering apologies as it spills into your mouth, down your throat, and even out of the corners of your lips. 
You try to take all of it, up until you can’t fucking breathe, and only then do you pull up and replace your mouth with your hand, watching in awe at the way he just……
It doesn’t fucking stop. 
He went from rigid to stammering his words, to now blatantly and full-on moaning through both the pleasure and frustration of losing the warmth of your mouth. 
“God, Chan….” You whisper in a raspy voice, slowing your hands and intentionally pumping it out of him by now. 
“I’m sorry–” He stammers, body still shaking as you pull the rest of it out of him. “I tried to,” He winces with another unintentional moan. “I didn’t think it would feel that good.”
You smile both proudly and fondly, watching him stumble through his words and whatever excuse he tries to come up with. 
“I don’t think you know how hot you look right now.” You finally say, in a more stern voice. “You couldn’t have stopped me if you wanted to.” 
Only now, when he’s absolutely drenched himself in his release does he open his eyes in a drowsy way. He looks at you and that little smile on your lips and decides that, yeah, he can believe you. He trusts you, and he’s entirely obsessed with you. 
“But we still haven’t–”
You cut him off quickly.
“We have all night. All day tomorrow. All week, month, year. I don’t care.” You dead-pan, reaching for his, somehow, still hard length. “Chan.” You add, gripping it and testing the actual hardness of it. “You’re still hard, which is fucking amazing by the way, and you have no idea how wet I am right now.”
Oh, my god. He forgot. 
“You– you’re turned on?” He asks, looking away from you. 
“So fucking turned on.” You confirm for him, now releasing his length to give him a bit of a rest, considering he must not realize he’s still shaking. “Look, feel.” 
You say it as you crawl up and on top of him, seating yourself right up against his abdomen and grabbing his hand. 
He just stares, watching you guide his hand straight to the seat of your shorts. 
“Oh.” He sighs out. 
“Even through my shorts. See? Feel it.” You continue to move his hand against you, trying not to rut your own hips up much like he was doing before. 
Brain malfunction. He doesn’t even have a fucking IQ at this point as his cock immediately reacts in all of it’s sensitive, pathetic glory. 
“Do you want me to, um,” He swallows around a breath he didn’t know he needed. “touch you? Can I try?”
You sigh, relieved that he’s willing and immediately push yourself off of him and take care of all of the busy-work as quickly as possible. ie: taking off your clothes.
Unfortunately, you somehow briefly forgot that the man is still a fucking virgin. You can very nearly see his mouth fall open at your nude body being revealed to him. Even more so, you can see the dribble of saliva that he doesn’t quite catch fast enough, and his cock reacts. 
“You’re so cute, god.” You praise with the same compliment you’ve been giving him all night. 
And when you seat yourself next to him, hugging one of his arms and tucking it between your legs before closing your thighs around it, you smile at him and the way he literally cannot stop staring with his mouth agape. 
“Babe, you’re drooling.” You chuckle, shifting your hips a bit to rub yourself against his knuckles, where you’re still hugging his arm. 
Only then does he slurp up his embarrassment and try to remain calm. His fogged brain comes back to him quickly upon your comments as he wills himself to sit up beside you. 
He gets to….touch you. 
And boy does he. 
Eagerly, messily, and quite frankly, kind of embarrassingly. 
You make it easier for him though, laughing as you flop back and spread your legs for him. He’s quick to simply…explore. He’s not aiming for any singular area of your pussy because to be quite honest, he’s still struggling to stop staring at the entirety of you. 
You watch his eyes, the way they stare at your tits, then your thighs, your pussy being petted by his fingertips, and then– eye contact. 
He seems so sure of himself despite still managing to barely touch the clit. It doesn’t bother you one bit, because his eager fingers still find ways to touch you beautifully. There’s so much intent behind the messy movements. 
Slipping and sliding two fingers between your lips, up your folds, and then stopping just short of your clit before sliding back down and feeling where his cock would go if he manages to make it this far. 
I mean, surely he will, right? He’s losing his virginity as he does this right now, even. Foreplay still counts, right? 
And then, after several minutes of him exploring, learning, and practically teasing you half to death, you reach down to guide him. 
“Right here,” You soothe out in a soft voice, pressing his fingers against your clit and seeing him take note of it. “And here.” You trail his fingers down until they reach your clenched hole, and you very slightly press against his fingers so that the tips just barely enter you. 
He tilts his head at you, concentrating on where you lead him before releasing his hand and essentially leaving him to his own devices now. 
And you know, he did tell you he was a quick learner, because almost immediately he’s experimenting with putting a finger into you, and using his other hand to find a rhythm to rub against your clit. 
The whole time, he checks for your reaction, noting when your breathing hitches and when your body tenses. He continues, trying to only do things that make your body react and soon, you’re already turning to mush beneath him.
His fingers circle and tap your clit at a quick pace, with the other twisted inside of you. When he slides his finger out, and then back in, he rubs your clit harder, and god, yeah. Okay. You see his effort, and it’s such a good fucking effort too.
“Feels good,” You finally moan out for him, allowing yourself to give in to the pure arousal of the entire situation taking place. Thinking hard about what it would feel like to have such a desperate cock inside of you. “Use two fingers?” 
He listens instantly, moaning along with you when he slides the other in with the next thrust. His fingers against your clit trail down shortly after, curiosity getting the best of him when he spreads your lips open to see you stretch around his fingers. 
“It’s so warm–” He comments more to himself than to you, watching the way you pulse around him, watching the way your slick seeps out of you. It’s so hot for him to see it up close like this, and his pace slows at the image before him. “Can you take more than two?”
You lift your head in amazement at how he could ask such a thing. 
“Chan.” You smile at the way he jumps in surprise at your sudden, louder voice. Fingers nearly slipping out of you. “I can take way more than just two fingers.” You glance down between his legs. “Way, way more.”
He glances down to what you’re looking at before letting out an embarrassed sob.
“You’re really going to let me?” He nearly whines in excitement. 
You nod, reaching for him and pulling him to you by his shoulders. You land a kiss against his lips, trying not to shake at the way his fingers angle different inside of you as he moves to chase your lips.
“Mhm,” You soothe against his lips, intentionally scooting your hips down to your best ability to sink his fingers into you more. “Move your fingers– it feels good like this.”
He listens, feeling you throw your arms around his neck and cling to him through it, all while moaning and groaning right up against his lips. You’re not even kissing him, you’re just….acting like this and it’s fucking great.
He thought he would be the only one to be desperate in this situation, yet here you are, clinging to him as he works his fingers in you. 
“When?” He finally asks upon noting the way you start to move your hips against his fingers. 
You peek your eyes open and pull back to look at him. 
“Now? Do you want to do it now?” 
He nods, slipping his fingers out of you and inspecting how wet they’ve become. 
“Can I?” 
You finally fall back, leaning against your elbows and spreading your legs wide in front of him. Lending him a nod, you watch the way he just freezes after the fact. 
All you can do is laugh at this moment with the way he loses any ability to remember how sex works. 
Then again, you wonder if he ever even watched porn, considering how he’s acting and couldn’t manage to find the clit. 
“Do you want me to be on top?” You question, blinking up at him and his blank expression.
He shakes his head at you, still frozen in his spot before his eyes slowly make their way down to the glistening sheen against your pussy. 
“Don’t we like, need a condom or something? I can’t promise I’ll be able to pull out.” He asks, finally glancing away. “I don’t know if I can last as long as you want me to….”
And with that, all you do is lunge forward, grab your boyfriend by the cock, and pull him to you. 
He laughs, you laugh, and then it’s silent when he leans over you, feeling his length lay against your core, already feeling spent but so, so ready to give himself to you. 
“I’m on birth control. You don’t need to pull out.” You smile evilly, wiggling your hips and watching the way he closes his eyes tightly as if to regain his composure of those words. 
“I’m seriously in love with you.” He mutters, pushing his hips forward and letting his length slide through the mess he made of you. 
You smile, feeling that by this point, your face may actually be stuck like this permanently, and lift your head to kiss against his lips once more. 
“You’re ready?” You ask quietly, against his lips. “I can help you adjust to where it needs to be. After that, I want you to do what feels best for you, okay?”
He nods timidly, taking in a deep and nervous breath before feeling your hand guide his length to the opening. 
“Go on, slide in it.” You encourage him. 
And he does. 
Slowly at first, gently, until he feels your wet hot walls envelop the head of his cock in full, clenching, pulling him in. 
His arms shake from either side of your head as he balances himself there, and it doesn’t take long for him to drop his head against your shoulder in deeper breaths than he was taking before.
The sensation is so much, it’s no wonder people like to have sex. It’s so good, you feel so, so good around him. He can’t help it when he slides in deeper, not stopping until he’s releasing a wet moan against your shoulder and holding onto you as if his life depends on it. 
He thought that once he got it all the way in, it would get easier. But it doesn’t. Even as the two of you are unmoving, with your hands in his hair and soothing him through it, you still clench him. Your pussy still stimulates it without either of you doing a damn thing.
You on the other hand, won’t admit to struggling through that one, long and languid thrust inside of you. It felt as if he was splitting you open despite how wet you already were, and still are. The heaviness, the consistent twitching, all of it stretches you out more than you even knew you’d need and god, it feels so good to have him just hold onto you like, to have him adjust to the feeling. 
He’s no longer a virgin, and that’s not even what matters right now. 
What matters is the way he continuously nuzzles his nose against you, snaking his head to your neck and moaning consistently against your ear when he manages to finally move. 
He pulls out only a little bit before his hips stutter at the sensitivity, then he pushes back in. 
In and out, in and out, until–
“Fuck.” He moans, lifting suddenly from your neck, sitting up, staring directly  at where his cock sits inside of you, and he just… lets go.
Knuckles white against the grip of your waist, he powers through the sensitivity, he fucks through it. Fast, with no real rhythm or ability to realize just how deep he’s pushing himself into you, and then….
He’s done for. 
“That’s it,” You encourage him through half moans at the feeling, your swollen clit begging for a little bit of attention too. “Shit, Chan, that’s it.” You continue, losing yourself in his reaction to you. 
He only moves faster, his hips only stutter more, and thank fuck he already came once because he wouldn’t have made it a solid inch into you before coming undone if he hadn’t. Now though? He’s pleasantly surprised to be lasting even this long. 
Until he’s not, of course. 
And there, between your legs, he presses in as far as he can reach and loses his breath. 
Eyes rolling back, eyebrows furrowing, mouth agape, a deep moan rumbles from his chest as his shiver flows through his body at the first release inside of you.
You immediately shoot your hands to your clit, feeling it pump inside of you much like it did in your mouth. Already so much, you feel entirely full, and entirely ready if he can manage to keep coming for as long as he did before. 
You fingers assault the swollen nub so fast, working yourself up much like you would during a quick session of masturbation, not wanting him to miss out on what it feels like to have a girl come on him– 
It hits you faster than you can realize. 
Even when he buckles and falls back to your chest out of breath, you can’t even tell him that it’s happening. 
Thankfully, he doesn’t move just yet. Well, until he feels your pussy clench him tigher than before. In a rhythmic way, almost. 
Only barely can he lift his head to watch you, and that’s when he notes that you’re holding your breath. 
You pussy is pulsing, and then–
“Are you?” He questions, experimenting with the idea of trying to thrust into you as he asks. 
There’s the breath you’d been holding. 
“Yes!” You call out, both to answer his question and to appreciate that little thrust he gave you.
Even if his cock is slowly becoming flaccid, you’re still full, and he can still feel the orgasm wash over you. 
He’s silent through it, wincing at his hyper-sensitive cock and very nearly cursing it out for not having waited just a minute longer to release– then, you’re hugging him. 
Tightly. So tightly, you’re holding onto him and breathing into his hair. He can barely breathe himself with this hold you have on him. Still, he doesn’t fight it, he simply lets you. 
Letting you cling, letting the last jolting pulses of your core push the rest of him out of you. There, he manages to lift from your weakening grasp and throw himself beside you. 
Out of breath, sweating, a total mess, he looks at you like he truly will never be able to love another person the way he does right now. 
And it falls silent for a long while before you roll over, throwing both an arm and leg over him. 
“Man,” You sigh out. “How does it feel?” You ask this time, opening your eyes to playfully look at him.
“Huh? What?” He asks, quirking a brow. 
“You know, now that you’re not a virgin anymore. How does it feel?” 
He thinks hard for like two seconds before taking in a deep breath and smothering himself against the top of your head. 
“Like I’m in love with you, maybe.”
And you know, given that this relationship is barely even considered one in the eyes of most people. You don’t think you care. 
“Because I made you feel good, or because you want to let me make you feel good for like…” You pause, lifting your head to look him in the eye. “the rest of your life?”
He doesn’t even have to think twice. 
“The second reason.” 
“You’re such a simp, Chan, really.” You joke, skewing your head fondly to look at him. “But I think it’s worth a shot.”
~
978 notes · View notes
pinkie-pop · 8 months
Text
"We've Seen The Devil—He Was Hiding In The Mirror."
Part I Part II Part III
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Twisted Wonderland Various x Reader, Self Aware AU, Yandere TWST
Synopsis: The second oath revealed, a new character appeared.
Word count: 3k.
Includes: Obsessive and possessive behavior, PTSD, nightmares
"You are no savior—nor purpose nor God. You are damnation—a phony and fraud."
--------------
You flip to the first page and begin reading.
Entry 001: Names.
The Ramshackle Ghosts have informed me that they do not have names. Or, more accurately, that they have long since forgotten them. Grim says it is peculiar for someone to not have a name. I will have to trust his judgment on this. 
Entry 003: You.
Grim asked about you today. I, quite unfortunately, did not have much to tell him. Or rather, there was not much I was allowed to tell him. Whenever I try to speak your name out loud, my lips firmly close, like a flower blossom at night. 
When we are alone, you are all that he asks about. Not that I blame him for it, of course; I am just as curious as he. The ghosts are strange, though: they have never once asked about you. Perhaps they simply do not understand. 
Entry 005: 
Grim has revealed the truth of your existence to Heartslyabull. It was an accident, of course, but even so, I gave him a rather stern talking-to. They have directed all of their attention onto you. It’s true that I did not exactly like being on the receiving end of their “affections”, but at the very least I did not have to share you with anyone.
Entry 015: Fate.
I've been thinking more about names lately. Everyone seems to have one. I am no different. My name, Yuu, indicates that I am a stand-in for someone else. A blank slate for you to imprint upon. The others have similar names. Each one is an indication of our role. With just the names, you can figure us out. Are all names like this? Is each person's fate dictated by their name? 
What about yours? Your name is different. Your name is not a play on words, nor a foreshadowing of things yet to come. Your name says nothing. You are simply yourself. 
You are the only thing real in this world. You are the only thing who is not bound by the threads of fate. 
Entry 017: Love.
I had a very interesting conversation with the Heartslyabul students today. It was about you, obviously—for, what topic besides you could ever possibly be interesting? I had asked them about what they felt for you (rather accusatively, if we are being honest here. After all, how could they possibly feel anything, when they are nothing but code?) They responded that they felt love. Naturally, I had been expecting this answer, however, something about the way they said it made me pause. Perhaps it was the matter-of-factness of it all that caught me by surprise. They answered my query in the same tone of voice one would use to say that the sun will rise in the East and set in the West, or that the sky is always blue except for evenings and mornings. 
They said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. They said it as if they believed no other answer could possibly exist. I do not believe them to be worthy of your gaze, but even so, they have earned my respect. 
Entry 020: Real.
Some of those worthless NPCs doubt your existence. It is of little consequence, however, for your influence is all too real. Even those maggots cannot deny that much. You have changed this world without ever once stepping foot in it. 
Entry 027: Devil.
The characters you love are a complete mess because of you. They stretch themselves thin trying to win your affection. They pull all-nighters, throwing themselves into researching to bring you over to them. They destroy themselves when you’re away, and they ruin each other when you are here. 
They claim you are their savior—their purpose. Because of that, they put you on a pedestal. They worship you as if you are some god. But you are no god. You are its reverse.
You are a devil.
But don’t fret, my dear [Name], for I still love you all the same. When the others learn of your true nature they may abandon you, but I will always be there. 
You slam the book shut. 
“Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s rude to go through another person’s things?” Your surprise registers in your mind, but your body does not react. You do not flinch, though all of your senses are screaming at you to move. You recognize this person immediately, their silhouette is illuminated by the moon’s glow behind them. You had seen them before, but this is different. You are not just seeing the body, colorless and without soul—you are seeing the person. Now, you had seen their thoughts, their hopes, you had heard their voice. 
“Yuu…” Your voice trails off. You have nothing to say. What could you say? 
“[Name]...” They echo, voice eerily similar to yours. They smile at you—and what a smile it is! It is the kind of smile you only see in portraits. It is cheerful yet mysterious. Cunning yet serene. It is the kind of smile that betrays nothing of the smiler’s intentions. Pretty does not even begin to describe it. They are not just beautiful—they are beauty itself. 
Instinctively, you step back, unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of such an intense gaze. They close the distance easily. Before you can even blink, their nose is almost touching yours. You can feel their heartbeat on your chest as they reach behind you, hand slithering across your arm. Goosebumps rise on the skin where they touched you and linger even after they take the journal and step back. You think, for a second, that your response is out of attraction, only to realize faintly that you are afraid. It is the way they look at you, you think. Their gaze could be compared to that of a predator stalking its pray. 
The only difference being that no predator would dare make its intentions quite so clear.
They are still donning that smile of theirs. Only now it is wider, crueler. It vanishes as soon as it appears, leaving you to wonder if perhaps it was nothing more than your imagination all along. “Goodnight [Name],” they say, although it is far too late to properly be considered night, you suppose the distinction is not very important.
After all, they have already left.
———
Grim is standing over you. It is morning, you realize. The rendezvous from last night sits in the forefront of your head as Grim goes on about something or another. You are only able to catch the last part of what he is saying. ”Ya' got some wellness packages from the students—and letters. A lot of letters." 
Great. 
You step into your house slippers (when did you get those?) and head downstairs. Honestly, you were not expecting much. A few baskets with candy and first aid, get-well-soon cards and maybe, maybe a teddy bear—if they were really splurging. 
It’s like you were born yesterday. Of course it would turn out like this. Didn’t you see the offering room? And that was before they even had a reason to send you gifts. 
A mountain of gifts looms over you, casting a large and foreboding shadow across the dorm. Just looking at the giant amalgamation of well-wishes and apologies has you feeling overwhelmed. It takes you a few long seconds to gather the courage and determination needed to move it all indoors, luckily, you have Grim to help you with that (although, inexplicably, some of them had already made it inside even without the two of you). It is around the time you are dragging the fourth package indoors that you wish you had more people to help. 
Actually…
“Hey, Grim?”
“Yeah?”
“Where are the ghosts?” Grim pauses. Then, with a nonchalance completely unbefitting of the situation at hand, he replies:
“Dunno. They’ve been missing ever since Yuu shut down.”
“Excuse me?” Grim shrugs. “Three people go missing, right as a fourth turns black and white, and your response is to just…shrug it off?” Grim, at the very least, has the decency to look a little embarrassed at this. He tucks his ears flat against his head. Avoiding eye contact, his eyes dart around the room, likely looking for an excuse to change the subject. 
Grim picks up a letter from a pile. “Here! Why don’tcha read this one?” You take the letter from his hand, rather unimpressed with his attempt to fool you, but willing to look the other way for now. After all, suspicious as it is, the ghosts’ disappearance really has nothing to do with you.
“This one’s from Riddle,” you say, turning the envelope around in your hands. It’s white with a red rose seal. The address has been penned impeccably in red ink. The others in the pile are not nearly as fancy as this one, but they each follow the same formula. You suppose there must be a rule about letter-sending. 
You glance over at the other piles. Each has their own quirks that distinguish them from the rest.
Pristine white envelopes with red seals and red ink, courtesy of Heartslyabul.
Kraft paper envelopes tied together with string, “from Savanaclaw” penned plainly in black ink.
Grayish blue wrapped gifts with letters laid neatly on top, no doubt from Octavinelle.
Scarlet envelopes with what you suspect to be actual golden seals—an elephant and a scarab, surely from Scarabia.
Royal purple with silver encasings, long elegant calligraphy giving away its Pomefiore origins (although, one letter is drawn more sloppily than the others, you notice).
Most uniquely of all, a tablet that appears to function solely as a voice recorder, ready to be played at any moment, surely something one can only find in Ignihyde.
Gothic-style calligraphy and black envelopes with green seals, unquestioningly from Diasomnia.
You stare at the baskets of letters for a while, debating yourself on whether the energy of opening and reading each letter would be worth the effort. You decide that no, you’d rather not go through the ordeal, and instead, opt to stand up and stretch your legs, only to end up right back on the floor, reading through the letters you had just sworn to avoid. 
You really are hopeless, huh? 
———
“That’s the last one,” you say, tossing the letter aside and flopping down to lay flat on the floor. Getting through all of them had taken you hours, despite only having skimmed them.
“Jeez, they’re really persistent.” You nod, or you try to. It's actually rather difficult to make the nodding motion while lying down, but Grim seems to understand your sentiment, regardless. Your mind feels hazy; your vision is starting to blur. Perhaps you ended up straining yourself. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes, just for a moment.
You must have drifted off, because when you came to, you were on a couch, and not the floor. Just as well, you suppose, lying on hardwood for too long would hardly be comfortable. 
"Morning!" You feel a weight on your chest as your eyes shoot open. Yuu is laying on top of you, head resting on their hands and elbows digging into your ribs. Their face is entirely too close. You open your mouth to speak, but the words never leave your body. 
"Aw, I know you've got a lot to say to me, but it looks like we'll have to cut this conversation short. You seem to be waking up," they say, gracefully getting up and walking out of sight.
"Wait hold on—!" 
———
"—Wait, Yuu!" Your eyes shoot open as a feeling of Dejá Vu washes over your body.
"Hey, hey! Myah! Calm down!" A familiar weight settles on your chest as Grim stands over you, watching your expression worriedly. 
"I guess I must have dozed off. Sorry, Grim." 
"You okay? You were screamin' bloody murder." 
"Just a bad dream. I'm fine." Grim doesn't look entirely convinced, but doesn't seem interested in pressing the issue.
"You were screamin' about Yuu. Speaking of…where are they, anyways?"
“What do you mean?” You ask, a feeling of unease creeping its way into your stomach.
“They’re not in the bedroom anymore. So, where’dja put ‘em?”
“I…thought you moved them?” You bolt up the second that Grim shakes his head, frantically running around in search of something you know does not exist.
You are searching for the library.
It is then, as you are running, that something peculiar catches your attention.
It is a door. Now, that on its own is not at all a concern. There are doors everywhere, but this door…this door is different. This door is not supposed to be there. This is a door you have opened before. It is distinct from all the others—this door leads to the library. It was exactly the thing you had been searching for, and yet, now, standing in front of it, you hesitate. 
Your shoulders tense as you stare at the door. You look at it as if you are waiting for it to jump out and frighten you. But it does no such thing. It is, after all, nothing more than a simple door. This knowledge does nothing to lay your anxiety to rest. If anything, it only amplifies the growing pit in your stomach. 
You gather up as much courage as you can muster and twist the doorknob, even if only to lay your unease to rest. It is unfortunate, then, that your unease only grew upon entering. The door disappears behind you, and a feeling of dread crawls from you, emanating out in waves. 
This room isn’t supposed to exist—but you are very much here. 
“Come to read?” Yuu’s disembodied voice calls out to you. You silently scan the library for any signs of life. You find nothing. Perhaps there is nothing to find. “Looking for something?” You whip around, Yuu now standing behind you. They are smiling. It is that same cruel, bewitching smile from last night. Your throat feels dry. You are shaking. 
“You must have really missed me. We were only apart for a few minutes, you know?”
“What is this place?”
“I call it the Wraith. I don’t know exactly how it works, only that it has something to do with the subconscious. I came here when I shut down, and you come here whenever you lose touch with reality. It’s really fascinating stuff.” 
Lose touch with reality? As you ponder over Yuu’s words, images of your previous visits float through your mind.
And just like that, you are alone. It takes a moment for the realization to sink in on you: you are alone. And it is by your own doing, no less. What a terrifying lapse in judgment! What an egregious oversight!
Grim is standing over you. It is morning, you realize.
Your mind feels hazy; your vision is starting to blur. Perhaps you ended up straining yourself. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes, just for a moment.
You are searching for the library.
“But you know,” Yuu’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts. “a room like this doesn't just pop into existence. Someone has to make it.”
“And in order to make it, something has to be sacrificed.” They take two steps closer, and you take four steps back. It isn’t long before you are running out of space to hide. It isn’t long before your back is pressed to the wall, with their hands to either side of your head. 
“Want to know something funny?” They cock their head to the side as you stare at them, their grin only widening when you remain silent. “When I first shut down, everyone thought that something was wrong with me. But, really? I felt better than ever. It was like I was awake for the first time in my life. I was aware the whole time, I could hear everything. I saw the whole hunt, you know?” You are so still that you are not even breathing. When Yuu steps back, you suck in a breath and sink to the floor. They pay it little mind and continue on with their story. 
“Of course, I hated to see you so mistreated—but even so, I was a little glad. You finally saw them for who they really were, and I finally got to see you for who you really were. It was beyond frustrating, you know? Watching you get kicked around by filthy, vile creatures that could never be deserving of you.”
“Although, I suppose it was you who made them that way, wasn’t it? You’ve ruined them, you know?” The aura they’re emitting is nigh unbearable. Your body is screaming at you to run, but the fear has rendered you deaf. They smile. That same damned smile. Your breath hitches. Images replay in your mind as your head swirls
The mouth widens as storm clouds gather and swirl around you. Dancing around in a cruel ballet. Thunder cracks in the distance as acidic rain hits and sears through your skin. The flowers turn to gravestones, and the songbirds begin to scream in human voices. Thorny vines reach up and take hold of your limbs, cutting through your flesh and bones as if they were made of nothing more than paper. 
You are already halfway to being buried alive when you realize you’re being pulled in. Desperately, you try to claw your way out of the soil that threatens to swallow you into its suffocating embrace, but it's of no use. It isn’t long before you can no longer fight back. It isn’t long before you—
“You…what are you? You’re not…human.” 
“Does it matter what I am?”
“It does.”
“Then just call me yours.” They hold out a hand to you, urging you to take it. “I know that your presence ruins people, but I don’t mind.”
“Because I love you.”
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peachymilkandcream · 6 months
Text
Movie! William Afton NSFW Alphabet
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(A/N: The NSFW Alphabets are their canon events I cannot stop this I'm sorry T-T Also please read the warnings, I don't care if it's fucked my guy literally stuffed children into suits he's fucked up.)
WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, age difference etc.
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) William is surprisingly considerate, when he has the time to be. Most of his life is wrapped up in the chaos of covering up murders and coming up with new machines that sometimes sex just becomes stress relief and he doesn't have time for more. However when he can be convinced to take time away he really does try and care about his wife and make sure she feels clean and comfortable.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Deranged psychos and their hands are a thing I'm telling you. The power in behind them is 100% a secret turn on they won't admit. And when you've made your career the work of your hands, (like child murders and a booming business) you can't help but pick that as the favourite. For her, he's not super partial but he really likes her hair, gripping it, pulling it, is what he daydreams about.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Let's just saw how else did they have four kids, cmon now. ;)
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) While it's not inherently sexual William really loves putting fear into others, and he 100% has a r*pe fantasy that he puts her through often. (Although for her he doesn't tell her that's what happening so it's 'authentic') This includes fake home invasions as well when he gets bored of vanilla sex and wants to "spice things up". Poor girl lives in fear daily.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He has some before they met, mostly teenage mistakes when he had the time. After he started his career it was rare he did simply because of time. He knows enough of what he's doing, he knows how to make himself feel good and that's all that matters right?
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) My guy is a ride or die missionary, reverse cowgirl is the only other he'll consider. Anything else is just uncomfortable in his opinion, and again it's about what feels best for him.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) William's very erratic so it really depends on the mood he's in, how his day has gone if this kids annoy him. He has been known to be more humorous on occasion but it's not often.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Let's be honest William only gets his hair cut because his wife does it, he doesn't have the time to take care of himself like he should, those are precious moments that could go to his work. So no, he is not well groomed.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) This again depends on the occasion, usually it's just stress relief so it's quick and usually not very romantic, but if it's a special occasion like an anniversary or birthday then he'll be way more romantic.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Same as with his hair, he honestly just never has time XD
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Big somnophilia fan, probably a slight breeding kink, lingerie (especially stockings), hair pulling, choking, gagging, knife play 100% (he's a serial killer, I had to).
L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere in the house really, anywhere he can get a moment alone. He used to enjoy when she distracted him in his workshop in the basement but now those old parts bring back haunting memories...
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Her being a mother to his children, it warms his little black heart and gets him going. As well as any new sets of lingerie she buys or he buys for her.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) She wouldn't but if she tried to dominate him, he would nope the fuck out of there. My guy is an S tier misogynist and believes his wife should be beneath him literally and figuratively.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He prefers receiving simply because it plays into the whole gagging thing. Her gagging on his dick as he face fucks her is so hot to him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) As stated before it depends on the occasion, special moments require more slow and sensual whereas annoyance or hurry is fast and rough.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) His whole life is about quickies, having just enough time to get himself off is what he usually does.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He takes too many risks, if he's not careful he's going to end up hurting her.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Obviously when he was younger it was more, but now he's a one or two rounds at most guy.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No no never, no matter what it is he's come to not trust machines around his loved ones anymore.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) If he's in a goofy mood he will, but most of the time he doesn't have time to sit and tease her.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He's actually quite loud, groaning and even soft whimpers are his specialty.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) William has a thing for stockings because that's the first thing he saw her in and he started fantasizing how her thighs would jiggle in them while he was eating her out.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) I'd say he's above average, not too much but enough, he's slightly thick with a few smaller veins.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) His drive has really changed from wanting to have sex to wanted her to relieve stress. So because of all the stress he's under, it's pretty high.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) William is out like a light after, dreaming about his victims or how he disposed of bodies. Solid sleeper while his wife lays awake plagued by waking nightmares of her own.
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drafthorsemath · 6 days
Text
Brotherly Love
Synopsis: Crosshair can't sleep and Tech appears to him as a force ghost. Lots of comfort.
A/N: I need some kind of conclusion for my brain. Whether you accept the finale and that Tech is dead, I think I need to get this out of my system to grieve.
Word Count: 846
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It was nearly pitchblack in the bedroom, save for a sliver of a moonbeam shining through the window. Pabu was quiet this time of night and usually Crosshair found comfort in that. Tonight though, he was struck by sadness. He thought of Tech and the nights they'd spend together as cadets. Crosshair's eyes would hurt from the bright lights on Kamino after long days of training. Tech would turn off the lights, get into bed with him, and read to him. Crosshair smiled as he thought about all the different things Tech read. History, science, even the occasional holonovel. He would always find comfort laying next to his brother and hearing his voice. He wished he could hear him again now.
Crosshair sat up in bed and sighed as he looked out the window. He could swear he felt Tech's hand on his shoulder; steady and comforting as it always was. He sniffled and leaned into the sensation, only to realize that it wasn't just a figment of his imagination.
"Tech?!" Crosshair jumped up and turned to see a kind of blue light around what he could have swore was his brother. "What the kriff?!"
"Yes," Tech replied, examining his glowing limbs with curiosity. "I could ask the same thing."
Crosshair reached out to try to touch him. He felt a presence and yet could see through him.
"Is it really you?" Crosshair asked.
"Of course it's really me," Tech replied with an eye roll.
"How are you doing this?" Crosshair asked.
"I am unsure," came the honest answer. "However, matter is never created nor destroyed. It simply changes form. For whatever reason, this is the form I am currently taking."
Crosshair sat back down and without warning, sharply inhaled and let out a sob. Tech put his hand back on his brother's shoulder.
"I've missed you," Crosshair said, trying to compose himself.
"I'm still here," Tech said. "I've always thought of you before I fell and I've been with you since. I cannot fully explain the latter part."
"This is the first time I've seen you like this, though," Crosshair noted.
Tech nodded. They sat in silence for several minutes. Crosshair somehow understood now. All those times he felt like Tech was with him and he tried to suppress the feeling for fear it wasn't true when in reality, his brother had never left him.
"Tech?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry," Crosshair looked into his brother's familiar eyes and couldn't help but let a tear slip despite his best efforts. "I'm sorry I didn't leave the Empire sooner. I missed out on time with you. I should have done better."
Tech shook his head and pulled Crosshair into a hug.
"I am just glad you came home," Tech said. Both men felt relief. Relief that there were no hard feelings between them and that they cared for each other as they always had.
After awhile longer, Tech asked, "Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"
"I don't want to wake up and find you're not here."
"I'll still be here, Crosshair. Even if you can't see me and I promise I'll do my best to show up so you can. There has to be some interesting science behind this and now I have an infinite amount of time to try to figure it out."
Crosshair chuckled. That was so like him. Then, even though Tech had changed form, Crosshair could sense his brother had a question as easily as if they'd both been there in the flesh.
"What is it?" Crosshair asked.
"Are you going to get a prosthetic for your hand?"
"I'm not sure yet. I still have my left hand and Echo's given me some tips on getting by."
"If you do get a prosthesis I would be happy to help you optimize its utility."
"Can you even hold a spanner?" Crosshair asked dryly.
"I'm sitting on your bed and just gave you a hug. If I can do that, I do not see why I cannot use tools to fix something."
"Fair point," Crosshair replied with a grin. "I'll let you know."
Without a word, Crosshair and Tech both laid down as they had done when they were cadets. Instead of reading, they talked about their brothers and Omega. How much time it took them to truly relax on Pabu after the intensity of all that had happened. How Omega was growing, having something of a childhood, and how her piloting skills were improving all the time. They were both filled with pride in her.
It took awhile, but Crosshair finally let himself sleep, still feeling his brother right next to him. When he woke up in the morning, he startled a bit. He couldn't see Tech anymore. His eyes searched his room, but Tech was no where to be found. Had it been a dream? Was his brain taunting him? Just as he wanted to curse these mind games, he felt Tech's hand on his shoulder again and took a deep breath. Tech was still there. Crosshair would never have to be alone again.
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lasirenatarot · 11 months
Text
⭐️ What qualities of yours you can use to upgrade your life? MINI PAC READING ⭐️
Pick a picture using your intuition:
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Pile 1
You may be a perfectionist, may also have this desire to constantly improve yourself, but at the same time you may be indecisive and doubtful when it comes to changes in your professional life. You may prefer hard work, the sure,but long and steady road instead of a risky decision that may cost you all the hard work you’ve put in your previous endeavours. I feel like this is definitely the right path for you tho, the non risky one. You are consistent in what you do, you may feel like cannot afford to have bad days/ mess ups. You’re responsible with your finances which may help you in all aspects of your life in the long term. You may be a bit of a workaholic and sometimes brutal in pursuing your goals, try not to slip into extremes.
However, your luck stands in accepting your « faith » and surrendering to the fact that you have to really put in the work in order to succeed in what you’ve wished for. This is the hustler pile, not the nepo baby one.
When you do that, more opportunities and abundance will flow easily into your life. Your hard work and talent will be rewarded by the right people if you stay consistent all the time, no matter what.
Pile 2
If you are attracted to this pile, check pile 3 as well
You may appear like you are a bit lazy & empty headed to some people, howeverrrr, in your case this is not a bad thing at all. People may be projecting qualities on you. In reality you may simply just be a confident person who happens to look loving, soft& helpless. Do not fight this, use it to your advantage and plan your moves ahead, as it may awaken others’ desire to help you and give you stuff, especially male figures.
You may be an honest and direct person, which in my opinion, are great qualities for one to posess, sometimes you may need to tone it down tho. Pick your words wisely.
You need to deal with your subconsious limitations and learn how to accept help from others so you can grow and upgrade. You may not be the most adaptive person, you may need to change that in order to succeed. Value others’ point of view/opinions, try not to appear argumentative, if you disagree with someone, better keep it to yourself.
Pile 3
If you are attracted to this pile, check pile 2 as well
For some reason I feel like pile 2&3 are related.
You may be passionate when it comes to what you believe in, you may be one of those people who are not afraid to voice their opinion and say everything that’s on their mind, those who have no filter when they speak.
You may have unmovable positions on certain topics. I am getting again this exact message from the previous pile: you may need to learn how to be respectful of others’ opinions and maybe change your views on some things in life. The fact you’re honest and direct does not mean you have to be arguing with people who do not share the same views as you or shoving your views in their faces, not every fight deserves your participance in it.
When you learn how to adapt in different groups/situations, transform and leave the past where it belongs: in the past; that’s when you can find your fullest success and happiness. (your old ways\coping mechanisms may be a lost cause/keeping you at a certain level,stopping you from getting to the next level..)
This was all from today’s PAC reading. 🌟 hope you enjoyed it!
- La Sirena💋
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mooncheese3 · 5 months
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au wherein when sj first got into the sect and went down to the brothel, he runs into a young wannabe rogue cultivator
the rogue was, well, roguish— rough, rule detesting, and flighty. handsome. brown eyes and warm cheeks, most likely a slight sunburn (because of course he doesnt have a hat). he looked around sjs age, if a bit older. more height than muscle, but with time and experience sj reckons he’d grow broader as well. the only thing that caught sj’s eye at the time though… was his terrible spending habits!
what was he doing, getting scammed out of his coins over some sword tassels of all things. atrocious!!!!!!
if theres one thing sj cannot stand and can relate with sqh, its detesting those who cannot use their money right. his shitty day adds onto his anger, so rather than leaving it alone, sj goes over to the pair of merchant and customer, scolding the merchant first and then the rogue cultivator. the rogue, new to this living out of his mansion thing (his previous life as the fourth son with too much freedom couldnt compare to now, he doesnt even have people to fall back on for funds!), decides, ‘hey, this persons nice enough to tell me i did something wrong, why not keep going to him for help?’
the rogue camps out at that town, always there to pester sj once he comes down the mountains. sometimes sj lectures him, sometimes sj scolds him, and sometimes he simply observes how sj acts around the streets and notes down whatever he gleans. it goes on for weeks, until finally the rogue (and secretly sj) feels like he can survive out there—all he needed now was experience, something he cant get with just the knowledge he now has
after that, sj expects to never see him again. when people get what they want, they leave. thats just what happens, simple as that.
but then, to sj’s astonishment, he meets the rogue again! not on accident, mind you.
“well, we’re friends now!” the rogue says, “/and/ i saw an imitation of one of your paintings at an auction and was like, ‘i should visit’”
sj immediately thinks that isn’t true. there must be something else the rogue wants from him.
and so once in a while, at least once or twice every two months, sj continues to encounter the rogue whenever he goes down the 12 peaks. each time, sj’s doubts ever so slightly melt away. and each time they meet again, they both note to themselves that the other has changed.
sj notices how the rogue comes back with a harsher tan, wider now in his frame. hes more confident and mature, more streetsmart and wise. the guy isn’t so prone to impulse, now taking the time to think before doing something. a small improvement, to be honest, since he still goes and does something foolish, just with a backup plan—though sj bets theyre made up on the spot most times (he also finally invested in a cloak— apparently he has a thing against hats? sj’ll find out one day, he’s sure)
the rogue on the other hand notices how sj comes back more refined, more otherwordly in aura. his quips and witty remarks have taken on a new level, he probably needs to go back to reading to get half of the references! he walks smoother, and each step he takes looks as light as a feather—how does he do that! (worryingly, the rogue also notices how sj always looks like he’s being weighed down, and that his walls are higher than ever before. did something happen?)
the day sj realizes the rogue is the first person to not want to take something from him, and who he’s sure wont leave, even if the time spent together is so much lesser than being spent apart, he feels…scared. anxious, as if now that he’s been made aware, the world will now make it its mission to take this one thing away from him. for the first time, instead of driving the rogue away like all the others, he feels compelled to stick as close as possible. being away from the sect is an added bonus.
the rogue likes this change, though is confused as to what brought this on. oh well, the company is nice! now he can show sj all the little things that reminded him of sj he found on his travels. like this one staff being displayed in a shop: it was such a pretty shade of green! or, or this one lake in a cave, the ripples would be nice to paint right? especially when the light from those bioluminescent vines hit the water.
sometimes they get separated on their travels, but they always find each other again. unconsciously, instances like these help heal sj’s fears.
in short the two of them go from strangers, to acquaintances, to friends (in the distant future lovers AAAAA)
sidenote: rogue guy is like, similar to lqg in how he goes about his morals. hes a do good, think about it later, type of guy. while lqg’s a do good, DONT think about it ever, type of guy.
he got disowned by his family because he exposed them for selling counterfeits, tax evasion, import and export of illegal items etcetc to the authorities. while he doesnt regret doing the right thing, he does regret doing it loudly and without a plan. the family members he knew were innocent, who he didnt at least warn beforehand so that they can get away/cut ties before all of it goes to shit, were and will continue to be shamed by everyone they come across for the crimes the rest of the family committed
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tarotmundomonde · 3 months
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Their feelings for you (February 2024 love)
12 piles to choose from in case you have multiple love interests or simply are curious about one or more than one's person's feelings for you in a romantic sense. Have fun!
pick a number 1-12 OR an emoji 💝 😳 🥵 🥶 😵‍💫 😵 🥸 💟 💨 🥺 🤠 🕳️
(ps. this reading is for practice, fun and entertainment as always)
1.💝 They feel like they've found something really special and that something is you. They actually feel you two are meant to be. It's something they cannot explain in words, they simply feel it. Just know that this person feels drawn to you like a magnet and they really want to hold your hand. If they can or could, they'd want to take you to a room, lock the door and show you, how much passion they feel towards you and how truly loving they can be. They really want to show you their love for you. Yeah, they are defitinitely sure that they love you.
2.😳 This person has caught feelings for you unexpectedly. So they don't really know, how to handle that, feeling a bit dilly dally. It's like usually they feel very balanced and grounded and then you appear and boom, their heart is skipping a beat. And it happens everytime they see you. And everytime they need to recompose themselves. To be honest, they feel like they are experiencing some unexplainable burst of emotions and it's starting to make them lose their footing a bit. Like it's becoming more difficult to just brush it away and to ignore it or rationalize it. So there is some kind of change happening in their feelings for you. In short, whether they like it or not, as for now it seems they are catching feelings for you and it's growing everytime they see you.
3.🥵 This pile screams "I WANT YOU". That's their feelings for you. So much passion, they simply cannot resist you. They want to touch you, to feel you, to kiss you, to make love and pleasure. They feel so much pleasure. If you are not in that kind of phase yet, they really want to charm you, to make those feelings reciprocated. They want to make it happen. They feel this slight longing towards you, like can't wait to see you again, can't wait to kiss you again. But the main message is they want you.
4.🥶 They want to break the ice. They seem to feel like it's awkward around you or somehow the communication is awkward between you two or something like that and they feel like trying to melt the ice. Depending on your connection and situation, either they want to cheer you up by cracking a joke or doing something they know would make you smile or the same but not to cheer you up but simply to break the ice. This pile comes through as an awkward chuckle. Like this person they feel that they want to try and make the mood lighter between you two. It's really like they wanna make you smile or laugh just so things wouldn't feel so awkward or to cheer you up.
5.😵‍💫 The unavoidable. This is someone, who has been running away from their feelings for you or somehow have been avoidant. But something inexplicable seems to have happened and suddenly they feel like it's time to put in the effort. For example, if you have some language barrier, they feel like they need to study the language, to work harder so they can come forward and have a proper conversation with you. Or if they've been avoiding contacting you, something happened and they just feel this sudden feeling that it's up to them to make things move forward. Like it's time for them to put in the effort and show you that they are serious about you. Nonetheless, it's becoming more clear to this person that you are in their heart and that other people have not succeeded in taking your spot in their heart. There is this feeling that next time they see you they feel like they no longer will avoid you or drag their feet but rather they want to put in the effort.
6.😵 They feel melancholic. Their feelings are quite intense, to the point that they feel they are going crazy. To be honest, looking at their feelings for you it looks like this person might not be available and yet, they can't help but want you. They also feel jealousy.
7. 🥸 This person wants to forget you and is trying to forget you by being with someone else. Looking at their feelings for you, there is determination to make you disappear from their heart by trying to replace you with someone else. In other words they are trying to replace the subject they feel those feelings for. So what it looks like is that they have lingering feelings for you. You are someone they don't want to think about and don't want to have feelings for, but you still exist in their heart space, kinda like a shadow. In other words, even when they are with someone else, their feelings for you are still there in the background, they are not gone.
8. 💟 If you chose this pile, it looks like this is someone you broke up with or in general an ex-connection. This person wants a reconciliation. In their heart they can't accept that it would be over and they want to talk with you. They want you back.
9.💨 This person feels very balanced and cery certain. They feel certain that they can find someone better for them. There is a sense here that in their heart they have friendzoned you or they feel like they could have a random hook up with you, but they don't feel that you are love partner material for them.
10.🥺 It looks like they can't understand their feelings for you. It's like it doesn't make sense to them. You seem to make them lose their reason? You make them want to talk. It seems where there used to be still waters, there are flowers blooming now. Their feelings for you are feelings that are foreign to them. They can't help but want to know more and talk to you more. They feel a weird ache in their heart for you. It's like they don't know, how to properly handle and express their feelings for you. Whatever may be the situation, it seems they just feel like their heart is out of control and they can't, yet, they just want to run to you.
11.🤠 They seem to experience a wave of internal impatience. It's like they trust and remain optimistic and feel like they should wait, but at the same time they experience difficulty in staying put and can't help but want to do something, like throwing a coin at you to catch your attention. They feel like they want to give you a nudge. For whatever reason, they seem to feel like they can't just trust and have good faith, like they can't just sit still and trust that something will happen. They seem to feel like trusting is not enough and that they need to give you a sign or something to make sure things will move forward between you two or to make sure that you would be interested in them. Depending on your situation/connection, maybe there is something they can't wait to give you or show you.
12.🕳️ Whatever may be the situation, this person doesn't feel like it's the right time to talk or make any decisions. Frankly, depending on your situation/connection one reason could be because you are not a love interest of theirs at the moment.
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imaginethezeldaverse · 9 months
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The Desert's Moon (Ganondorf x Reader) (NSFW)
Welcome, welcome to the 100 follower fic I set all those polls for! You all chose and waited so patiently, so please allow me to give you the winner: a good fic with our big bad guy, Ganondorf (Tears of the Kingdom version). This will be nsfw, and just to be safe, be wary of any spoilers below the cut, okay? For this fic I'm running with an idea that was dropped in my inbox - initially I had planned to make it a simple headcanon post, but since he won, I'm writing it as a full blown fic instead. Thank you all for voting, it sincerely means a lot, I cannot believe even more of you have followed me since then. The comments and appreciation from you all truly makes my day. 🥹 As for the theme: you are inexperienced (we'll even say virginal) and Ganondorf here is going to be your first. Let's explore that together, shall we? Reader is gender neutral for all to enjoy. I sniped some fictional Gerudo language from here because I mean Ganondorf is a Gerudo man...he definitely should be able to speak the language.
Ganondorf is intimidating, this much is true. His demeanor exudes power in all things he does: fight, lead, and even fuck. He's had many a partner, his skills as a lover growing with each encounter of his past. He is not unfamiliar with experienced partners - and he will show you the patience and slowness you deserve.
The key is for you to be honest with him. Should you try to front as though you are experienced in sex, just know that he can see right through you. Ganondorf's read on body language is exceptional - so the slight shake in your body or the quiver in your voice is an immediate alert to him that you aren't what you're trying to portray yourself as. To your benefit however, he'll most likely find this cute. You attempting to be brave and take him head on is adorable, even though you have no idea what you'd be getting into (or really what would be getting into you). Being upfront however is not without its loss - you'd gain his respect and potentially a chance to call him an equal, he likes the idea of a long-term partner who can be honest with themselves as well as him.
For a man of his size and status, he's quite gentle. He offers to hold you first in your nudity, get you used to feeling his body against yours. Ganondorf will most likely seat you in his lap, with your legs splayed open over the length of his hips and thighs. Should you shy away or find yourself embarrassed by the less than polite way you're sat on him, he'll simply chuckle, reiterating that this is to acclimate you. His hands will find a place on your thighs, unmoving, but present. "Touch me anywhere you'd like," he offers, the rich amber of his eyes meeting your own. Setting the pace in your favor will help ease some of your apprehension. Your hands explore the planes of his body: his adept, powerful hands; the sizable, muscular curvatures of his forearms and biceps; over the thickened bands of his shoulders and down to the broad expanse of his chest. He's a mountainous man in size and that alone has you a tiny bit afraid, but you also can't deny that being able to trace your fingertips over the patterned tattoos that stretch across his muscles doesn't elate you.
When your hands finally cup the wide angles of his jaw, you find the pluck to once more lock eyes with the Gerudo chief. There's something unreadable swimming in them: whether it's tenderness or restraint you aren't wholly sure. His arm wraps around your lower back, bring you ever closer to him in a swift push. Your hands remain on his face, lips inching closer. Ganondorf doesn't kiss you. No, he wants you to be the one to take the honor of taking the first step. The world talks of his lust and greed for power, and make no mistake, the rumors are very much true. But this - intimacy with you - Ganondorf knows better than to rush. Taking you by force serves him little, and there is humanity in him still that bars him from wanting any harm to come to you. To feel your body yearn for him willingly only makes that much sweeter. Your breaths mingle momentarily, your heart pounding in your chest until you finally take the plunge and seal the gap. You're chaste in your kiss, timidity holding your tongue. No matter, the sensation of his thick digits roaming over the curve of your ass has you gasping enough against his mouth for him to coax you into a deeper kiss. Unbeknownst to you, your head tilts naturally, angling so that you can continue the kiss comfortably. You let go of his face, your fingers sliding into his long vermillion locks. There's a sound vibrating at the back of his throat that hits your ears so pleasantly - the simple soothing sensation of your hands in his hair delights him, so naturally he wants you to know it. The kiss builds heat, your body slowly beginning to want his hands to move beyond your backside. You lean into him, pressing your chest to his and linking your arms around his neck. The smile that curls his lips upward is something you can feel, and you almost smile back - but his hands that have now occupied a space on your hips are dragging your body over his lap. Ganondorf parts from your mouth, watching you bite your lip as he slowly grinds you over what you realize is his length beginning to grow rigid beneath you. Breaths slowly starting to come in shudders you snap your eyes shut, focusing on how his length slides teasingly over where you biologically know he's going to be soon enough.
"Do you feel me?" he purrs, dark tiger eyes trained on your flushed features, "Do you feel my want for you? My desire?" Your thighs are seeking one another to lock this feeling between them, but his hulking mass keeps them widely separated - your center at the mercy of his ministrations. Seeking purchase, your nails dig into his shoulders, earning a pleased rumble from the man. His lips find the hollow of your throat, easing pointed kisses and gentle bites to your sensitive flesh. Soft moans sound angelic to Ganondorf's ears; with ease he lifts you into his arms, your legs still very much wrapped as best as possible around his torso. Smooth, crimson silks caress your back as you're laid across the stretch of his bed. He doesn't stop kissing your body, only proceeds to move down it. Your collarbone, your nipples, the softness of your stomach: all places his lips tease and touch. He drinks your whines and whimpers in as though starving, an innate need to hear your voice call out to him ever growing. Still, he keeps slow. Rough finger pads glide down your body, stroking and fondling a pathway until he settles on his knees, with your legs splayed open by the sheer width of him. Those kisses that traveled now dot their way from your knee and inward. Your breath hitches, you know where he's going...you desperately want him there. As he reaches closer and closer, you shudder out, "P-Please...Gan..." Those initially amber slits, now ochre with hunger, slide up to see your face. Your cheeks are stained with reddish hues with your chest rising and falling faster than before.
"Is there something you need?" the timbre in his voice makes somewhere your stomach clench. How is it just his voice makes you feel this way? What kind of spell has he cast on you? Though your mind tries to wrack itself with answers, it always circles back to the lips that are nipping at your inner thighs. He places a kiss just close enough for you to feel his breath over your sex and you swallow thick with the gasp that tries to free itself.
"Your...mouth..." says you in a shaky whine, "Please..."
Like satin and fire, his chuckle is both suave but with the promise of something vile. A strong grip parts your legs further, holding you wide open. You try desperately not to look at how he drinks your nudeness in, fearing that you seeing the sheer lust flashing across his strong features will have you curl into yourself.
His mouth descends.
You gasp sharply.
Hot and wet is his tongue against your opening, circling your responsive flesh, his eyes never leaving your face. Ganondorf watches on as his silver tongue devours you, each lap and suck at you surging pleasure through your limbs. With one last scoop at your hole, he drew back. There was a question at your lips when you felt him retreat, but before you could even get a word out, you felt his finger carefully slide into you.
"A-Ah!" you mewled, then hissed. Given the size of him overall, even his fingers were substantial in filling you somewhat.
"Shhhhh," Ganondorf hushed your seizing frame. A hand came to your thigh, his thumb stroking in soothing circles the same time his opposite finger exited you, "Relax, my va'ina, you'll need to be much more open if you plan to take me." Your body shudders as you breathe, willing yourself to relax yourself in his ministrations. Having already gave you some slickness there, his finger meets less resistance than normal. His eyes roam your figure slowly, watching all of the small shivers and shakes that begin to build as his digit steadily works in and out of you. A spark of want pulses up your hips, with each coax of his finger you felt tiny rivulets of desire multiply inside you.
"Ganondorf..." came your gentle plea. This feeling was slowly starting to feel inadequate, your hips moving ever so slightly to try and chase the sensation of fullness. Chuckling at your urgency, the Gerudo chieftain withdraws his finger - adding another and sliding back into you. Eyelashes aflutter, you mewl at the sensation of being filled once more.
"There we are," he mused, smirking at the way you're snatching your bottom lip between your teeth. Gradually his fingers stretched you open, separating minutely as he fed your body each stroke. As soon as you had acclimated, you found yourself once again needing more. His hand, though making you feel good, was simply proving not to be enough. Ganondorf recognizes this as your features scrunch with some frustration. You need him, don't you? You need more than just two measly fingers to give you the passion that you seek.
"Your body seeks more than my current attentions I see," he says matter-of-factly, withdrawing his now very wet digits.
You turn your head away to blush, being read like an open book made your body burn with some embarrassment. Yet Ganondorf understood. He lifts your leg by your calf, pressing a kiss into the muscle there. "No worry, I'll give you everything you seek." He sits upright now, towering over your supine frame, a hand at each of your knees. You know what comes next, and though you tremble under him, there's a fire in those eyes of his that keeps you brave. Fingers descend upon his. He catches your gaze, doe-like and nervous, but no sign of withdrawal within them.
"You'll go slow, won't you?" you ask him, your heart mere seconds away from jumping out of your chest. There's an expectation for him to laugh at such an innocent, if not naïve question - but he surprises you when his hand takes your chin between two large fingers and keeps your eyes to his. Softness unlike you've ever seen in him stares back at you. "I wouldn't dream of bringing you harm, va'ina, you're safe with me." His words bring you comfort, allowing you shut your eyes in readied bliss. To reflect this, you spread your legs further apart, "Then I am yours, Ganondorf."
His lips find yours, hungry in its kiss. As his tongue melds against yours, he slips a hand down to grasp himself. You feel the slight shift of his body on yours, strong thighs flush to the backs of yours. He parts from the kiss, though his face remains close, "Ready?" Unable to trust your voice, you simply nod. His muscular frame surrounds your body, encasing you in his warmth. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you inhale sharply when he presses into you. Considerable length and girth stretch you far more than his fingers could even attempt. He's slow, methodical in his pace. So much so that he stops, just past the head of him, the second you tense in his arms.
"Breathe..." coaches Ganondorf, his voice showing the tiniest hint of strain. Though shaky, you try to follow his advice, and it calms your body enough for him to advance. Your mouth drops open from the pressure, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as another inch fills you. The man above pecks loving kisses to your face as he sneaks a hand downward. He revels in the pleased gasp you let out when his fingers stroke your sex, "That's it...open up for me..." With him steadily plunging into your depths and the deliberate tease of his hand at your most sensitive area, you recognize that same spark from earlier.
Want. Need.
He slides in further still, about at halfway down the whole of him now. His hand doesn't relent on your flesh, easing over you with the intent to build the ecstasy he knows you're absentmindedly chasing. Ganondorf has every intention to bring you to rapture, but again - at your pace. There's a tremor in your thighs that shakes against his hips, he gives you more of him; but the noise you let out this time is a moan muffled only by the barrier of your bitten lip. He grins at this, supply your body with just a bit more. No reaction this time - you were getting used to him. His fingers stroke you for a few more counts, this being just enough for you to take him all the way to the hilt. You keen slightly, so impossibly full and almost dizzy from how overwhelmingly large he feels inside of you.
"Stay with me, love" he whispers, his opposite thumb stroking your cheek. The deep octave of his voice and the tender caress soothe you enough to lean into his touch. Ganondorf captures your lips once more, this kiss slower than the last. His hips remain still though his tongue ravages your mouth, and it pulls a licentious moan from you; the knowledge of him locked deep inside you as he kisses you so fervently has you yearning for what you know you want most. His mouth moves into your neck, and without hesitation your fingers bury into his fiery mane. There's a slight withdrawal of his hips, and you welcome the feeling now, the minor shift of friction feeding into a feeling at the most basic level of your instincts.
"More," your quivered voice speaks in his ear, "P-Please."
He's touched at your politeness, though it's unnecessary. You are a being to be worshipped in this regard, though you didn't realize it, you would never need to beg from him. Touching his forehead to your own, Ganondorf rumbles deep in his chest, pulling almost all of the way out of you before sliding all the way back in. "Nnngh, yes..." Ah, all he needed to hear. Adept hands place themselves at two points: a fist near your head for steadying, and a hand bracing underneath your back to keep you there. Leisurely, shallow thrusts easily evolved into deep, harder strokes. Your body would transform - blossom from tightly wound and tense to fully open and wanting.
The Gerudo male knows you're fully spellbound by your lovemaking when your nails begin to bite into the muscle of his shoulder blades - a most welcome pinch of pain. He's fully working you into you now, his hips immovable pistons to fuck you fully now. Your sweet and soft moans were climbing in crescendo, his name tumbling in slurred syllables off your honey covered tongue. Unable to stop himself now, Ganondorf growled into the junction of your neck and shoulder, pulling your body as flush to him as he could.
"Ah, ohh, mmf! Ahhhh G-Gan," you whined, clinging to him, "My body's on fire...I nghh I...!"
He feels you tightening around him, his pants are harsh as they dampen your skin, "Let it happen...let me have all of you." With only a few strokes of him you fall apart in a scream, your body winding up impossibly tight and then loosening entirely. The orgasmic pulse of your slickness around him milks him with an ungodly grip. He fucks you as fast as your body will allow, a few resounding claps against your flesh combining with the cries of your slight overstimulation that finally bring him to his own end. His strong fingers dig into you as he cums, hot and fast, in a wildly indecent roar. Your hands hold him in his place on your body, welcoming every drop of the licentious liquid that he spills inside of you. His hips begin to slow, still sliding in and out of your now sopping hole, and though you were already long finished, you moan at the sensation of his cock pulsing and feeding your body even now.
When he finally can take no more, he pulls from you entirely in a rough grunt. You feel the weeping of his seed from your entrance, but you are far too exhausted to care. Your body hums in pleasured bliss, but your limbs, so worn from a use you'd yet to experience until today, feel akin to lead. Never an issue, however, as Ganondorf carefully maneuvers you both so you can rest comfortably: with you at his side. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your body in silence, your hand and head rest at his chest.
"Gan...?" your voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes lazily move to you. Your heart flutters with candid bravery, "...I love you."
He smiles at this. Fitting words for a connection as deep as this. His hand covers your head, pressing you closer to his chest in a protective maneuver. Ganondorf is anything but vulnerable...but even a man as mighty as he isn't incapable of feeling.
"You have my heart, va'ina. You are mine as I am yours."
You hum contentedly, happy to fall asleep in the arms of the man who loved you.
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sirfrogsworth · 2 months
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If there is a post discussing ableism there is a decent chance a disabled person is writing it.
I really appreciate the work this person did transcribing that post. I am always grateful when people make my work more accessible.
But I am really getting tired of defending myself on this.
My disability makes me very tired, reduces my concentration, and kills my willpower.
For a long time I thought that last thing was me being lazy. That's what my own father thought for a long time. And I was often scolded when I was younger for being lazy. And to this day I struggle with feeling depressed when I cannot be productive.
But willpower is a fickle thing and I do not believe it can be explained simply by calling people lazy.
I have nearly a thousand unfinished posts in my draft folder because I simply ran out of willpower to finish them.
Inspiration is fuel. Sometimes it is the only thing I have to overcome how tired I am and how hard it is to stay focused. And if I lose the inspiration to do something, there is a good chance I will not be able to finish it.
When I set out to create one of my typical high effort posts, the process looks roughly like this...
Research any topics I am unfamiliar with.
Gather any images I need.
Brainstorm what I want to write.
Write a first draft.
Write a second draft.
Write a third draft.
If there is humor in what I'm writing, I will do a joke pass.
Then I do a grammar check.
Then I do a grammar check.
Then I do a grammar check.
I keep doing grammar checks until I find no more mistakes.
Then I do a quick fact check and google anything I am not 100% certain is correct.
Then I do a polishing pass and address any formatting issues.
And if I get this far, I publish the post.
By the time I get to publishing I am usually very tired. I no longer have any ability to concentrate. And the willpower to put any more effort into the post is long gone.
It's not that I don't want to transcribe images. It's that I just don't have the willpower to do so.
It is just not feasible for me to go back and transcribe everything. I don't want my posts ending up with those thousand unfinished drafts.
There is also the matter of not knowing if my post will reach 10 people or 10,000 people. I can't justify using up all of that energy for 10 people. My energy is my most precious commodity. I have to be very careful how I use it.
Disabilities vary wildly and lately I have seen a lot of disabled folks struggle to see the world outside their particular limitations. And that is frustrating. If we are going to be a strong community and advocate for ourselves, we need to learn more about each other's needs and limitations.
I'm not saying this person intended to call me lazy. But, if I am being honest, reading this felt like those days of my dad calling me lazy and wishing I had a better work ethic like my brother. He was a great dad, but he was not perfect. Especially when I was younger and we didn't understand my health issues.
So before you criticize someone please try to consider if there is a legitimate reason to do so. Maybe look at their tumblr and read their bio. Or check out a few posts.
I can be too quick to judge. It's something I have to work on as well. But this is the last time I'm going to apologize for not doing extra labor on my posts.
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heartshapedbubble · 10 months
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hi !!! could i request bday hcs with norton and victor?? anything works!! you could do general hcs if youd like <3
hihi of course !! 💓
norton campbell and victor grantz birthday hcs🧲💌
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norton campbell🧲
not the best at throwing parties to be honest. never had one thrown for him, never threw one and was rarely invited to them. he never really celebrated his own birthday either
HOWEVER. since it's you in question he cannot go cheap
he's going to be avoiding you for some time as he's going to be busy digging ores and crystals to sell - organizing a birthday party is not exactly a cheap feat, and he needs to make sure everything goes perfectly, from the icing to the candle wax to the piñata (if you're up for it😎)
lacks a lot of those ""birthday skills""" such as baking a tasty cake and the ability to decorate well so he's going to go all out on your present at the very least
he likes gifting crystals and gems he finds - only the best one he could dig up for you, polished by hand - as he finds them to be a very versatile gift. don't like them? you can sell it! can't store them anywhere? no problem, for he'll simply commission a jeweler to make a custom piece out of it!
despite going all out for you he's quite indifferent about his own birthday, being happy even when it's just you and him and a birthday cake between you two. write him a sweet card and put some dollar bills between the paper to make this man's day
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victor grantz💌
oh victor is so tooth-achingly sweet when it comes to birthdays. bless his little heart fr
he loves throwing parties and has an amazing eye for decorations and aesthetic, and he would like to keep planning your party a private thing so it's just him who can hyperfocus on making it perfect
vic's the kind of guy that prefers doing everything by himself, from the gift - for him, the best gift is the one that will have special meaning for the receiver - to the birthday cake which he'll mix, bake and decorate all on his own. the fact that it's him who's picking out the most fitting aroma for the whipped cream, the color scheme and the tea flavor makes him feel so good. is it because of you or is it just because he loves organizing? both? he'll never know!!!!!!!!!!! 🤗🤗🤗
and obviously the best part of it all? THE BIRTHDAY CARD. i don't think i have to explain this one tbh just visualize his face impatiently watching yours light up as you read
vic strikes me as somebody who would force everyone to wear birthday hats including wick. just a thought tbh
as for his birthday he's quite humble about it!! just a small circle of people dear to him (obviously including you don't even DARE to not show up i will personally put you into a coma) and a lot of birthday letters just for him </33334 god bless viccy
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apoptoses · 2 months
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🚨 what do you think is the best and worst thing Armand ever did?
Oh anon strap in, this is gonna get heavy.
Disclaimer: this is my personal read, my own meta, everyone else is entitled to their own takes etc etc
We're gonna start with the worst: everything he did with Louis in iwtv.
Let me explain.
Something that is very common for survivors of trauma that was more psychological in nature and required betraying oneself in order to stay safe is to enter the fawn response. Aka people pleasing. Someone who has learned that they have to pretend to be someone else in order to keep others around them happy and keep themselves safe doesn't just shake that when the threat has ended. They then go on to feel as if they must do that in all future relationships in order to be loved and cared for, and if this goes unchecked then it can manifest into some really damaging behavior.
Things like lying about personal beliefs in order to tell the desired companion what the traumatized person thinks they want to hear, trying to control outcomes of certain situations in order for things to happen that they think will keep the desired companion with them. Someone who is people pleasing ends up saying "Yes I love the thing that you love" to one person, while saying deep down (or to another person) "I actually hate this thing so much".
And while it's understandable why someone who is people pleasing believes they have to act that way, it leads to their companion feeling manipulated when they find out that all the things that were said and done to 'please' them were untrue or done simply to control the situation and keep them around.
(And if it gets really out of control, subconscious behavior can become conscious acts of manipulation)
So with Louis we meet an Armand who says that he cares nothing for god, that if he met a mortal who inspired a lust for life in him once again he would turn that mortal immediately, that he would have turned Madeline himself. As readers we find out this isn't true later, that Armand struggles with his faith, that Armand would rather suffer anything than turn someone else into a vampire. But if we look at his words from a perspective of someone in a fawn response, he's saying those things because he believes that's what Louis needs to hear in order to accept his love and love him back.
And in more overt ways he forces Louis' hand with Madeline by using his influence, because Armand has decided it would be 'good' for Louis to turn her, that this will help him accept the loss of Claudia and come be with him. It's an act of controlling the situation to try to control for Armand's desired outcome (Louis loves me and will leave Claudia behind for me) but he's doing it under the people pleasing lie of 'this is what Louis needs, this is what will make him happy' when really it's about what will make Armand happy and safe. In that act subconscious fawning has become conscious manipulation.
While Armand's emotional detachment and lack of reaction to the burning of the theater and death of Denis is in many ways related to his self-admitted inability to feel anything at that time, there's also an aspect of fawning there: in order to people please one cannot offer their real feelings for fear of upsetting the companion. So really it just leads this situation where Louis doesn't know how Armand really feels about anything. He never shows Louis a moment of hurt or anger or outage, which we readers know he is capable of, because in order to feel safe and continue to 'please' he cannot let himself feel anything at all except that which his companion feels.
And that's why their relationship crumbles, because Louis is right: they cannot offer each other real love because Louis is mired in grief and Armand is incapable of being fully honest. He can't cultivate a true sense of self and show Louis that self because he's too swept in fawning for him and 'pleasing' him. Even when he and Louis break up he doesn't show his hurt, doesn't articulate having felt neglected. He just walks away, holds it all in, and fawns away his own feelings.
So that's why I think the best thing he did was that moment of sincerity with Daniel right before he turned him: admitting that he felt like a coward, and that he loved Daniel far too much to let him die.
In his explorations with Daniel Armand stops pleasing and swings to far other end of the spectrum for a time: he is so utterly absorbed in exploring the world and figuring out who he is and how he fits in that at times he doesn't consider Daniel's feelings much at all. But by the end of things when the running begins, he doesn't chase Daniel until Daniel calls for him. He becomes honest about his feelings and desires, despite the layers of shame he's heaped upon them. He stops detaching and fawning and gets real.
Which in the end is the key to him re-uniting with Louis and building a healthier relationship, creating his own home, opening the door to future reconciliation with Marius and having Daniel move back in with him. Armand had to learn to be himself fearlessly so that he would have genuine love to give.
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saintsenara · 2 months
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All Lupin ships:
Remadora
Wolfstar
Snupin
thank you very much for the ask, anon - and yes, i'd say that's the order i'd rank them in too...
remadora
i've spoken about this one here.
wolfstar
here.
snupin
i have read and enjoyed some snupin, but i certainly wouldn't go so far as to say it was a fave of mine.
and the reason for this is that i find that it so frequently misrepresents snape and lupin's dynamic - turning the fact that lupin canonically stays away from the more egregious bullying the marauders do against snape and canonically defends dumbledore's trust in him into evidence that he likes or respects snape, but was simply unable to restrain james and sirius' hatred of him while they were at school [something he regrets as an adult].
while this gets a couple of things right about lupin as a character - that he cannot bear to be the bad guy; that he is unfailingly loyal to dumbledore - it fails to showcase others, especially the fact that he has just as much capacity for cruelty as the other marauders [this is a man who's ready to murder wormtail in cold blood in front of three children literally seconds after learning he's still alive] but that the mask of meek affability he has created for himself hides this much better than james and sirius' "what you see is what you get" personalities.
and it therefore also fails to engage with the fact that snape is canonically terrified of lupin. i seem to see a lot in snupin the idea that snape is so rude to him - especially in prisoner of azkaban - because he doesn't want to acknowledge his feelings or let anyone close enough to see the real him, and while - yes - that's a way of behaving that suits snape to a tee, it's clear in the canon text that snape's treatment of lupin is actually caused by his belief that lupin was both in on the scheme to lure him to the shrieking shack and that lupin is aiding and abetting the man who killed lily in his attempt to kill harry. and it's also clear that lupin really quite enjoys the fact that snape is scared of him - and that he goes out of his way to engineer situations where he can needle snape and revel in his response.
[and it's also clear that when snape has more of a... vibe with someone, he's happy to get in their face. him coming round to grimmauld place to neg sirius about having to do housework and hide is very much giving "i love you"...]
and so i think you can just do something so toxic with snupin's canon dynamic - with snape being, essentially, hunted by lupin. you can have it be really messy, with a really interesting power-dynamic. you can have both men refusing to be honest about themselves and their history, even as it destroys the connection they've forged. you can even untangle years of resentment and tension and have it turn into something real.
and i much prefer those scenarios to remus being sweet and just wanting snape to share his chocolate.
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sgiandubh · 9 months
Text
Hitting a nerve, again
Dear @outlanderfandomfollies,
You took an extraordinary amount of time to lecture me on your blog with regard to one of my comments about the (in)famous funeral pictures. This deserves a reply and I hope you will understand it is done in good faith, although I cannot guarantee you that my answer will be devoid of irony. I am who I am, even if my opinions clearly vex you: I am sorry, but there is little I can do to accommodate you in that respect.
Fair enough, then. I took a stroll on your two blogs yesterday and I have to say I am underwhelmed. The thousands of words, the hundreds of pages, all that Taj Mahal of wisdom so liberally, relentlessly bestowed upon us, ignoramuses, was not enough to shake my beliefs. And pardon me the approximation: trying to make sense of what you wrote left such a strange aftertaste, that I did not pay enough attention to such details. Stupid me.
I have to say I was just starting to enjoy your very interesting interpretation of Jungian archetypes as applied to JAMMF. It did also remind me of Richard Campbell's Hero With A Thousand Faces, to be completely honest. I wanted more of that: a non-biased and personal interpretation of a beloved literary character. So, I am asking you in all honesty: why do your approach and your tone change, from professional to patronizing, when you deal with this side of the fandom, including me?
You present yourself as an independent blogger within the OL fandom. That, in my humble opinion, is a bias and a lie. There can be no independence in the current context of cold war, with the "truthers"' side bucketing out insults on a daily basis, with no prompting and no provocation from the shippers. You probably know as well as I do how the spiel works, via multiple spy sock accounts, anonymous submissions often sent to oneself and yes, rivers of "stupid shippers, idiot shippers". You also know and yet keep complete silence about it, that sensitive information is always exchanged in DMs and private groups, primarily out of respect for the people concerned (and also because that is none of your business, Antis).
Your very peculiar orientation is also something that ethically nags me. Independent, yet aligned. I find this fascinating, truly: it reminds me of an Eastern European tyrant's game of promoting himself for years to the West as aligned with the Soviets, yet independent from them. True story.
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In the side note at the end of your long (loooooong) intervention about a mere comment expressing an opinion, you write:
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I am asking you and I would appreciate a serious, well-researched answer (a girl can dream): exactly which boundaries did I (and I really mean I, Sgiandubh, not "shippers": that is very cheap rhetoric and I expected better from you) cross by simply expressing an opinion that disagreed with your POV?
For comparison purposes, an example of a very recent, supremely suave comment on one of the major Anti players' blogs. We never read any well-articulated protestations from you on those, ever: it is as if they do not exist. Heh. Talking about bias, when it's all about hiding the Antis' garbage under a skillfully woven carpet of scientific jargon:
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And since you love side notes and caveats and all the critical apparatus paraphernalia, let me be very clear: I blurred the blogger's name on purpose, and not by cowardice. I blurred it because it is perfectly irrelevant, in this context and at the same time, very representative of a certain dominating vibe, in your camp, about OL's male lead. Something I believe you, as an independent (let's not forget aligned) blogger, should have no trouble taking a strong stance about.
Oh, the stench of intolerance, from the same person who wrote this, in 2016, on her blog:
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Yes, yes. I know you also wrote your opinions changed with time and adventures along this long-winding, twisted road. Yet, I cannot help but thinking that a walk down this particular memory lane could bring more serenity and more clarity to your fandom endeavors.
I have no wish to attack you and I am not the insulting type, unlike some of your fellows. But I also do not need a laissez-passer sealed, stamped and delivered by you (with which authority?), in order to continue my journey. I would be very happy to settle on a non-aggression 'we agree to disagree' , keep calm and carry on common ground. At the very worst, I will simply ignore you and would be very grateful if you did the same. I simply feel I owe you absolutely nothing, including my time and attention.
Cordially yours,
Sgian-dubh, stupid shipper
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