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arsheyee · 2 months

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SMUT AHEAD KIDS BELOW 18 STAY OUT

Gojo x Y/N Morning in the Balcony

TW: sub gojo, exhibitionism kink, mommy kink

This is first time writing a sub smut.

I wrote this post for @15lyis balcony sex and sub gojo

I hope you like it and everyone will like it

Edit: Sorry about the mistakes in the writing I wrote it on my phone and blackout next thing I knew I had this and I posted it without thinking 🥲🥲

Can we take a minute to look at this cute blush man ❤️😩

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The sunlight peeked into the room from the small crack in the satin white curtains. It show directly on your eyes making you wince and rub them. The wind gently blew the curtains apart . A familiar silhouette stood in the sunlit balcony. You sat up on the bed holding the duvet covering your chest. Your perfectly styled hair was now a mess. You ran your hands through them to give them some shape. The clothes were scattered around the room like a trail of breadcrumbs making you smile and think about last night. You picked up the large grey T-shirt in front of you and your panties and walked towards that silhouette in the balcony.

Outside Gojo was sipping his morning coffee. You shiver as a gust of cold wind hits your warm body. You sigh at the coolness of the morning and walk towards your lover. He oblivious to the fact you have woken up jerks as you wrapped your hands around his waist.

“Oh my, that surprised me! Good morning sweetheart ❤️” He kissed you on your forehead turning himself to face you.

“Good morning handsome. Did you sleep well last night”

“Haha Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I had the best sleep yesterday.” He reminisced to yesterday looking in your eyes.

“Are you hungry baby?” He asked you

“Starved” you replied him rubbing your belly . He chuckled at your response and headed towards the kitchen. You stopped him by pulling his arm.

“What is it sweetie?” He questioned

“Can I be direct about this?” You warned him about what you were going to ask him.

“Baby you can tell me anything in this world” he reassured you

“I want to fuck you here”

“Here? Then let’s go to bed”

“No I mean I want to fuck here , in the balcony.”

His eyes widened at that statement and he blushed like crazy

“Baby everyone will see us”

“So, I am okay with that I want them to hear” you assertion surprised him even more.

You pulled his arm harshly and turned him around, pushed him of the chair beside you. He was still in shock and surprise by your dominant nature . Had sex awakened a new side of you that he isn’t aware of? Usually you are quite a cool headed person seeing you crave him turned him on in an instant.

You sat on his lap and removed your t shirt

You were naked in front of him. Your panties was the only fabric that separated your sexes. He is still staring at you, not out of that shock.

Baby? Are you okay? You asked concerned

He stuttered “ Y- Y- y- yes oh fuck baby you really want to do it here, in the day where everyone can see and hear everything?

“Yes didn’t you hear me saying I want you means I want you.” You spoke with utmost dominance

Gojo was tempted to call you mommy at this point.

You rubbed yourself on his semi hard dick, that you could feel through his flimsy synthetic short.

“Ahh fuck you seem to be getting bigger and bigger baby. Do you like me dominating you like this?” you moaned in his ear.

He literally almost came when you moaned in his ear. The whole scene was to hot for him. It would be a surprise if he didn’t faint by now.

You continue to rub him though his shorts kissing his neck, making him hum and moan occasionally. You kept saying such sinful things in his ear of how big he was and how you are going to put him in your pussy slowly just so he can watch you swallow his length. This was torture he couldn’t do anything because if he tried to touch you, you would stop his hands from touching you saying No touching, I am going to touch you but you can’t touch me. He was hard it was painful to hold it now. The friction was not enough even for you. As your slick gather up your panties stopped giving that friction you wanted.

You pulled his cock out of his pants and tugged on it.

“Offff baby baby please baby I really need to be inside you right now…” he was whining and panting for relief

“Do you now?” You teased him back

“Baby please “ he was so desperate to be inside to you at this point.

“Beg to me baby”

“Mommy please make me come already I want to make you happy by making you come too help me too please please mommy” he begged

Hmm let me think first why don’t you eat me out the we will see if I want to reward you or not.

You sat on the wooden table in front of the chair and spread your legs for him.

“Come on baby if you want to come you have to eat me out” you called him over .

He was drooling at the sight of your pussy wet and delicious for him. He got up from the chair and kneeled down so your dripping cunt was right in front of him.

His tongue slid over you, between every fold, lapping up your arousal as if it was the last meal he was ever going to have.

"Oh baby," You cried out as he began to swirl his tongue over your clit, sucking harshing as you jerked your hips up involuntarily. His toy hue went deeper inside you causing you to pull his hair. He sucked on your clit making you jerk up into his mouth causing his tongue to slip deeper. He took your labia in his much and began sucking on it, moving his tongue with precision over every inch of your sensitive flesh. He could never get enough of making you moan out the way that you were.

"Taste so fucking good, mommy." He moaned out causing you to squirm in his grasp, bucking against him.

"Look at you, eating mommy out. You love it down you eating mommy out?” He moaned in response to that

“Yes mom-“ you pushed him into you pussy muffling his words his tongue plunging in and out as you mercilessly pushed his head deeper into your pussy causing him to choke. You struggled to sit up straight as he ate you out good and speeding his head with your thighs.

He sped up his tongue. He then later added a finger in your pussy curling it upwards to hit your g-spot causing you to moan so loud people below might have heard you.

You squirted all over his face as your toes curled on his back.

Looking at him all wet from eating you out made you more horny. Beads of precum were already leaking from his dick. You could see it he was a sight that you wanted to burn in your eyes again and again.

“Ohh damn he looked so delicious right now.” you thought.

You pushed him back in the chair and shoved his hard and throbbing dick inside you.

“Good job baby Mommy will reward you for all your hard work”.

You started riding him hard and faster, clenching around him making him moan loudly that the neighbours could hear.

“Ah ah ah mommy mommy ahhh I’ll come

I am g-go-gonna come so h-ha-hard m-m-mommy ohhh fuckkkk“ he was moaning in between words.

Come baby come in mommy’s pussy I know you want it and you have earned it baby let mommy take care of you “ you said panting as you rode his cock.

You could feel him getting close

“You getting close baby ?

Come on come inside mommy I’ll allow it today just today…”

He choked as he came hard inside you after a couple of more thrusts. His cum leaked out of you as in came down and fell on the chair and his pants. Both you juices were mixed. You kissed him not roughly but passionately. After catching you breaths

“So mommy kink huh??” You chuckled at him asking him

“Stop baby you looked totally hot doing that” he blushed like crazy admitting it.

You guys looked in front and saw your neighbours looking at you both like they just saw a ghost.

“Well I guess one thing is for sure we aren’t doing this here again”

“Yes we aren’t” Gojo agreed looking at the neighbours hoping they won’t complain as you both walked inside shutting the door behind you.

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ramu-ego · 1 year

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(nsfw) BONDAGE :: x femdom!Reader

the first request of the new account should go to my beloved @kisa-rae so pls enjoy ♡ - askbox open cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, aged up, handjobs, bondage/bdsm themes word count: scenario headcanons character(s): multiple

DNI :: minors, blank blogs + m!Reader blogs

Shackled to the bed; spread, bound and tied with aching cock on display for you to smile as you drag your fingertip up the underside of his cock. Your meager motions bring out an almost animalistic groan to them. Paired with the twitch of their cock leaking an even fatter bead of precum down their shaft. As well as the pull against their bindings. He seems lost in the moment as the soccer player straddles pleasure and punishment, unable to do anything but take it as you set the rules the moment they were bound. "This excites you, doesn't it?" You tease as you take a polite seat on the edge of the bed. Giving him breadcrumbs of your attention only. First a hand on his thigh. Snaking it's way up until he finds you slowly jerking him off with one hand and the evilness of your other hand rubbing your palm over his slimy soaked slit, "Being tied down...at my mercy."

No answer aside from pinched brows lost in pleasure. But the leak of precum down his shaft as you pull away and watch his cock bounce up and down against his abs leaving stringy precum in its wake lets you know how much your cute boy loves these bindings.

Naruhaya, KUNIGAMI, Bachira, Isagi, BAROU, Hiori, Rin, RAICHI, Chigiri

"Look at you." Patronizing coo leaving your lips just as your fingertips drug down his chest. Each muscle tensing where your fingers once were. The very detail in his chest flexing as he kept his hands above his head just as you'd instructed, "Such a good boy."

Hands linked behind his head. The only thing he needed was your words to keep those limbs at bay. You could pepper every inch of him in affection and torture knowing he'd never break from your command.

"Keep 'em off, you hear me?" Your words more than any leather strap or satin tie could ever do.

As a reward for such obedience you couldn't help run your hands down his chest. Feeling the muscles twitch and tense under you. Leading you right to your favorite thing. Gently cupping his sensitive balls with one hand, encircling your fingers at the base of his cock with the other. Leaning over with tits on display as you slowly began jerking him off. Poor leaking red tip begging to be sucked, licked or fucked. Your only reward for such obedient behavior was your hands pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Knowing though if his hands stayed where you told them to be. A bigger reward was on it's way.

GAGAMARU, Niko, Nagi, REO, Kenyu, Kunigami, Kurona

It was pointless. Leathers, satins, metal, spread bars, bed post ties and anything else you could slip on his limbs weren't useful. The monster would consume in the worst way possible. One touch down his chest even and it was like you could only ride the waves of your needy boy.

Groping, tasting, squeezing and needing more his hands would and could wander all over you. Swearing he was pathetic enough to cum from a simple handsy make out session like this. You knew it only heightened the experience to let him feel out his own instincts under your guidance.

"Good, huh baby?" You squeezed your fist up his cock slowly. Clear precum leaking from his tip as you continued to milk him. Slathering his own juices all over him once more so your fist could slide up and down even easier, "Jeesh, you're so wet."

Muffled agreement when his mouth was full of your tit. Sucking and swirling his tongue around your hard bud as his hands roamed over your body. Tits, hips and ass all available for him to squeeze until your flesh dimpled under his touch. He'd need you to get him off. Too pathetic with his own needs the greedy fool could never keep his hands to himself the second you touched him.

ISAGI, Barou, KENYU, Sae, Reo

#:: request filled~! ✩#bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin smut #nagi seishiro smut #reo mikage smut #isagi yoichi smut #itoshi sae smut #bachira meguru smut #chigiri hyoma smut #baro shoei smut #kunigami rensuke smut #gagamaru gin smut #kenyu yukimiya smut

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ktwritesstuff · 2 years

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Kashmir (a stranger things fanfic)

Title: Kashmir Fandom: Stranger Things Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Eddie x plus-size femme reader Word Count: ~5000 Summary: First time with Eddie. Lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl. Additional notes, tropes, and content warning below the cut.

Notes: Our beloved Eddie was taken from us too soon (and in my personal opinion a victim of regular old bad writing). I could not sit idly by and let our boy die a virgin so here you have it: a soft and sensual first time fic; explicit but not too kinky. Tropes & Content Warnings: anti-fatness (alluded to,) first time, love bites, oral (cunnilingus,) orgasm denial, p-in-v, thigh-riding, witchy shit

Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face / And stars fill my dream I'm a traveler of both time and space / To be where I have been

You assumed–perhaps naively–that Eddie kept a condom in his wallet for the same reason you always carried a tampon: because you never know. That was really the theme of the year, after all.

Like that guy Billy Hargrove–an absolute Neanderthal for the short time you had known him–dying last summer saving a bunch of kids from that horrific Starcourt Mall fire, which was both utterly tragic and completely fucking weird. But all the more reason to seize the day–life was short–and you wanted to lay down your v-card before it was too late.

You and Eddie had been “official” for almost a year. Even longer if you counted the time you made out in Reefer Rick’s boathouse when the whole Hellfire Club tried acid after Eddie failed his senior year the first go-round. (Eddie usually did, but you insisted the relationship actually started when he finally asked you on a proper date.) Even though you didn’t know what would happen after graduating, you trusted Eddie more than anyone; it just felt right.

There was a lunar eclipse coming–a blood moon–Eddie promised to take you to an out-of-the-way spot he knew where you could moon-gaze in peace. You had read every pulp romance in the library; you were as ready as you’d ever be. This was your moment. You hadn’t told Eddie explicitly that you had christened him The Chosen One to finally divest you of your maidenhead, but you had certainly left him a trail of breadcrumbs.

Last week when you snuck out to the picnic table in the woods behind the football field between periods to make out. You hiked up your skirt and straddled his thigh, grinding against him and moaning in his ear as he peppered your neck with kisses and gentle love-bites.

“Feels good, mama?” Eddie murmured in your ear. You panted something approximating agreement as you rocked against him.

Eddie had one hand on your back, the other gripping the meat of your ass–you could feel his rings leaving indents in your soft skin. Their mate was safely nestled between your breasts, hanging from the leather chord you wore around your neck. You probably could have worn it on a finger, Eddie’s fingers weren’t much bigger than yours, but wearing it around your neck felt more feminine and special.

You sealed your mouth over his. You could feel his hard on pressing against your leg where it was tucked between his and traced circles against him with your knee to see how far he’d let you go.

“Careful,” he warned, patting your leg between soft, wet kisses. “If I cream my pants, I’m gonna miss Zelinsky’s big test and wouldn’t it be tragic for me to be cramming for my GED next year without you.”

You sighed, sitting back, making some space between your bodies. Eddie laughed, noticing the dark patch you had left in the torn denim of his jeans.

“Are you marking your territory?”

You grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket, pulling him closer with a sharp tug. A growl rumbled in your chest as you snapped at him, baring your teeth like a wild thing.

“Point taken,” Eddie cleared his throat. “Left leg. All yours.”

On the big night, you left your parents a vague note that you were staying over with a friend and Eddie picked you up in his beat up Chevy van. After a quick stop for gas and snacks, the two of you drove just outside of Hawkins, up the big hill overlooking Lover’s Lake. For a spot that was mostly used for drug deals, it was actually kind of nice.

Eddie cut off the lights but left the radio on as you opened the back doors of the van, spreading the quilt you had brought out in the back where the bench seats had been unceremoniously ripped out to make room for amps and other equipment for Eddie’s band.

“So when’s this party getting started?” Eddie asked, looking up at the sky with his hands on his hips.

“We won’t be able to see the total eclipse in this part of the world,” you explained, taking a seat in the back of the van.

“The Farmer’s Almanac said the moon would be entering umbra around 1 AM our time. That’s when we’ll start to see the shadow. As long as these clouds don’t get in the way.”

“We’ve got some time to kill, then,” Eddie said.

He slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders like a cape before sitting down beside you on the bumper. You turned your face into the lapel of the jacket, breathing in the comfortable, familiar scent. Eddie always smelled faintly of pot and the vanilla extract he dabbed on his wrists to try to cover it up mixed with old leather and clove cigarettes.

At least the stuff he smoked smelled a hell of a lot better than the shit he sold the ramp rats who always stank up the stairwell behind the art room.

You had tried pot a couple of times, but it always seemed to make you more anxious instead of less. Apparently different strains worked better for different people, but at the end of the day you figured it wasn’t worth burning your throat all to shit to find the right one. Eddie had offered to make edibles, just as soon as Wayne fixed their oven, but you both knew that was never going to happen.

“You can smoke if you want,” you said. “I don’t mind.”

Eddie shrugged, leaning back on his elbows, legs swinging off the back of the van. He reached over to brush his fingertips up your arm.

“I’m always high when I’m with you.”

You rolled your eyes and Eddie cracked a smile.

“Cheese-ball.”

You found your Twizzlers in the convenience store bag and tore open the package. You pinned one between your teeth, letting it hang from the corner of your mouth. Eddie chomped at the air beside your face, trying to catch the long end of the Twizzler while you nibbled it to a smaller and smaller nub. You giggled as his efforts became more exaggerated and ridiculous. As you sucked the last piece between your lips, Eddie gave you a soft kiss and put his arm around you.

You weren’t afraid anymore to say you were built like the noble hobbits, who valued good food and good cheer above recognition and hoarded wealth. Eddie was taller–but not too tall–all long limbs and sharp angles. He wore mostly dark colors–heavy jackets and metal jewelry and, while you had certainly relieved him of a few of his more comfortable t-shirts, you still tended to favor a softer look: colorful crystals, lacy shawls, and long skirts in earth-toned florals. And yet somehow you always fit together: the town freak and the village witch.

“Did you bring your cards?” Eddie asked, leaning back on his elbows.

“Always,” you replied, digging through your bag for your tarot cards wrapped in silk organza. You had carried them everywhere since the day Eddie had given them to you.

You shuffled them deftly, which had taken a great deal of practice for your small hands, and held the deck out to Eddie with one hand.

“Cut.”

Eddie ran his fingers down the gilded edges of the deck lifting up a stack of cards, holding the bottom card up to face you. A horned winged figure crouched over a man and woman–who bore a passing resemblance to the Lovers–in chains. You rolled your eyes. The Devil.

“I know this guy,” Eddie said, holding the card up to his face and sticking out his tongue. “You can really see the family resemblance.”

“Stop it,” you nudged his shoulder playfully. “The Devil represents the dark parts of our psyche–the things we’re taught to reject or hate about ourselves. If you try to hide it or push it down, you get stuck, you feel trapped, but if you learn to work with it, you bring your shadow back into the fold.”

You took the cards from Eddie’s hand and began to re-shuffle.

“Is that what they teach you in witch school?” Eddie asked.

“Carl Jung,” you frowned. “You really did bomb Zelinsky’s test, didn’t you?”

“D+” Eddie rolled his eyes back in his head. “Would have done better if I wasn’t so distracted.”

Eddie bushed your hair behind your ear and kissed your neck as you shuffled.

You stopped when your intuition told you it was time and lifted the top card off the deck. Another of the major arcana, number 13: Death. This time Eddie burst into laughter.

“What the fuck is wrong with us,” he said, leaning into you.

“Nothing,” you said. “It’s not literally Death. It’s about change, transformation, letting something go, so something else can take its place. I love this card.”

You held the card out in the hazy moonlight, your other hand still resting on Eddie’s head as he leaned his cheek against your bare arm. You loved being this close to him.

“You know in D&D, when you have to choose between two paths–the party can’t decide so you flip a coin. When you see it lands on heads or tails there’s a split second where you feel excited or disappointed and you suddenly know what you wanted to do all along. It’s the same thing with tarot. How does it make you feel? And what are you going to do about it? The magic is inside you.”

Eddie plucked the card from between your fingers and replaced it on the top of the deck as he pressed his mouth close to your ear.

“What if I already know what I want,” he murmured.

From the front of the van an unmistakable guitar riff thrummed through the speakers as Robert Plant crooned.

You liked Eddie’s music, though you were still pretty far from a bona fide metal-head, given that you considered Stevie Nicks a personal style icon and had Rumours on repeat every day after school since 5th grade. Still, there was something undeniable about the electric crescendo of guitars and bass that you could feel tugging in your chest.

You placed a hand on Eddie’s head as he kneaded your breasts, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat.

“Hey Eddie,” you said, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. “Eddie.”

He paused, looking up at you, his eyes a little glassy. You waited for them to focus on your face.

“Do you want to have sex?”

Eddie blinked, sitting up with a jolt. “Wait, seriously? Right now?”

“Yeah,” you stammered. “I mean, not if you don’t want to. I just thought–”

Eddie raked a hand through his hair, making part of his fringe stand on end. His formerly languid limbs now vibrating at attention.

“No, I want to,” he said. “It’s just…I’ve never…actually gone all the way before.”

“Oh,” your lips parted with a sigh.

You were surprised, but not shocked. Eddie had been your best friend since freshman year; if there had been someone before you, you probably would have heard about it. You had put ‘older and more experienced’ on your ‘Pros' list when weighing your options, but now that you were confronted with an alternative, you thought it being both your first times made it even more special.

“Me, too,” you added, encouragingly

“Yeah,” Eddie said, sitting back on his heels, shrinking into himself. “It’s different for guys, though. Don’t you think? I might be bad at it.”

Eddie didn't show vulnerability easily; he was all hard on the outside, soft on the inside. There was something special about him admitting to being unsure. It made you feel even closer to him.

“You masturbate, right?” you said.

“That’s a little different, babe,” he said.

“Yeah, but what do you imagine doing?”

A blush was rising up under the collar of his shirt, turning his ears beet red.

“Do you think about me?” you prompted.

A little muscle in Eddie’s jaw twitched; that was a yes.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you slid your fingertips down his arm. “I want to know. What do you think about?”

Eddie crossed his arms, looking out the darkened window. You reached out to touch his face, coaxing his gaze back toward you.

“That we’re in love,” he said. “Some place nice–not in my shitty van. That I make you feel good.”

“Oh, Edders,” you took threw your arms around him. “You really are the sweetest. I’m happy being here with you–that’s what matters. And if you want to make me feel good, I can show you how to do that.”

You reached up your long skirt, shimmying out of your underwear and tossing them aside. Eddie moved between your legs as you laid back on the quilt, supporting yourself on your elbows. He slid his hands up your legs, gathering your skirt up over your knees. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked down. He looked so thoughtful and serious; you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” he said, leaning over, pressing his face close to yours. “I’m just taking it in. I fuck this up, I might not get a second chance.”

You could feel his breath on your skin. You knew Eddie well enough to understand that he was just as hungry for approval and reassurance as everyone else. You took his chin in your hand.

“Eddie,” you said. “I want this. I want you. And the only way we’re gonna get good at this is if we practice, right?”

Eddie softened against you.

“Here, give me your hand.”

You moved his hand between your thighs, guiding his fingertips between your soft folds to the bundle of nerves at the hood of your clitoris.

“Right here,” you said. “Make circles right here.”

You sucked in a ragged breath as Eddie traced his fingertips around your clit in slow, careful circles, guitar-string calluses rough against the sensitive nub.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

You nodded with a soft moan.

“Feels good,” you breathed. “A little more.”

Eddie nodded, biting his lip in concentration, pressing a little harder, a little faster. You put your arms around him, moving your hands across his back.

“Just like that,” you said, arching into him. “Don’t stop.”

Eddie relaxed. His nimble fingers kept up the rhythm as he returned his attention to kissing you under the ear, down your neck. His free hand slipped under your shirt, sliding up your belly, squeezing the roll of flesh padding your side ribs.

While the tension coiled like a serpent in your low belly, you did your best to unbuckle Eddie’s belt and open his jeans with shaking hands.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, catching your hand before you could shove it down the front of his underwear. “Can I go down on you?”

You blinked hard, considering the proposition.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m willing if you are,” Eddie said, punctuating each phrase with kisses across your collarbones. He paused to look you dead in the eye.

“I want to know how you taste.”

“Shit; yes!” you gasped, perhaps a little too enthusiastic.

Your breath hitched in anticipation as Eddie slid back, lifting your ankles as you settled onto your back.

“There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home,” Eddie chanted, tapping your ankles together above your head.

“Eddie!” You shrieked with laughter. “Focus!”

“I am shutting right up,” Eddie agreed, hitching your knees over his shoulders as he lowered himself down between your legs.

He pushed your shirt up under your breasts, placing a trail of kisses across your belly.

“Shit,” you gasped as he dipped his tongue into your naval. “That feels weird.”

Eddie paused, resting his chin on your belly as he looked up at you with his giant chocolate-brown eyes. “Do we like weird?”

“I think so,” you nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder, steadying yourself. “It’s kind of intense, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“I will,” you said. “You too?”

Eddie nodded, pushing himself up enough to kiss the inside of your knee. His mouth traveled down, opening his lips to press his teeth against your thigh. His eyes flickered to your face to see if you would protest before he bit down, not hard, but enough to leave an impression in the delicate skin.

You closed your eyes and took a breath. Eddie’s van smelled like stale beer and sweat mixed with Tide detergent and your mother’s Calvin Klein perfume still lingering on your old quilt. Your heart was pounding; it felt like there was electricity buzzing under your skin. It was all too intoxicating.

Eddie brushed his fingertips along your tiger-stripe stretch marks, holding your hips with his face pressed against your groin, his mouth open, his tongue trailing hot and wet across the underside of your belly, moving lower and lower.

You reached your hands down his back, feeling his ribcage lift with each inhale. You gasped as he pressed his tongue into you and barely managed to stop yourself from accidentally boxing his ears with your thighs.

“Holy shit,” you sighed, running your fingers through Eddie’s hair to ground yourself back into your body .

You could feel his nose pressed up against your clit as his tongue explored your opening, tentatively at first. You resisted the urge to pull on his head, needing more.

“Can you–um–make your tongue wider?” You panted. You knew it wasn’t much of an instruction, but the sensation changed as Eddie followed your lead. “And more up and down.”

Eddie hummed an affirmation as his tongue trailed up the expanse of your vulva as you saw stars.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your head falling back against Eddie’s leather jacket, still bunched up under your head. “Don’t stop.”

Eddie placed one hand over yours where they were still tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Sorry!” You loosened your grip, but he wrapped his fingers around yours, closing them tighter.

“Okay,” you agreed, tugging gently. “Say when?”

You pushed Eddie’s head a little harder against you, carefully watching for signs that he was ready to tap out. Just when you were having serious concerns over how hard Eddie’s nose was pressed against your pelvic bone, he lifted his other hand to give you a thumbs up. His tongue moved in long steady strokes over your clit.

The sensation was incredible. Even better than you imagined; somehow relaxed and vibrant all at once; the knot of energy coiling tighter and tighter at the base of your spine.

“Eddie,” you moaned. “God, that’s good, Eddie.”

“Say that again,” Eddie said, extracting himself from the dense brush padding your mons just enough to be audible.

You smiled to yourself.

“Eddie,” you called, louder this time, your toes curled in excitement. “I’m close, Eddie. So fucking close.”

Eddie hummed against you, sending warm vibrations up the length of your spine. You squeezed your eyes closed; red sparkles danced behind your eyelids.

“Fuck! Eddie!” You let out a long sigh as the bundle of energy in the deepest part of your core finally unfurled.

Eddie popped up from between your thighs like a daisy. His hair was sticking out at odd angles, a tangled mane around his face; his mouth and chin glistening in the dim light.

“Did I get it?” he asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“You definitely got it,” you assured him with a laugh, realizing his button nose was bright red and still a little squished.

“First try!” Eddie pumped his fist triumphantly.

“Come here,” you ordered, grabbing a fist-full of his shirt to pull him up, pressing your mouth over his.

It was a little surreal, tasting your own salty-sourness on Eddie’s lips and in his mouth. You felt hot and swollen and wild and strange.

“I want to do you,” you said, grabbing the waistband of Eddie’s Levis. “Can I?”

“It’s, uh, kind of a one-and-done thing on my end,” Eddie cleared his throat. “At least it takes a bit to get warmed back up for the encore.”

“How long do you think?” you asked, rooting the convenience store bag for a can of soda, cracking it open and taking a long drink to cool your throat.

“Half hour,” Eddie said. “Maybe a little more.”

You paused to consider. It really wasn’t that long, after all, you had planned a whole night of star-gazing, but you didn’t want to wait. You felt ravenous.

“Thirsty?” You held your drink out to Eddie.

“Yes, please.”

Eddie took the soda and gulped it down, tossing the empty can aside.

“Okay,” you sat up, brushing your sweat-damp hair off your face. “Do you have a condom?”

Eddie nodded

“I think we should do it,” you said. “All the way, right? Let’s just fucking do it.”

It seemed strange to tip-toe around the words now. But what were you supposed to call it “real sex?” As though what Eddie had just done to you, for you didn’t count?

“I think I’m ready. I want you inside me. I’m fucking soaked,” you said. “Do you need me to do anything for you?”

“You’ve done enough,” Eddie said, pulling you into him by the neck and kissing you hard.

You giggled against his lips as he toed off his shoes, letting them fall to the ground outside the van doors.

“She’s laughing,” Eddie said, sliding out of his jeans. “I’m taking off my pants and she’s fucking laughing.”

“I’m happy,” you said. “I’m laughing because I’m happy!”

Eddie fished his wallet out of his now discarded pants, digging through it for a foil wrapped condom.

“It’s been a good run, buddy,” he announced, tearing it open with his teeth. “It’s your time.”

Eddie slid his checkered boxers down past his knees to roll on the condom and you stopped to look. Without much to compare it to, he seemed a respectable size. Not huge, but that was quite alright with you. From what you knew about trying to work more than three fingers inside yourself, you had never understood the girls in the locker room proudly declaring that their boyfriends were hung like horses.

Eddie was your Goldilocks, always just right.

“Like what you see,” Eddie noticed you watching and pulled a face, hands on his hips, erection bobbing. “I have to say it’s a titty bit nipply.”

With anyone but Eddie, you’d be horrified by the showboating and spectacle, but Eddie made everything easier.

“Can I be on top?” you said.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “You got it.”

Eddie exchanged places with you, laying down on the blanket. Despite his bravado, you could feel him tremble a little as you knelt over him.

You freed your top from where it was tangled up under your boobs and pulled it off over your head.

Eddie rested his hands on your thighs, stroking them lightly. He sighed as you unhooked your bra, sliding the straps off your shoulders and setting it aside.

“Best seat in the house.”

Eddie slipped his little finger through the ring hanging from your necklace and tugged gently, guiding you down into another long kiss. His tongue moving against yours, exploring the roof of your mouth and the insides of your cheeks.

You reached down between your bodies. Eddie gasped as your fingers found his cock under the draped fabric of your skirt. You bit your lip in concentration as you guided him to your entrance and slowly lowered yourself down.

You stopped, feeling a sharp tug. Your muscles clenched. You gripped the back of the driver’s seat with one hand and took a deep breath, willing your pelvic floor to relax.

“Here,” you ordered, grabbing one of Eddie’s hands and placing it on your breast. “Touch me here.”

Eddie let out a low moan, his face scrunched up, cute little wrinkles creasing his nose as he palmed your breasts.

You moved Eddie’s hands as if they were your own, no performance or hesitation, guiding them over your breasts, your throat, your stomach.

It felt strange, reveling in being touched on the parts of your body you had always been told you should be ashamed of. But it was impossible to be ashamed with Eddie. He never expected you to be quite or make yourself smaller. He always made enough space for you to be fully yourself.

You lowered your own hands to Eddie’s chest, comforted by the warmth of his body. You sank a little deeper. You felt tremendous relief when you realized your weight was resting fully on Eddie’s hips. No pain, just firm pressure, verging on discomfort, but still somehow pleasurable.

“Is that good?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty fucking good,” Eddie stammered.

You walked your hands up from Eddie’s chest, placing them beside his head, leaning over him.

“You like it?” you asked.

Eddie nodded, biting his lip, pressing his face into the soft skin of your breasts. You whimpered softly as he traced circles around your nipples with his thumbs.

“You?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Feels kind of…full or stretched. I think I just need a second.”

“You take all the time you need, babe,” Eddie said, his voice sounding tight, like after smoking too many cigarettes.

As you felt the tension of your inner walls release a little more, you walked your hands back toward your knees, experimenting with lifting your hips and lowering them back down. It felt new and exciting, but didn’t measure up to the wave of arousal you had felt with Eddie’s tongue on your clit.

“Shit,” Eddie ran his hands down your body, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

Emboldened, you lifted yourself up, moving toward standing on your knees and dropped yourself back down.

“Christ, that’s good,” Eddie gasped.

Eddie pressed his eyes closed, as you moved against him. You felt a sudden wave of gratitude for your own body and the pleasure it could feel; the pleasure it could give.

You laughed, body pitching forward. You noticed a phenomenal gripping sensation as you rocked your hips forward and back. Like grinding against his thigh in the woods, but deeper, more of a push than in and out.

You had taken months to prepare for this moment. You had read every book you could get your hands on and eavesdropped outside the girls’ locker room before cheer practice.

Hell, you had even loitered outside Family Video for an hour waiting for Steve fucking Harrington to take his break so you could sneak into the adult section of the store. Robin had given you the side-eye–you couldn’t really blame her–but she was no narc.

You thought if you had all the information you would know what to do, but now that you had found your rhythm, you found yourself relying on pure instinct.

“I’m close,” Eddie warned.

“Not yet,” you whimpered, feeling the tension building deep in your core. “Not yet.”

Judging from the look on Eddie’s face, your pleading was not helping the situation. Just when you were certain he couldn’t wait for you any longer you reached between your bodies, pressing your thumb hard into the base of his shaft just above the balls.

“Fuck!” Eddie shouted. Loud. “What kind of Jedi mind trick was that?”

You were worried you might have hurt him, but Eddie’s good-natured teasing put you at ease.

“Patience is a virtue,” you offered him a polite grimace.

Having bought a few more minutes, you shifted your weight forward, lowering yourself down. Eddie ran his hands up your back, placing one hand on the back of your head, moving the other to hold your face as he bucked his hips up into you with slow but insistent strokes.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he panted.

You whimpered, digging your nails into Eddie’s shoulders. You could feel the tension unfolding inside you as your inner walls clenched around Eddie’s shaft.

“That’s it,” you sighed, riding him through the sensation. “You feel amazing.”

Eddie’s face scrunched as he reached his own unimpeded climax with a deep moan that you could feel deep in your core.

Your body felt supple and relaxed as you rolled over to lie down beside Eddie. The breeze coming from the lake felt cool against your sweat-damp skin and carried the smell of wet grass and pine resin.

“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” Eddie panted, turning his head to meet your gaze. “Cause I’m pretty sure I just saw God.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, smacking his arm gently. Eddie chuckled.

“You’re like a sex prodigy,” he said, turning onto his side.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you said.

Eddie put his hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze. Just outside the sky was still overcast, but the moon entering umbra cast the earth in a pinkish glow.

Eddie took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Hey,” Eddie said. “You know I love you, right?”

You nodded. “I know.”

#stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #fix it fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut

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enneamage · 20 days

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hi Mage, I found this thread floating on main and I remember this was a point of discussion in your blog some time ago. I wanted to ask if you have any updated insights? https://twitter.com/S1R3NH3AD/status/1770146250446229612

The dynamic I would describe that played out would be Wilbur says ambiguous thing about “you aromantics need to read my lyrics” -> it is taken that the songs were written with Aro intent -> a slew of very happy Aros start to connect dots (+ truthers who wanted to know what was going on in general like moi) -> Wilbur keeps the ball rolling because he seems to have stumbled into something that works. Still bait-y, but I don’t think he started it on purpose as much as held still and let people project what was convenient onto him with some breadcrumbs to keep it going.

Under-represented identities can sometimes get eager to see any hint of themselves in the world through other people. I’m sympathetic to it, it happens in the asexual community as well– you want to see people living the life that resonates with you in a world that does not make sense, so you try to find them.

I think this is a smaller facet for a much bigger sense of utter betrayal, because in the end Wilbur managed to turn out to be the opposite of a lot of what people took him to stand for. He was supposed to be more moral and just a better, more self-aware man than the minecraft youtuber stereotype, and there he goes setting a record low for bad behavior. Everyone is processing their own pain for realizing that what they invested in him was false.

#my last aro-themes post was like minutes before I got the news of shelby's stream #which naturally shifted the tone by a lot #because the world she painted kind of showed a man who has Reality Problems and cannot stick to a story #and who knows what that means for his ability to introspect #gen wlbr tag

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snifflesthemouse · 2 years

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THAT BP REPORT…

When this author heard of the recent news regarding the bullying report, IT WAS ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS!

You see, the worst thing one can do to a manipulator is to silence them. A con man cannot con if he cannot speak. Neither can an ex-royal couple looking for Netflix content and Spotify fodder.

Remember when I explained how con artists constantly need to create scenarios to keep conning? How they use things to drop breadcrumbs so that their cons seem legit? Blatant lies that have no purpose, other than to manipulate or deceive?

It’s just like the story about Ellen and the dog. Meghan used that line many times to many different people. So, when it gets back to Ellen… the trademarked nicest person on the planet… one could assume no issue. But, Ellen isn’t what she seems.

You see, Ellen even said on her show what her price was. She told her the price was an invitation to her wedding. She said on her own show to Meghan “how about an invitation to your wedding?”

But instead, that invitation went to someone higher on the list than Ellen. Oprah. And when Harry and Meghan quit royal life and ran to Canada, and then to LA… who did they give their first interview to? Oprah.

Now, think back to the Ellen interview. One of the first things she says to Meghan is that she hasn’t done an interview in like a decade. But her last real substantive interview was with her husband and Oprah. Before Ellen, her biggest interview was with O.

Oprah got the invite and the interview. Ellen got used for a story that made Meghan seem more famous than she was. And she clearly got her revenge.

But you can see my example. She used these breadcrumbs to create this narrative that she then used to benefit from. These are used constantly and all the time by scammers.

Even if it seems completely pointless, these breadcrumbs will usually only show themselves whenever the con is exposed. It is hard to pick up and connect every little lie.

Let’s look at another example that didn’t pan out as great for Meghan. Remember the whole story about writing Hilary as a kid? The soap commercial. You all know it. The purpose of all these celebrity interactions between Meghan and people way more famous than she was – or is – is to get her foot in the door. The problem is when those people decide they are tired of being used. Like Ellen. The bigger issue is when nothing of real substance comes from it at all.

A lot of time, energy, and thought goes into creating lies out of thin air that materialize into something of trade value.

Which goes back to the whole purpose of the Oprah interview. She was dropping breadcrumbs for when or if she ever needs them. It’s not just the potential plans for divorce or reconciliation with her father or whatever political aspirations. It’s just throwing out lies that have potential.

Some would argue the point that it takes a lot of thought and a lot of intelligence to do this. All it takes, however, is the ability to lie to the people you love the most. All it takes, all you really need to have to con people, is the ability to suppress your conscious.

Being intelligent only makes it more efficient.

Breadcrumbs are the real currency. They become the cons – the silk for which the web is weaved. They are seeds that will not grow. Or if they’re ignored – like with the Clinton thing- they become waste that gets tossed aside. It becomes more of a liability.

The key isn’t fooling people into believing you. It’s convincing them to believe you when they know better. The easy marks aren’t where the work lies. It’s lying directly to someone and them nodding with you even though they know better.

With the interview, she essentially could say whatever she wanted because she knew the Palace would only say so much. She knew they’d never indulge past three or four paragraphs. She had freedom to run. And she did to Oprah the same she did to Ellen.

And now, Buckingham Palace is giving Meghan a taste of her own medicine.

Never releasing the report – but admitting to having to make changes – essentially is doing the same thing to her. She can say or do whatever she wants, but they know she won’t even touch the topic. Remember, they think they’ve set up their own royal household in the U.S. Probably even used it as an example to Prince Charles so that he would become convinced they should come back and have their own official household.

I suspect after HMTQEII passes, she will do everything she can to get back into the royal fold. Truth be told, she probably has been since shortly after leaving. I have a sneaking suspicion Harry is the one who wanted to run away from his royal family. She saw an opportunity and took it.

Had BP released it, they would have acknowledged her tens of pages of counterclaims to the Independent article. She would have to reply, and then she would be given a platform to breadcrumb drop. They snuffed her out while affording change that would protect future employees.

Fire only burns when there is 85% oxygen for combustion. Cons can only con when they can create reality out of words and lies.

I know all these things from experience as a recovering addict. I have lived this. I have been taught this from the very worst of the worst. That relationship ended in only the worst pains you could imagine. My ex literally got away with murder. One day I will tell you that story. If I ever get brave enough to…

For now, I must go do spreadsheets and Excel work while Hot in Cleveland plays in the background.

Sometimes I wonder if I should shift this blog from Meghan and Harry to teaching people how to spot con artists and drug addiction. Other times I wonder if I should close down shop.

The best feeling about this space is all of you. Knowing there are over 800 people that care about my words is a great feeling. You deserve the best I can give you, and I hope to meet that expectation.

Good night, and God bless you all!

P.S. And for any of you who read simply to criticize, you deserve something of substance to tear apart. I hate wasting time, and even if it is to tear down… it better be worth destroying.

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unironicallycringe · 1 year

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I just feel like rambling because I need a distraction 🤔

Here's some D&D/Larp talk!

So as I often reference, I did a lot of Larp and used to be a Story Director for a short time before health and life got real tough. But oh I love love love the things I learned there!

One of those things was referred to as Seeding Plot. I'm sure it's referred to as different things in the writing world, but that's just the larp terminology for how I learned it hands-on. It's very similar to how you'd deliver story in a TTRPG like D&D.

Let's say I have an overarching story where a cult is sacrificing people to a creature which they regard as God (iykyk). Now, most of that is a mystery to my players: I want them to work together to unearth this mystery, because that's the fun of the game. I don't want to simply send out a single module (an interactive scene) in which the cult monologues about their full intentions. Maybe that's useful for a different story, but certainly not for one where that topic is the crux of the mystery.

So I build slowly around and to it instead. I start with the context-less effects before the cause. Maybe there's a neighboring town which is experiencing disappearances 🌱. Well, that's intriguing! That's an urgent emergency that can get players to go "oh, let's help those folks out!" Then along the way, perhaps they discover more enticing pieces of information: disappearances are occurring around only a certain area 🌱 and time🌱, maybe they're only occurring to a certain type of person🌱. So naturally, the players can proceed with further questions and theories, until, a-ha! A small breakthrough! Maybe they've found a religious item 🌿 left at the scene, or a surviving witness 🌿 who caught a glimpse of their captors. The players become invested in seeing this through after experiencing the effects firsthand. Over time, they continue following this line and encountering more, until they learn about the cult's full intentions 🌳 through their own efforts.

All those tiny bits and pieces are the plot seeds, the breadcrumbs, the hints, etc. On their own they can seem inconsequential, but later down the line they can be put together to mean something bigger. The small seeds picked up on now grow into a fuller forest. This can give players a sense of achievement and cooperation for having put it together over time.

But it takes a lot longer than that single monologue, doesn't it? That would be one scene (in which you tell) vs planning multiple sessions of smaller scenes (in which you show).

In the former, sure, now the players know what's happening...and technically you've achieved the goal of delivering the plot, right? But in the latter, they've found all of the evidence on their own, gotten emotionally invested in the characters being kidnapped, and maybe even gotten some things wrong and ended up with improvised dramatic consequences. Early portions of the example section above may take up an entire session without even mentioning the word cult. But there's more player motivation in it because you took the time to make it personal, you took them on a more memorable journey instead of reading a list of informational bullet points. Cool, huh? : D

I don't know where I'm going with this tbh, I just love the crunchy thoughts of mechanics for delivering a story. Those mechanics might be obvious to some folks, but I like fiddling with the innards of such things to break them down like this. And if you're a GM/DM for a TTRPG, or you're working on Larp stories, I hope those are fun thoughts to mull over as well!

#seeding plot #d&d #ttrpg #larp #writing tips #game writing #game master #dungeon master

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futureforged · 3 months

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*send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character. 📨 ➤ @nightlyvisitor [ ; ] 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts for Raymon ✨👀

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑. Nothing new, he muses, idly continuing to tap his pen's end against the surface of his desk. He's done for the day, everything cleared out, sorted, properly where it was meant to be. But maybe he's grown all too comfortable here. Come to find a sort of odd comfort in staying within the lab's carefully guarded, meticulously kept walls. The lights have been dimmed, just enough to ease his eye strain from being inside all day. Every other noise grows dull, distant as he continues to wade deeper into his tired thoughts.

Trailing after the thinning path led by breadcrumbs of passing observations, they lead in differing directions. But a few gradually begin to spiderweb in interconnecting veins of a familiar topic. One he's admittedly not proud of lingering too long on, but … too late to bother backing out now.

His pen tapping begins to slow, gaze breaking from where it'd been staring off aimlessly to instead flicker up & over to the one safely tucked away pile at the edge of his desk, locking on the messy yet neat curves of the other's distant writing scrawled along the top page. A personal report of his most recent mission. As usual, it took a bit of mental prep before he could bring himself to read through it. It truly did make him wonder just how the sunny man was able to stay so hopeful. The things he's seen … admittedly, he was nosy, peeking through a few of the sharpshooter's files within the BSAA database to figure out if he was worth trusting or not months before … he was a Raccoon City Survivor.

He'd been one of the first few to be exposed to the horrors of bio-experimentation.

Jayce read the reports that were publicly available, knows that what the other had been through would've been enough to leave other people without that same spark of determination alive. But here he was, still stubbornly shoving through, refusing to back down from a mission no matter the predicted danger. He was … a genuine man. Kind right down to his very core. Something that both amazes & triggers something in the tired scientist's chest. An odd mixture of guilt, admiration, something distinctly protective & mournful. It's all balled up in a confusing mess of feelings, growing bigger the longer he knows the other man. The more he learns of what it is they're really up against.

He can only do so much from his end to help, from logging away & securely documenting everything they came across in its full entirety. Just in case the BSAA turned out to be no better than the other companies they hunt, it's risky, but the fact the other understands this fear, shares it, does what he can to help.

It reignites a tiny spark of something hopeful. Optimistic. Reassured that not all of humanity was doomed to be greedy, selfish, evil or rotten. He continues to tap his pen again, noting how the silence seemingly doubled in tension. The repetitive noise does very little to quell down his thoughtful hum, only prompting him to scoff out a sigh as he rubs at his eyes.

Moving to stand, he reaches for his jacket from where it remains carefully draped over the back of his chair, slipping it over his shoulders before making his way over to the designated rest section. He shuts his thoughts down, trying not to let things anchor down deeper through the impending rabbit hole of trouble he knows is coming from the most recent update he'd been given from the sunny operative. Things would likely only get worse from here. Something everyone seemingly knew at this point.

The only thing he could try to do, was maybe steal some of Blackstone's seemingly endless optimism, try to emulate it as best he could if he wanted to stay together mentally with what the future held.

… easier said than done, he sighs, flopping over.

#➤ ꜰɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ . . . // in character.#nightlyvisitor #❝ you’re a new day rising ; you’re a brand new sky. ❞ . [ nightlyvisitor ]#◈ *virus hexed ( … ) resident evil verse

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onceuponaroast · 1 year

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Ok so. I have Thoughts about pokemon sv now that I've finished it. This is your spoiler warning, details below the cut for the full main storyline. You've been warned.

I have to admit, I think this is probably my new favorite game.

Don't get me wrong, I'm just as disappointed with the lagging/glitches as everyone else! I even spent much of the first part of the game feeling mildly underwhelmed

But then I hit the final storyline

I enjoy games with good writing above all, graphics etc second. So I was hooked pretty early by Arven and Penny's storylines. No offense to Nemona, I love her, but I've done the gym challenge before, so I was way more intrigued by them. Especially with the air of mystery surrounding those plots

I was super surprised by pokemon handling such mature themes, too! Arvens struggle to feel loved by his parent(s) and the possibility of losing a beloved pet- and Penny's storyline about how often when victims of bullying stand up for themselves they're the ones who end up getting in trouble with teachers. I have personal experience with parts of both of these stories (losing a pet and bullying) so these hit me hard!

But then! Oohhhh then when I finished those three plots and the all came together for the final storyline?? Beautiful!!! I'm a sucker for seemingly unrelated things coming together for something even bigger

The writers actually did a great job of portraying a bunch of teenagers hanging out together. Each character remained true to themselves, while also sounding like a realistic group of kids.

As we got closer to the final boss there were some breadcrumbs to pick up on, so I was suspecting *something* was up, but when the final twist dropped my jaw actually fell open

It was so well written! I was not expecting it, but in hindsight all the details clicked together. That's the best kind of plot twist in my opinion. When I first saw AI Sada I thought it was her dead body, but then it activated and I was like "Oh Shit, okay!!!!"

Then they subverted the evil AI trope, having the robot professor actually want to help us, but knowing they'll turn against us because of their programming... beautiful showstopping spectacular

I had a few fears going into the final battle (would we have to send Koraidon back to the past? Were we gonna loose Mabostiff for Dramatic Effect, wasting all the work we'd put in with Arven?) And I'm SO GLAD I was wrong.

The final storyline ended in such a satisfying way, and I was actually astounded by the level of care that went into the writing. My expectations after swsh and pla were not high, and I was blown away

I've never had a game make me actually cry before, let alone twice (once when Mabostiff was fully healed and once when Arven found out about his mom/lost AI Sada too. Yes Arven is my favorite why do you ask)

I am so happy with this game. Did it need some more time to iron out the rendering kinks? Absolutely. Were the programmers probably way overworked and am I totally pissed about that? Yeah 100%. But I can tell a lot of love went into this game, it's writing and characters, and I've still got more to do! There's a ton of post game activities I haven't even started yet

Overall I loved this game and I'm going to go cry some more now

#fi talks #long post #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlett #pokemon sv #pokemon #pokemon sv spoilers #pokemon spoilers #sv spoilers

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kingess · 2 years

Note

Hi!! First of all, can I just say I LOVE you???? Like I've known your blog three days and it's literally perfect. Like legit. After all my life being told to be the bigger and better person despite going through physical, emotional and sexual abuse, you just make me feel so much better. But anywho, let's get into some context.

There's this guy, and we're "friends" but he keeps flirting with me and calling me cute, and initially I thought it came from a genuine place of liking me, but every two seconds he insists on us being friends and him never having a crush. And today, I confronted him, pretending to like how "flirting with friends was fun" (it was a test) and he said that I'm the only friend he does this with. And the next line, which pissed me off was "if it was someone else they'd have beat me up but you wont do anything". So yeah, he just exposed himself and now I want sweet, sweet, revenge. I've been reading your posts and making notes, and here's my question: how do I apply your tricks on a guy who doesnt really show his emotions? Like how do I know what I'm doing is working if there's little feedback?

(My aim is to do what he did, essentially love bomb him, get him all high on dopamine and then bring him down with a "oh you're such a good friend")

Hi baby♡. He didn't just expose himself, he exposed you to You. And that is why you're feeling hurt and angry. He essentially told you that no other girls tolerate his low-effort bs games, but you take it. You're frustrated because he called you out on being vulnerable to abusive behavior. Rightfully so, but you have to take a deep look at the trigger.

When we profoundly recognize our own worth and value we become resistant to love bombing. By the sounds of it this weakling guy hasn't blasted money or tortured you for years. Thus, planning a large-scale retribution rehabilitation for your ego does not sound energy efficient at all. A little snap and a clean cut maybe, but that's it.

What will help the most is prevention of ever having to feel like this again by healing what made you get fooled. When you yourself aren't able to give yourself better than breadcrumbs only then will someone else throwing you crumbs cloud your vision.

He didn't take you on dates, he didn't get you nothing, while there are girls going on all inclusive seperate room paid beach holidays with their suitor still not convinced of the males effort and intention -that's me, and I still rejected him. Sweet thing, let's be for fucking real.

My guide should not be applied to petty crimes even though I understand it's tempting for the intensity you're feeling. Petty crimes deserve petty consequences, not devotion.

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leavetheminshreds · 1 year

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@fractixluna discord continued

Doug curled his lips between his teeth at Arthur’s comment, old memories clicking into place as the more he shared, the more he could recall about Charles and Arthur. It had just been Charles and Douglas for so long, he’d never really thought hard about what Charles and Arthur was like - having tried very hard not to think about Arthur at all for some time. But with Charles’ passing, Douglas had let go of his studies, and had even started to think it was best to let go of hunting after he’d narrowly lost a fight with a hellhound and had no one to help him recover after.

There was a pause in Douglas as Arthur started making plans, a twist in his stomach as he’d never considered what continuing his studies on his own would look like. Over the last few months, he’d truthfully come to terms with no longer studying to be a valuable asset to assist in Charles’ research. He learned out of necessity, and while his curiosity had been growing, he didn’t enjoy it outside of the opportunity to spend more time with Charles. It was better to be in the lab helping him than sitting outside of it waiting for him for hours. But with him gone, did he even really want that anymore?

Douglas held his tongue, keeping those thoughts to himself, now worried about disappointing Arthur as he jumped into making plans without asking him what he wanted. Not that Doug really knew what he wanted. “Yeah, we had started that with small specimens,” he replied, recalling where they’d left off. “He was patient with me. Bigger things I was struggled with.”

discord history of interaction below cut

Arthur FolkvarBOT — 02/23/2023 10:37 PMMoving to Los Santos chasing breadcrumbs had been a shot in the dark. Whispers and rumors were all he had of holding on to the past lest his guilt swallow him whole. Arthur expected nothing of the city. At best, a quiet life he didn’t feel he deserved. At worse, well… Arthur never really gets far enough to consider the ways out he could take when the grief became too much. A coffee and conversation later, he winds up keeper of the library. Though it is a generous assumption of the creaking old building. It becomes far too easy to lose himself in rebuilding something out of decrepit nothing. If only he looked up. Would he have seen Douglas sooner? It didn’t matter now. Especially when their last conversation left him with a heavy heart that could not sink far for the deep ocean of relief swallowing him whole. But the waves only last so long— Maybe that’s why he’s quiet when he spots him in line just two back behind him. Arthur bites his tongue for a long while at a loss of what to say. We’re strangers now aren’t we? and yet— and yet— “Afternoon Gina, earl grey latte and uh, I’ll get his drink as well.” Easier to gesture to Doug than try to order for him based on long buried memories. Standing to the side, he offers a polite smile to the woman and though it doesn’t count for much maybe coffee would be a good place to start.

----

Douglas MuntzBOT — 02/24/2023 10:39 AMDouglas didn’t know what he was supposed to feel right now. Grieving Charles had felt like enough to deal with, but just when he felt like he’d started to get his footing on his own, Arthur’s unexpected appearance had swiped the rug out from underneath him and he was off balance again. Years he had spent waiting for him to come back, then hoping he would, until finally he was left to grieve until eventually that grief became anger, and finally indifference as memories faded and his priorities became solely focused on making Charles proud. And now he was here again. Back from the dead, and with his resurrection came the feelings he’d repressed. He was relieved, but also hesitant. Happy, but also angry. How many days the boy had needed him, but he was not there. And when he had needed him the most, when Charles tumbled down into a deep, dark cavern that was too steep, wet and dangerous for Douglas to go after him - he was not there. Douglas took him with a grain of salt, hearing his promise to stay but he was not willing to believe him yet. He was already wounded, scars that had not fully healed re-opened. His guard was up, defenses in place to prevent further damage, like an animal backed into a corner, waiting and watching carefully for his opportunity to flee, attack, or play dead. But outside of his caution, there was a part of him that was desperate to be proven wrong. He was lonely, and although he wouldn’t admit it - scared. The boy that Arthur knew had died when he left, and with his return, he felt a stir of life as he quietly ached for his father figure again. Feelings were hard, and it was making him angry to have to deal with them at all.

[10:39 AM]Douglas was on his way to the record store, hoping to find something new that would help him take his mind off of things. He’d been up late, starring at the ceiling of his bedroom in the very empty manor, his thoughts racing and battling with the past. As soon as he woke up, he felt the need to leave, still on edge, still hating the emptiness of what was supposed to be his home - but it was not long after that he felt his stomach grumble for skipping breakfast. He searched for the nearest cafe, settling on a spot for a breakfast sandwich (or two) and got in line. He pulled out the book he kept on him from his inner jacket pocket while he waited in line, but shortly after he’d gotten a paragraph in and the line moved forward, a familiar voice made his ears perk up and he realised his head to see Arthur standing at the front register, gesturing at him. “I have money,” Douglas said first, his lips pulled back briefly into a thin smile, but the look in Arthur’s eyes made him cave. After a pause, he swallowed his pride and gave. “Just a breakfast sandwich and a water, please.” Standing and waiting for the food and drinks felt awkward, Doug starred at him when he wasn’t looking, only to glance away when his gaze was caught by Arthur. “What have you been doing all of this time?” Doug finally asked, abruptly and directly, more interested in answers than small talk.

Arthur FolkvarBOT — 02/24/2023 3:55 PMIt shouldn’t surprise him that Douglas smells strongly of Charles. Standing so close reconciling the little boy with the wolf standing next to him, he can small it clear as day. The familiar notes of camomile and clove, of gun oil and something else he’d never had a name for— it was simply inherently Charles. There’s a quiet ache, a desire to drag Douglas into his arms and smother him with his scent until it’s the same as before; a culmination of both of them blanketing the little pup. “Make that three breakfast sandwiches Gina, thank you.” Another twenty and they’re left to the quiet left by years of absence. Arthur knows the boy is looking at him, likely wondering when the other shoe will drop. How long until he leaves again, no doubt. Glancing sidelong when he hears that terse voice, there’s a quiet smile. “I was hunting and establishing myself so I had means to build a network of sorts around you and Charles. It was how I kept an eye on the two of you. Only downside is news travels slowly when it is discreet.” Arthur looks away then, watching the breakfast sandwiches being made and listening to the hiss of the espresso machines. I was too late to help either of you. Unspoken words hang on his tongue. It wasn’t Douglas’ duty to carry that burden. No, Arthur wouldn’t suffer to see his pup knowing that he had been helpless, that he had expended everything to make sure that the boy at his side now had an uneventful and peaceful journey to Los Santos. Just like he and Charles had planned. It was the only way he knew of honoring the man’s last wish. “I taught for a time,” he says instead. “First grade and fourth grade. Then I traveled here and took the position of head librarian after Argus Tabernath retired. Pleasant man Argus. He handed me the keys and said good riddance. Don’t know what he’s doing now, likely fishing.” Arthur let’s out a breath, tired gaze on busy baristas. “And this morning I decided to get tea. Suppose that brings us right up to now.”

Douglas MuntzBOT — 02/25/2023 10:13 PMDouglas stood in attention, his jaw raised slightly as his facial muscles tensed at Arthur's answer. He remembered when he'd swore he could smell his athair on the wind,"Is that supposed to make me feel better? That you were keeping an eye on us while we went on thinking you abandoned us?" The young werewolf glared at him, disgust on his face in the way he knitted his eyebrows together. His lips pulled back into a thin line, guarding himself. The man continuing his story seemed to only agitate him further. The way he casually he spoke about abandoning them to go off to live a different life wounding him deeply. "Why did you leave?" Douglas asked again, his tone restrained and quiet. "For every day that I wished for you to come back, I need to know."

Arthur FolkvarBOT — 02/26/2023 12:41 AMAh, youth. Arthur watches Douglas a moment and feels his expression soften. It wasn’t the boy’s fault that he was angry and upset, he hadn’t known what happened in the days leading up to his escape. He’d begged Charles to keep it secret, asked him to keep it away from their legacy. Of course the guards had been there, but the message had been clear. “No,” he says simply with a small smile, “You asked and I answered. Granted it was in broad strokes but we have a lot of ground to cover.” The pup is full of emotion. Arthur is certain all he has to do is wait a minute or two and there will be a new one. Disgust is a new one and he raises a brow. Why did you leave? And wasn’t that just the start of the real question that Douglas wanted to ask? Well at least his boy doesn’t disappoint in following up with the real heart of his questioning. Arthur’s expression hardens in kind, his attention on the baristas moving about. Well wasn’t that the one promise he’d insisted Charles keep? “No,” he says again, voice harder, colder. There is a slow thin smile offered in kind. Arthur could stomach Douglas’ disgust, hatred, loathing, rage— any of it. Because it meant his pup was alive and that truth would outweigh any pain as if a balm to a fresh wound. He levies that same smile back at the younger wolf and watches him patiently. “For every day you cursed my name, no.”

Douglas MuntzBOT — 02/26/2023 9:02 AMDouglas starred hard at Arthur, holding onto his breath with every muscle tense, fight-or-flight activated with the unusually familiar stranger. He exhaled sharply at his first answer, looking away as if it would help mask the frustration that permeated from him. He only brought his gaze back to him when he answered his third - most important question, his heart dropping like a rock in the ocean, stomach clenching at the denial of answers to questions that had tormented him from his early childhood until his teenage years. A long pause followed before finally Douglas responded. He refused to look at Arthur now as his teeth ground together and he forcefully breathed through his nose. “Then I hope you enjoy your breakfast alone,” the young werewolf said, returning the cold and hard tone as he fought to contain himself, “You clearly have no place in my life anymore.” Douglas shook his head in disbelief at the man's nerve, ignoring the barista at the counter as she set out their food and drink, and turned to leave.

Arthur FolkvarBOT — 02/26/2023 11:53 AMJust as he thought. Arthur watches quietly, relaxed all but for the cool mask he wears. It makes sense why Douglas is the first to look away and why despite it all the boy is so resolute. There’s a quiet flare of pride. Charles used to do the same expecting Arthur to yield belly up. It’s almost cute. “Is that what Charles taught you? To give up so easily?” The wolf tilts his head, watching Douglas still. There’s a hushed word of gratitude to the barista as he takes the tray in hand. “You established the rules, athas.” A few steps and he circles, cutting off the pup’s escape with careful ease. “I am a stranger. I am also a permanent fixture in your life. I have answers you want but not the answers you need.” There is a ghost of a smile. “I’ll be over there eating breakfast. Yours will be laid out upon the table and you are welcome to take a seat. I do hope Charles taught you something about socializing, it would be a shame if you learnt nothing from him.” Arthur lingers but a moment, examining Douglas thoughtfully. A quiet nod and he walks away, going to a nearby table at the window’s edge. Just as he says he sets the table meticulously and takes a seat.

Douglas MuntzBOT — 02/26/2023 12:59 PMDouglas flinched, weakened by the comment but also bristled by it. "Charles is gone. Did he teach you to abandon people?" he said flatly, still avoiding the older werewolf's piercing eyes on him now. Bringing up the late hunter quieted him and made him more eager to leave, frustrated and confused, annoyed further when Arthur cut him off from the door to make him stop in his tracks for a moment. He stood there after Arthur went to sit at the table, turning over his thoughts like scalding hot rocks in his hands. He rolled his eyes before he submitted and followed, not to engage in polite small talk, but to press him further. He was hardly interested in his breakfast anymore. “If you’re not going to tell me what I want to know, then what’s the point? Charles taught me not to waste my time, and right now, that’s all you’re doing,” he said, his tone flat and direct. “I needed you and you left to live a completely different life. You don’t have the right to be a permanent fixture in my life, let alone a fly on the wall of it.”

Arthur FolkvarBOT — 02/26/2023 1:26 PM“He taught me to survive.“ It’s the most he relinquishes before he takes a seat. Watching the pup, Arthur hums briefly and allows Douglas the space to speak. There’s quiet as he sips his tea carefully. Gesturing idly to the seat across from him and the boy’s breakfast, he sets the cup down. “How naive are you to believe for one second that I had any choice in leaving?” Holding up a finger to silence the rebuttal he continues calmly. “Did you stop for one second amidst your hurt and your rage to consider that what ever happened after was all a means to try and return? I’m honestly baffled at how clueless you are to how uniquely difficult it is for anyone to find a way into the Muntz compound.” Arthur sighs and shakes his head. That answered that then; Charles hadn’t spoken about his crime, his inevitable fate had he stayed. It was a relief. Cradling his tea in his hands, the wolf watches Douglas fume. Teenagers. Were we ever like that? “Charles did a poor job then,” he says bluntly. “There is a difference in wasting time and investing time for a greater purpose, Athas. Come, sit. I’m certain there is room for your rage as well.” Arthur intended to be cold, to use a firm hand as Charles might have but he was not the hunter. His voice is warmer, gentle even. “You are so focused upon your needs that you did not stop to consider I needed you as well. Why would I circle you both if not to look for a way in?” Sighing, he takes a sip of tea and shakes his head. “Maybe it would have been better to stay and be a headstone for you to mourn. You’ve certainly the shoulders to bear the weight of another death.”

Douglas MuntzBOT — 02/26/2023 2:44 PMDouglas frowned, his shoulders dropping, disarmed by Arthur’s rebuttal. “I didn’t know that,” he said, his face pale and his voice softening. His gaze fell to his lap, a small twitch of his eyebrow while he thought. “I didn’t know why you said goodbye to me that night. Charles never told me anything. I was seven. What do you expect me to think at that age? You were just gone,” he defended himself, but the anger and spite in him had cooled off. “You could have just told me that instead of leading me to believe that you didn’t care.” The young werewolf restrained himself from grumbling underneath his breath, annoyed now as he felt like a child that had thrown a temper tantrum for no reason, even if that reason had been years of trauma that suddenly felt invalidated. His rolled his lips in between his teeth, glancing up at Arthur briefly before his gaze skittered away again. “I’m sorry,” he finally admitted, now presented with the reality of the situation, his mind racing to finish putting pieces together. “I didn’t know that you couldn’t come back. I didn’t know that you wanted to. It just...” He paused, his head lowered but his eyes raising beneath his brow to look at him again. “It was hard without you.” But now, with the little bit of information that had finally been divulged, it appeared to have been hard without Douglas, as well. His heart ached, and he visibly reacted to his last statement. “I already mourned you once,” he said, submitting as he folded his hands in his lap. “Please don’t make me do it again.”

Arthur FolkvarBOT — 02/26/2023 3:01 PM“You never asked.” Arthur finds himself smiling regardless, sipping his tea as he waits for Douglas. He’s always waiting, it was where he excelled beyond even Charles. The wolf knew patience beyond even human capacities. Why else would he be patient enough for so many years? “I expected you to hate me and use your anger to push yourself further in your training. Charles would likely shut down and focus on you and it would make you a better hunter for it.” Shaking his head, he hums and sets aside his tea once more hands folded carefully in his lap. “You needed to voice your rage, your hatred. We’re creatures of passion Athas. Telling you how it was from the beginning would have caused years of anger to fester. In leaving I left a wound that hasn’t healed right despite Charles’ best efforts. I have to inflict a little pain to open it up and let it start to heal.” A fond chuckle slips free and he shakes his head. “I remember I used to take care of your wounds much the same way. You were always such a clumsy little pup.” Arthur allows himself a quiet moment to remember those watery big eyes. Douglas had been such a darling child, he’d been an angry crier then as well. Watching the young wolf now he’s reminded of back then. He’d pinched those cheeks gentle and smiled as he told Douglas to look after Charles. Now? Well his boy talks quieter, deflated and small compared to the rage earlier. Ah, his gaze softens further and he smiles warmly. “And I mourned you as well. Both of you. It ought to be comforting to know the sentiment is shared. No dying Athas.” Reaching across, he pushes the plate closer to the younger wolf. “And no apologies,” he chides gentle, “Eat up, you ought to remember how I feel about wasted food.”

Douglas MuntzBOT — 02/26/2023 5:31 PMDoug’s eyebrows furrowed, frustrated again. “I didn’t at first,” he admitted, drifting into his memories reluctantly to pull answers, “I thought you would coming back, so I trained hard - I wanted better than the others when you got back... But when you never did - things got really hard. Then I started to hate you for leaving me alone with them.” He was bullied, whispered insults about the favorite lap dog. He knew they were jealous of the attention and focus he got, looking for the opportunity to see him fail, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. “No, it would have made me follow you,” The young man exhaled with a sigh, “and I know that wouldn’t have been okay. I tried to find you once, but Charles found me and brought me back.” Not that he ever resented him for that, he was just seven after all. He just wanted his family together again. There was a void that was left in both of them that was never able to be filled. Training had served to be Douglas’ distraction and only solace. He never liked to be by himself for long, afraid Charles would disappear too. Until he finally did. More wounds. He settled into his seat, leaning back in his chair as he started to finally relax, calm but cautious. Still, he was already tired of fighting, of being alone, of not knowing what to do with himself. “I'm not clumsy anymore,” Douglas said flatly, sure to correct him about the blanket statement. “I can take care of myself.” The admission that he had mourned them did make him feel better, like ointment on a bad burn. It did not heal the burn, but it provided some relief, and, maybe with time and continued application, it would heal. “That does make me feel better,” he admitted in return, resigning to reach for the sandwich as Arthur told him to do and take a bite. It felt surreal sitting there, starring at the man who’d all but come back from the dead. “Fine. But no leaving again. Not without me.”

Arthur FolkvarBOT — 02/26/2023 5:49 PM“They hated you because you were ours.” It isn’t much of an apology but it is as close as Arthur gets as they talk. The wolves at the compound were a fierce sort but Arthur remembers the days growing up that ended in bloodied knuckles. All because of their pride. Because the other wolves couldn’t stand to see the coveted place at the Muntaz heir’s side filled by some stray like Arthur. “It’s good that you didn’t succumb to their hate. They never could admit that even as a child you were far more gifted than them.” It’s earnest and plain. Arthur had known it all along since the day Charles brought the boy back. His little Athas was going to run circles around all of them. Sipping his tea once more there’s a rumble of fond laughter. “That was never in question, we’re Muntz wolves; surviving and overcoming is in our nature.” Leaning back and watching the other wolf begin to eat, there’s a pleased nod. Arthur smiles further and makes a show of crossing his heart. Just as he did to show Douglas it was a promise he would never break. Cross my heart and hope to die he’d whisper and press a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “I’ve found you again, it would take an act of god to chase me away,” he says plainly, finishing his tea with a pleased hum. “It might interest you to know I’ve fallen into ownership of the library. It’s a downright mess but it has it’s charm. Perhaps you’d like to see?” Taking his own sandwich, he takes a bite and swallows it with another quiet hum. “There’s a certain wing that’s proving uniquely interesting. I think you’d like it.”

Douglas MuntzBOT — 02/26/2023 7:34 PMThey hated you because you were ours. One statement was all was needed to make years of pent up resentment and anger fade away. Douglas starred at him, his eyes slightly widened, baring a resemblance to the young pup who had hung on his and Charles’ every word like they had set the stars and moon in the sky. His pride and ego fluffed up again, he returned with a small smile, eating up the validation he’d been starved of for the last 6 months since he’d first found himself alone. “It became a game after awhile,” Douglas mused, pleased with himself, “they were bigger and stronger than me. So I made sure I was faster and smarter.” More than anything, he couldn’t fail. It would make Charles and Arthur look bad for having faith in him - but the favoritism left him lonely. Another little beam of pride on his face at Arthur’s comment and the gesture across his heart, settling the young man easily into his memories. but the mention of Muntz made his smile falter after a moment, and he stopped eating. A drop of his gaze was enough to say what he didn’t need to say out loud to be known. How he missed Charles. He picked his chin up, and finished his breakfast while Arthur spoke. “A whole library?” Douglas repeated, curious as he tilted his head to the side. “What’s in it? Science books? I was studying advanced biology with Charles so I could help him before -” he paused, wincing as he stopped himself from speaking. “I guess that doesn’t matter now.”

Arthur FolkvarBOT — 02/26/2023 8:34 PMIt was good to hear Douglas talk of putting the other wolves in their place by performance alone. Arthur knew the pup had it in him, more than favoritism it was the first time he’d taken to one of the hunting wolves. Charles asked him once what he saw and he had only smiled and shaken his head. A future, he’d replied like it was a secret kept for the two of them. Ah but that was a tender subject. He can spot the moment the other wolf’s expression falters. Charles was still a fresh wound. Arthur wonders if it’s because they had planned for this that he’s capable of talking of him. He remembers when he was younger, when Charles would find new ways to sneak out and the wolf would follow ever loyal. Back then he made plans for the future while Charles planned for their death. It never hurts to be ready. “Yes, a whole library,” Arthur confirms with a chuckle, licking a speck of egg clean from the corner of his mouth. Douglas’ excitement flares alive and ebbs just as quickly. There’s a long moment of quiet and Arthur sets his breakfast aside. “And why would it not?” The question is poised gently as he meets his gaze. “I told you once didn’t I? Regardless of whether Charles or I am alive, the actions and words you take with you into the future are the echo of our lives. You are the heart of us, Athas. It is good to mourn him and better to honor him.” A small smile is offered. Ah, his heart was heavy but he could pretend for his pup’s sake. “We can very well pick up your studies where he left off. I’ve spent a little time repairing the shelving and building but the newer books should arrive sometime this week.” Looking away and returning to eating his breakfast he gives a little nod. “Mm, I’ll show you the west wing too. It’s sectioned off for now to keep the locals away. But it should be fine for just the two of us.”

Douglas MuntzBOT — 02/26/2023 10:35 PMDoug raised his head at Arthur’s question, confused at first. “I was only just starting to help him with his research. I don’t think I know enough to do what he did. Or even... Know where to start,” he said, half frowning, feeling inadequate in the areas that would have honored guardian. “I knew how to follow in your foot steps like they were my own. But his...” Charles’ shoes felt too big for his feet to fill. The young man sighed, disgruntled by the lack of direction. He didn’t want to let him down, but he struggled with the details of Charles’ behind the scenes work. “I’m a wolf. I’m not... I’m not a scientist. I understand what he was doing but...” Douglas looked a little disconcerted, but he took a deep breath and nodded as he took a sip of his water, realizing how parched he was from ignoring his thirst for a time while his attention had been on Arthur. Not but half an hour ago, he’d been ready to never see him again, and now here he was - slipping right back into routine nestled to his side, waiting to be told what to do. He chewed on his lip and nodded, his missing of Charles making him miss the chemistry equations and live anatomy lessons. Charles knew how to make everything interesting. “Alright,” Douglas said, his head shifting to the side, “Whatever you need help with - I’m here for.” March 8, 2023 Arthur FolkvarBOT — 03/08/2023 10:05 PM“Charles was a great many things. Especially clever.” Arthur considers what Douglas tells him and can’t help the small smile. “Don’t forget Athas, him and I grew up together.” It would be easy enough to find where to pick up the pup’s teaching. While it wasn’t his speciality, he knew the hunter’s mind well enough to assume what would have come next. It was why they worked so well together if he were honest, neither of them was afraid to push and question each other. But they’d been agreed where Douglas was concerned. “Even a wolf can be a scientist, don’t you dare discredit your cleverness.” Arthur finishes his breakfast sandwich with a few quick bites and is quick to wipe his mouth as he considers the wolf in front of him. Charles would’ve wanted to move on to applicable sciences if he knew how the human worked. Build a solid foundation then build using senses and reason. Well there was more reason to go down into The Archives. Their pup learned human skills, perhaps it was time to apply it to their own world. “It’s settled then, we’ll work on the west wing. Tell me, did he finish teaching you how to dissect and harvest materials for the traps we use?”

#douglas:arthur #douglas.thread

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saurons-pr-department · 2 years

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On Adar, Halbrand and Secret Sauron*

[Note: This post contains mention of events from the texts of The Silmarillion, Lord of the Rings and Morgoth's Ring (vol. 10 History of Middle Earth) and so may contain spoilers for anyone watching the show who isn't already familiar with the canon. Or not, I have no idea what they will and will not decide to include in this show.]

Love it, hate it, or could not care less about it, there is big excitement across much of Tolkien fandom about Amazon's The Rings of Power. One of the biggest sources of excitement, getting quite a lot of speculation from what I've seen, is Sauron. Specifically, have we seen him yet? And if so, who is he?

We are currenlty one episode away from the season one finale and there are two characters who've really caught people's attention as potential Saurons: Adar and Halbrand.

Now, as anyone who has even glanced at this blog will know, I kinda like Sauron. [mentally insert the Marge and potato meme here]. He has been Blorbo Supreme for some years now. And as you would imagine, I have opinions. Opinions on what constitutes a good portrayal of Sauron or, probably more appropriate in this case, what constitutes good hinting at Sauron. Of course, just like everyone else online, I'm not privy to any of what's going on behind the scenes in the writers' room, and I don't keep up with any production news, meaning I have no idea if it was intentional for either of these characters to be in the running for potential Saurons. As such, I feel it would be inappropriate to try to comment on how good or not so good I think the writers' trail of breadcrumbs is. After all, if they were never trying to hint, of course the trail won't be any good. For this reason, I'm going to simply discuss these two characters and their potential Sauron-ness, or complete lack thereof, in a kind of floating void (hi Melkor!). Not ideal, I know, but like I said, I have no idea if the intention was even there in the first place to mislead people in the case of these (or should I say, one of these...) characters.

First, I want to address the case of Adar. Of the two characters we're discussing, he's the one I think makes for the more likely Sauron. Do I think he's Sauron? ...The answer is more "I hope not". To my mind, he is too boring an entrance for an already evil Sauron and too blatant an entrance for a secret Sauron and so would be a disappointment. And then we have what, for me, would be the even bigger disappointment; we would no longer have Adar! Honestly, I love the introduction of a character who is one of the original Elves to have been spirited away by Morgoth and twisted to his service. Not to mention that wonderful "Orcs (apologies Adar, I mean Uruks) are just some guys" speech that would almost certainly be reneged on should Adar turn out to be Sauron. However, the above two points pertain more to personal preference on my part and do not play a role in how believable I think Adar is as Sauron. I just couldn't resist adding them in. As for whether I think the theory of Adar being Sauron holds any water... I don't think it's bad. I don't look at people like they've gone mad when they suggest it. I do however think that he's missing something as a Sauron.

We'll start off with what I think could indicate potential traces of Sauron.

Let's start with the lowest hanging fruit. The major red flag (and currently implied to maybe be a red herring) is that he is leading an army of Orcs and that, in a recent episode, together they have 'created' the land of Mordor. I'll admit, this is probably the weakest of the hints. Stealing that sword thingy and throwing the mentos into the coke bottle, sorry, setting off Mt. Doom, is something that easily could have been delegated to an underling. I mean, technically Waldreg did it in the end, so it actually was delegated to an underling now that I think of it. Anyway, on its own Operation M(en)t(os). Doom is not really much to say "there's Wally!**".

There are however points that could be a more direct hint at Sauron himself, things that are more consistent with what we know of his history and personality. The name 'Adar' itself could be a nod towards Sauron's probably having a hand in the creation of the Orcs. I say probably because it's never directly stated that he was involved, but the Valaquenta [from the published Silmarillion] does tell us that he was involved in all of Morgoth's schemes within Arda, with something similar mentioned in Myths Transformed in Morgoth's Ring. Together these texts tell us that he was generally the one who saw that Morgoth's plans were actually seen to completion (Melkor being the accidental god of ADHD). Then there's the reverence that the Uruks show for Adar. To me, this would very much be in line with how Sauron would expect to be treated. This Maia is nothing if not self-important (as anyone familiar with the whole 'mightiest werewolf' fiasco will tell you). We know that he wants to set himself up as a God-King (I'm so sorry, I cannot for the life of me remember where I've seen Tolkien use that phrase for him!). He doesn't simply want to control his followers, he wants their worship. He doesn't want to just be in charge, he wants people to recognise his divine right to be in charge. Adar seems to have something akin to this in the Uruks who follow him.

Then we have two points that I'll admit do require a little bit of a stretch, but hopefully you'll agree it's a stretch that stays within the realms of believability. When Adar is approached by Waldreg and asked if he is Sauron, we see a look of almost disgust on his face. Later, we're led to believe that this is because Adar hates Sauron and has in fact destroyed him in order to free himself and his fellow Uruks of his tyrannous reign. We know from Aragorn in The Lord of the Rings, that 'Sauron' is not the name this character uses for himself. Which, honestly? Fair. It means the Abhorred and was bestowed upon him by his enemies. He does not use it himself and Aragorn tells us that he does not permit its use among his followers. Again, fair. If people I didn't like went around calling me 'That Fucking Bitch' I don't think I'd be rushing to adopt its use either. I certainly wouldn't go calling Sauron 'Sauron' to his face unless I had a death wish. During his reign prior to 'capture' by Númenor, he styled himself Tar-Mairon, which Tolkien translates as 'King Excellent', again driving home how highly this guy thinks of himself. I would also here like to point out that 'Mairon' is supposed to be his name before his fall. The Admirable is what it means. 'Sauron' is probably intended to be a pun on, or corruption of, this. To me Tar-Mairon is simply him using his own name, but I digress. My point is that he doesn't like being called Sauron because that's not actually his name. It's an insult. As for Adar claiming to have killed Sauron and now having noble purposes, I think it could be argued that perhaps this is a reference to how, following the War of Wrath and the capture of Morgoth, Sauron did try to repent, perhaps even genuinely [Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age, the published Silmarillion]. In both Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age and Myths Transformed, we are given information on how he did genuinely believe that Eru and the Valar had abandoned Middle Earth (or at least had successfully deluded himself into believing this), that he desired to create a better world and had at some point probably genuinely cared about the well-being of his subjects, but that he couldn't help but fall back into evil and into imitating his old master. Personally, I would not reject turning over a new leaf as the reality behind the claim that Adar has killed Sauron, but that might just be because I am a sucker for a character 'killing' their former self in order to become something new. What can I say? I'm part of the Obi Wan 'from a certain point of view' Kenobi school of thought. Now, I could talk forever about Sauron's motives and his possibly maybe trying and failing not to be evil that one time, but this post will quickly end up falling down a rabbit hole it was never meant to enter, so I will leave it at that...

There is one Adar moment (that I remember anyway, you think I remember things? no) that strikes me as distinctly un-Sauron. This would be the moment where he's almost in tears and states that he is not a god, not yet. Now, I know you're going to say "But Sorcha, wanting to be a god is so on brand for Sauron. That's as Sauron as it gets," and you would be right, but here's the thing; as I've already mentioned this guy loves himself, thinks he's the best thing since lembas bread, not to mention the fact that he has a massive cocky streak. Do we need to mention the werewolf thing again [Tale of Beren and Lúthien]? Standing on top of a temple in a lightning storm as if that was all Manwë or Eru had [Akallabêth]? How about laughing at his own evil plan so hard he didn't realise that he was about to be absolutely bodied by a giant island-sinking wave [Akallabêth]? Or what about how he is actually one of the demi gods that helped to sing the physical world into existence? Do we really think this guy is going to sit there and cry about how he's not a god or do we think he's going fume at how no one is acknowledging his brilliance and right to be their ruler? We also know that no matter what the situation, this man seems to be in a laughing mood and that the Second Age is when he seems to be carrying out his most ambitious and unhinged plans (making the One Ring [Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age], setting up a whole human sacrifice cult dedicated to Melkor and achieving immortality [Akallabêth]). Yes, yes, I know, lies and pretences are his whole thing, he's the great Deceiver and all that, but that doesn't change the fact that we often get this strong sense of a joyously cruel and self-important personality from many scenes with Sauron, even when he is lying (he doesn't pretend to be a nobody when he's pretending to be Annatar, does he?). For me, this moment for Adar doesn't match with this personality. It's not a complete misstep, but I would argue that it doesn't quite fit what we know of him.

Right! So, I have spoken way more about Adar than I intended to, and my tiny attention span is trying to Melkor its way out of writing the rest of this post. Unfortunately, I don't have a Sauron to pick up the slack for me, so I best move on to Halbrand before I give up altogether!

Halbrand. Halbrand Halbrand Halbrand. Where do I even start? Being 100% honest, I actually thought this was a crack theory when I first saw it. You know, we have this mysterious guy and we haven't seen Sauron yet so wouldn't it be funny if he was Sauron??? But then I realised that people were being serious. The guy we meet floating on a raft and then see get the shit kicked out of him by random guys who it most certainly would not suit Sauron's purposes to let humiliate him?? The guy who's kinda flirty with Galadriel, who we all know spotted Annatar's bullshit a mile away?? That guy???

There is just... so much wrong here and the connections so tenuous. Yeah, he's interested in forge work but like, so are a ridiculous number of other characters? Being a smith is a whole thing in Tolkien. Is Celebrimbor now in the running for Sauron? Maybe the reason Sauron is so tall is because he's secretly all of the Noldor and all of the Dwarves standing on each other’s shoulders and wearing a trench coat! Okay, so he's clearly not being truthful and we don't really know what his deal is. Gil-Galad, Celebrimbor and the various Durins were all rather shifty at the start in regards the Mithril situation. Míriel wasn't instantly forthcoming about the condition her father was in. Holding things back is not Sauron exclusive. My personal favourite was seeing it pointed out that he laughed once, which as I mentioned above Sauron often is described as doing but like (Jesus wept) I'm laughing right now writing this. Am I Sauron?? (this is starting to feel like that everything is cake video). I have yet to see any evidence given for Halbrand being Sauron that is actually specific to Sauron and not the vaguest of grasping at straws.

This is of course without even going into how Sauron is supposed to arrive in Númenor. A prized prisoner who quickly silver-tongues his way into Ar-Pharazôn's ear, allowing him to become High Priest of the temple of Melkor. He allows only the briefest of humiliations against his person before viciously tearing apart their little island society by the already rotten seams. The random cast away found half dead on a raft is.... not this.

For me, the biggest hole in the idea that he is secretly Sauron is that Halbrand is neither positioning himself to be helpful to anyone, nor is he positioning himself as important. Galadriel is, but he's not doing it himself. For a while he's been trying to insist that he wants to be just some guy. But one theme that runs through Sauron's big Second Age schemes (being Annatar in Eregion and allowing himself as Tar-Mairon to be Númenor's prisoner) is that he establishes himself as someone useful to those he would manipulate and that he somehow has the connections to back up that usefulness. It's how he gets them. He finds something they desperately want and lets them think that he is the person who can get it for them. For the Elves, it was the chance to create a Valinor in Middle Earth or at least to heal the hurts of the First Age. For the Men of Númenor, it was to rip immortality from the hands of the Valar who were withholding it from them. Maybe it's to do with his pride, but he doesn't do the random guy who gets into a brawl with nobodies in a back ally for a bit of petty theft. In his head, he's Middle Earth's saviour. Everything would be perfect if everyone just did what he told them to. Even in all his lying and scheming and manipulating, elements of the belief that he is just what this world needs seem to come through. Just look at his 'disguise' as Annatar. He's 'The Lord of Gifts', a follower of Aulë, a Maia, an emissary of the Valar come to guide the Elves. There is so much of him as Sauron in this deception. Now, I could see a certain amount of practicality in being honest that he is a Maia. It allows him to use his powers for the making of the Rings as well as allowing him to really manipulate those complex feeling the Elves in Middle Earth would have towards the West. But I would also argue that there's just a limit to how much he is willing to lower himself, even for a plot as important as trying to bring the Elves under his sway. This is something that the character of Halbrand is missing.

Now, would I trust this man around a Ring of Power? No, probably not. I wouldn't turn my nose up at him becoming an eventual Ring Wraith. He seems suitably conflicted in what he wants to be caught up by the pull of a Ring. Is he Sauron though? No. Zero Sauron vibes. -1000000/10. If he turns out to be Sauron, I'm rage-quitting my telly and never turning it on again. He's also about as interesting as a wet sock, which is not something that could be said about Sauron.

If we're going to see a character who turns out to be Sauron, for me the most believable and most realistic would be a character who initially seems too good to be true. They have something to offer. Something others want. And they are going to be so obliging as to help, because they also believe in all the things we do. They're on our side. Their help is invaluable and oh so precious…

*Secret Sauron the festive celebration where you are gifted magical rings no strings attached we promise

**Waldo for the Americans and their strange ways

#mairon #sauron #adar #halbrand #trop #oh yeah we're going in the tags with this one #lads i had too many thoughts #i'm so sorry #i lost it a little bit at the halbrand bit #i couldn't help it #i just... aaaaahhhhhhhhh

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spricket-central · 9 months

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i had to say a hard goodbye today.

Breadcrumb was a special little girl. i caught her on my bedside table when she was probably only a few months old, and had the privilege of watching her grow into a beautiful little lady!

she was so so small, and still had those silly nymph proportions: big head, big eyes, and extra long antennae that somehow manage to look even more ridiculous than they do on the adults.

she originally lived with Crouton, but i separated them for a while because Crouton was so much bigger than her. the pair eventually reunited once Breadcrumb reached adulthood, however, and the two became best buds!

...well, more like "frienemies" at times, ahaha. they certainly had their fair share of little slap fights, particularly around food, or when Breadcrumb just wanted some privacy in the dirt bowl.

she reminded me a lot of Biscuit, one of my first 3 sprickets who was very dear to me. like Biscuit, Breadcrumb had a relatively calm dispisition; she wasnt nearly as easily spooked as most, chilling in the bowl unbothered even while i made a commotion on the counter at various points throughout the day. she truly lived up to the name bestowed upon her by her godmother, a close friend of mine: Knight Jeremiathalus the 1st.

however, not too long after she reached adulthood, i noticed Breadcrumb had a strange mutation: an extra "hole" at the base of her ovipositor. i noticed occasionally that eggs would get stuck in that hole on their way to her ovipositor. i was always worried it would lead to health complications as she aged and, unfortunately, it seems thats exactly what happened. the frequency of her being eggbound eventually lead to more complications. her ovipositor eventually was perpetually "cracked" open, and, in her final days, the hole at the base had widened.

despite this, she seemed to live fairly comfortably until her sudden decline. she was a funny little thing! she was so so shy as a nymph, but as an adult she became quite spunky! id often find her going for little walks during the day, perhaps grabbing a snack on the way.

...sometimes literally.

she had a very unique appearance. her back, in particular, seemed to lack the bold stripes typical of her species, instead having them break into dark "spots" atop stripes that got lighter and lighter towards her rear.

she also had a beautiful face, with sharp, striking "mascara" around the corners of her eyes.

she truly was a special girl, taken from us too soon by a condition that gripped tighter and tighter around her over time until it finally broke her. she died on July 30th, 2023, just a day before what would have been her 6 month "catch-aversary." as much as i wish i could have celebrated that day with her, im glad she let go when she did; in the end, she was suffering, and to have that suffering end was a mercy.

Breadcrumb, thank you so much for making me smile and laugh every day. watching you grow and blossom was a privilege and, as much as i wish so much that our time together hadnt been cut short in this way, i feel blessed to have had you in my life for so many months.

I love you, Breadcrumb. i always will.

rest well, noble knight. 💚

Breadcrumb

1/31/2023 (caught) - 7/30/2023

#insects #pet bugs #bugblr #invert pets #crickets #camel cricket #spider cricket #cave cricket #spricket #rhaphidophoridae #breadcrumb #memorial #pics

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piercethewon · 1 year

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⚔️Kingslayer.

4 — The caged pigeon. || wc: 2,8k.

ㅤ

—Are you completely sure that you can trust that Sunghoon person? You don’t even know him— your brother asked as he scattered more pumpkin breadcrumbs on the grass for the pigeons to eat. It was the day after king Lee’s funeral, and Sunoo had practically dragged you to accompany him to sit on his favorite bench under a big oak tree to hear your explanation as to why prince Riki and you had abandoned the church hall during prayer.

You mindlessly swung your feet, looking at a particularly small pigeon that stared at the bigger ones as they ate all the bread —Riki told me that Sunghoon is a trustable young man and that he would make sure that no one suspects us—. It was true, and you were more than glad that the prince offered to take full responsibility for the aftermath of your little escapade; it had been his idea, after all. You watched as the little pigeon tried to approach the others to take a bite of the pumpkin-flavored treat, but everything was gone before it could even make its way through the bigger birds; you could relate so much to its helplessness.

Sunoo clicked his tongue, a gesture you interpreted as him not believing a word of what you were saying —Oh, really? And how exactly is he planning to do that?—. Your silence gave away that you had no idea how to answer his question —Sister… I said this before, and I stand by my word: you need to be more careful about your image now. What would the other royal families think if they found out you and Riki were alone by yourselves?—.

—But we were not alone! The entire town was gathered at the plaza!— you said, almost regretting raising your voice at him, but he was getting on your nerves with his implications, because just as Riki had said that one night, it is not as if both of you kissed or did anything imprudent, it was just an innocent walk around the city… why was it so hard for your brother to understand? —Also, you know how fast rumors spread between the townspeople, if anyone had found it weird or suspected that something was going on between the prince and me, we would have found out through our servants by now!—.

—Sister…— he watched as you stood up the bench, scaring the pigeons away in the process.

—Listen, brother…— you cut him off, not being in the mood for getting scolded again —Just because you are a coward, too afraid of popular opinion to turn down your royal duties just this once and follow your heart to pursue that girl from the market, does not mean that I, too, am scared of spending time with the person I like…— you were not meant to say the last part out loud, but the damage was done now and Sunoo opened his mouth in disbelief at your sudden confession.

You stared at each other for a few seconds before your brother cleared his throat —Just… do not let anyone find out how you got that ring— he pointed with his chin at the silver piece with the pink crystal that reflected the sunlight with a lovely glow.

—Is that all you are going to say?— you watched with disappointment painting your face as he stood up from the bench and used his hands to shake off a few crumbs that had fallen on his black pants; at least the small pigeon could finally eat some pumpkin bread.

Sunoo smiled at you, but not enough to make his cheekbones rise —What else am I supposed to say, sister? You are right, I’m a complete coward. I’m glad, and a little jealous, that the person you are supposed to get married to seems to be of your liking.— he bowed his head slightly —Sorry for bothering you again. I hope everything goes well between you two—. His smile was not enough now to mask the sadness that flooded his eyes.

You held his hand in yours in an attempt to comfort him, but his expression gave away how he was long drowned in sorrow —Brother, it is not too late yet, you can still talk to our father— you squeezed him gently —you will never know if something possible until you try your best to make it happen…—.

—Y/N…— were those tears forming at the corners of his eyes? —I told her already, about my wedding… that was the last time I will ever see her— you could not believe your ears, why was he giving up so easily?

The arrival of one of the king’s messengers suddenly interrupted the sibling talk. Sunoo quickly dried his eyes and you stared at the man with alarms ringing in your head; were you speaking too soon earlier? Had your father found out about what took place yesterday? The servant bowed and took a moment to catch his breath, oh, it was an urgent message. —My princess, the heir of the Nishimura family is here— again? Was he not planning on letting you breathe? —He showed in front of the king to plead for some of your time, and our majesty agreed— pffft, of course he did —So prince Riki is now waiting for you at the gardens!—

You tilted your head in confusion —…But we are already at the gardens?— you glanced behind the man with narrowed eyes and spotted a silhouette waving at you from far away. A heavy sigh left your lips as you excused yourself and walked towards the prince with a speeded pace, wondering if he had bad news for you; your only hope was that queen Nishimura had not grounded him yet, so it must not be a serious matter.

Four servants bowed upon your arrival at the meeting place, immediately gesturing for you to take a seat on… a pink blanket? and offering you something to drink from an overwhelming variety of options. You politely declined and watched with a puzzled expression at the boy that was sitting before you, sipping tea from a delicate porcelain cup, pinky stretched and everything; however, the moment your servants walked a few meters of distance and faced in the opposite direction to give both of you some privacy, he unceremoniously gulped the rest of the hot beverage in one go and let out a satisfied sigh, the corners of his lips were wet with remains of tea. —Sorry, it’s hard to keep these manners for too long—.

You snorted and offered him a tissue to clean his mouth before he attempted to use his sleeve —Don’t worry, I feel the same— he arched his eyebrows at your sudden confession —sometimes they feel too excessive—. You recalled all those times when your brother would scold you for using the wrong fork to eat salad, a smile appearing on your face at the fond memory.

—Why are you here? And why did you prepare all this?— you gestured vaguely at the improvised picnic, your mouth watering at the sight of strawberry jam sandwiches, green grapes that were especially peeled for you, blueberry and oat muffins, and some other delicacies.

Riki followed your gaze —I didn’t do it though, your father ordered the workers to serve us food as soon as I asked him to see you— so that explains why all of your favorite foods were here, although your heart had danced a little inside your chest at the thought of the prince being behind the small feast. —And as for my reason to visit you, is it not obvious?— his eyes landed on the ring that adorned your finger, making a smile appear on his face —I want to spend as much time as I can with you before, you know…— it seems like, even for him, it was hard to say it out loud.

—The muffins are really tasty, our chef makes them with brown sugar— you mumbled as you grabbed one of them, changing the subject. That is the exact moment when you realized that you were not the only one whose future had been decided by someone else, and the prince might feel as complicated about the arrangement as you, but you were so absorbed in your own complaints to realize that, at the end of the day, you had to work together to make it through this one; even though Riki had been the only one to put an effort to get close to you.

The prince chose a sandwich and eyed you in wonder, as it was difficult for him to guess what was going on inside your mind. —Y/N— he called, popping the imaginary bubble that had engulfed you along with your idea —Are you always this guarded by your servants?— he finally asked in a whisper, trying not to arise suspicion from the four people that stood a few meters away, awaiting your requests.

You shrugged —They are just doing their job— you filled a cup with green tea and took a sip, gazing at the workers —Do you think it’s boring for them?—.

Riki shook his head —I’m not asking for them, I’m asking for you— he gave you his usual face of exasperation after realizing that you were not quite getting what he was trying to say —I mean, are you not tired of having no privacy?— he reached out to grab his fourth sandwich yet, you wondered how much food was needed to satiate such a tall and hyperactive body.

You simply shrugged again, very responsive on your part —It’s not as if I had the option to ask them to leave us alone, they only follow father’s orders— you sipped on your tea; it was starting to leave a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. —Also, they are not bothering us, why do you care so much?—.

A mischievous smirk made its way to Riki’s face, suddenly making you feel uneasy; was he planning to get you in trouble again? —And what if I wanted to kiss you? Wouldn’t you rather have a little more privacy then?—. Oh, so that’s what he was trying to do: break the rules once more.

You almost dropped your cup in astonishment, praying to whoever was willing to listen so that none of the servants had caught on the prince’s scandalous proposal. —Even if you wanted to kiss me, it would still happen with them being present…— you mumbled against your cup. Your hands were visibly shaking, ruining your chances to play cool.

Riki moved a little closer, effectively making you drop the now empty cup on the blanket —Are you sure?— you nodded, breath hitching when he closed the distance even more —Wouldn’t it make you try to convince them to leave and test the limits of your authority? Who knows… you may have more power here than you realize—. Now, that was a little suspicious; it was obvious that his real intention was not kissing you, he was trying to get a certain reaction from you, but what was it? Why was he so obsessed with the idea of you breaking the rules?

You carefully pondered over his words and finally cleared your throat, alerting the servants —You are free to go now, prince Riki and I have an important matter to discuss, and we need some privacy…— your voice was getting softer with every word as you started to lose confidence halfway through the sentence, but surprisingly enough, your servants bowed politely and headed back inside the castle. You watched with your mouth hanging open as their silhouettes shrank until they reached a small door. If you were your father, there would have not been reason to make up excuses, but it still surprised you just how easy it had been to convince them.

—See? I told you— you heard Riki’s voice right beside you, making goosebumps bloom all over your neck and arms, at this point, it is not even worth mentioning how hot your ears and cheeks felt to the touch —I can’t believe you just risked everything because you wanted me to kiss you, I had no idea you were this impatient— he teased between giggles, earning a smack on his forearm that made him yelp in pain.

—You know damn well that you were not even trying to do it! You just wanted me to get rid of the servants!— you tried, in vain, to defend yourself, but the prince could practically feel your stare on his lips.

—Wait… are my ears deceiving me? Or did the princess just swear?— he said in an annoyingly over-dramatic tone, covering his mouth with one of his hands and pointing an accusatory finger at you with the other. You huffed and raised your hand again, dangerously close to his arm, making him flinch —Fine, I get it! I apologize!—.

You frowned at him and crossed your arms —I can’t believe I did all that for nothing— it was not until you saw the corner of his lips rise in a smile that you realized the implications of your words, turning you yet again into a flustered mess —It’s not what you’re thinking!— or was it…? How confusing!

On his part, Riki was having the time of his life teasing you, enjoying every second of the shyness you were exhibiting, only for him. The prince used his fingers to gently hold your chin up, making your shaky eyes land back on his unreadable ones —I will give you one more chance— he said, his breath fanning over your face, sending tingles all over your skin —Do you want to kiss me?—.

You were starting to feel small under his intense gaze, but you managed to answer in a faint whisper, eyes gleaming with anticipation —Yes, please—. You thought that you would kiss him sooner or later anyway, so did it really matter whether you did it now rather than waiting for the wedding? And given his reaction, it seems like Riki felt the same way as you; there was nothing stopping you from tasting his pinkish lips. But those never made it to yours, instead, you felt the prince’s finger brush over your nose, painting it with… strawberry jam?! —Hey! I thought you were done playing with my heart like this!— you complained after a whine of disappointment left you, using a tissue to clean your face as the boy’s lively laugh rang in your ears.

It took a moment for him to calm his laughter, and for you to calm your heartbeat, then you were staring at each other again, at a safer distance this time. —Y/N, listen— he finally spoke, making you frown at him for the nth time this evening; if you ever got early wrinkles on your face, you would totally blame them on him, Sunoo, and the stupid “Manners for Ladies” manual, the one shaped like a brick —I like you, I really do, but I still get the feeling that everything is going too fast for you— well, at least someone understood your situation, which made the weight on your shoulders lighten a little.

—Did you just call me slow?— you knew it was far from his intentions, but you were getting a little tired of always being the one on the receiving end of his teasing.

Riki shook his head and then did something completely unexpected, or at least for you: he kissed your cheek; so gently and delicately that you almost missed the feeling of his plump lips on your burning skin, he held your hands in his afterward, using one of his thumbs to play with your ring. —I’m being serious right now, princess, let’s take it slow from now, okay? We’ll have plenty of time after the ceremony to act like responsible adults, so let’s just enjoy life for the next months, yeah?—.

The way he worded his sentence made it sound like everything that could come after you both exchanged bows would feel miserable for him, and of course, your mouth had to act faster than your brain —Riki, how do you feel about the arrangement?— you seriously had to work on this habit of yours.

The prince chuckled, not expecting you to take account of his opinion regardless of your set-in-stone fate —I will be more than honored to have you as my queen, Y/N— he kissed your cheek once more to emphasize his sincerity, and with that, he stood up and left you alone with your racing thoughts again, not without grabbing another strawberry jam sandwich for the way back.

ㅤ

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#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen niki #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #niki enhypen #enhypen fanfic #nishimura riki #ni ki #niki fluff #niki fic #niki angst #niki x reader #niki x you

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f0rever15elf · 2 years

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So my mom has this recipe for cheesy zucchini casserole that has been one of my favorite dishes that she has ever made and it makes me super nostalgic. Well I have a bunch of zucchini in my garden that I don't know what to do with because they're the size of small baseball bats literally bigger than my forearm and taking up an entire shelf in my fridge so I decided to make the casserole! It's super simple and warm and I just really really love it and I want to share the recipe with you guys! My lactose intolerant friends I'm going to apologize now because there is so much dairy in this recipe.

I wish I had a picture to share but I got ahead of myself and put the one I made today up already 😅

Tools:

Baking dish, I use a 9x13

Skillet

Oven or toaster oven big enough for your casserole dish

Steamer basket and a pot for it

Cutting board and a sharp knife (dull knives are dangerous!)

A way to shred cheese if not using pre-shredded

Ingredients:

1 egg

1/2 to 1 cup bread crumbs, unseasoned, plus about a third cup for the topping. I use panko

Lemon pepper seasoning, to taste. I used a few table spoons. Less is more, and you can always add, but can't take away.

About a cup to a cup and a half of sour cream

1 to 2 cups cheddar cheese, plus about a third a cup extra for the toping. I use sharp or extra sharp.

1 large sweet or yellow onion. Red or white will also work.

Several cloves of garlic. Measure it with your soul. My soul told me 5 large cloves.

Two to three large zucchini, whatever variety you like. Mom also uses yellow squash sometimes as well.

A couple table spoons of a neutral oil

Assembly

Preheat your oven to 375 F.

Cut your squash in half width wise and in half again length wise.

Add the squash to your steamer and let it go. Watch to make sure the water doesn't all evaporate out or ypu could scorch your pot.

Let the squash steam until it is fork tender all the way through. It will look more translucent.

Let the squash cool, then carefully with a spoon, scoop out the insides onto some paper towels, leaving the skins in tact for later.

Squeeze the squash insides in the towel to get rid of excess water.

Dice your onion and add it to a skillet with your oil. Sauté on medium to medium high until translucent and a little golden. This will take several minutes.

In the last minute of cooking, add your garlic, minced or crushed or measured out of a jar. Do you, boo, just get it in the pan. Sauté about 30 seconds or until fragrant.

In a large bowl, add your cooked onions and garlic, your egg, sour cream, cheese, lemon pepper seasoning and stir to combine.

Add the squash insides and combine.

Add your breadcrumbs a little at a time until the mixture has thickened. It doesn't need to be super stiff, but you don't want it runny. You may not use all the breadcrumbs, and that's OK.

Grease your baking dish.

Using the reserved squash skins, carefully line the baking dish.

Add your filling and spread evenly.

Mix your reserved bread crumbs and cheese with about a teaspoon of lemon pepper seasoning and spread it evenly over the casserole.

Bake, uncovered at 375 for about half an hour, or until the center is set and the top is golden brown.

Enjoy! Be careful, the filling will be like lava at first.

#food #recipes #zucchini #autumn ramblings

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revlyncox · 15 days

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Repair

This sermon draws from On Repentance and Repair: Making Amends in an Unapologetic World by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg. The book is this year's UUA Common Read. This sermon was delivered to The Unitarian Society in East Brunswick, NJ, on April 14, 2024, by Rev. Lyn Cox

We found ourselves, once again, on the pedestrian bridge over the creek in our neighborhood. It’s not unusual for one or more of us in our family to walk this way when the weather is nice. We make a point of going there together early in the Days of Awe, in the afternoon on Rosh Hashana or the next day or so afterward. At that point in the early autumn, we might have a little bit of color in the trees that hang over the creek, but mostly it’s green and dark and cool as we look over the railing to the rocky banks and the water below. For this trip, we brought breadcrumbs for the ritual of Taschlich.

Taschlich is a custom for Rosh Hashana in which we name our mistakes, name our commitment to do better, and let them go as we let the breadcrumbs fall into living water. This ritual assumes we have already done the person-to-person repair work leading up to the High Holidays. In Judaism, atoning for harm done to a person has to be done with that person; the work of repentance is relational. There is a process to that relational work, which I’ll get to in a moment. Assuming all of that has been done, tradition recognizes that people still need some closure, some way of physically letting go of the mistakes of the past, some way to acknowledge in our own hearts our intention to turn toward different choices in the future. That’s what Taschlich is for.

As I drop crumbs into the water, I think about the times when I have been impatient. I think about the times when I have allowed despair to get in the way of action. I think about the times I failed to be considerate to the people I love. I think about the times when I missed the opportunity to be fully present. When everyone in the family has finished letting go of their breadcrumbs and completed their personal meditations on change, we come back together for a prayer of release, then return home for a rest and maybe a holiday dinner with extended family.

Taschlich is special for Rosh Hashana, but even at the opposite pole of the year, it’s a good time to think about how we recognize our mistakes and commit to making different choices. There is no need to save up all of our apologies and amends for one particular time of year. Personally, I know I make mistakes every day. I hope that most of them are repairable within the space of a conversation, but of course some of the mistakes I make are bigger and require more effort of heart and mind and soul in order to atone, begin to change, make amends, apologize, and prepare for better choices in the future. Since every day is a day when I’m likely to make a mistake, every day is a good day to be prepared to turn toward repair.

With that in mind, I studied this year’s UUA Common Read, On Repentance and Repair: Making Amends in an Unapologetic World by Rabbi Dayna Ruttenberg. I have also subscribed to Rabbi Ruttenberg’s newsletter. In the book, she examines a classic work of Jewish ethics and applies it to problems in the present, adding some modern nuance and gender and power analysis along the way. She writes:

There is a model for meaningfully addressing harm—from the daily intimate sorts of harm that manifest in personal relationships to larger wrongs perpetrated at the level of a community or a culture, right up to genocide.

Of course, not every atrocity can be magically fixed, as though it never happened. But in the Jewish tradition…there is a robust and sophisticated system that can help people grapple with everything from embarrassing missteps to horrific evils and do the work in our power to repair and transform. And, I believe, useful for all of us—regardless of background, culture, religion or lack thereof—here, now, today. (Pp. 3-4)

Ruttenberg goes on to specify that we need to shift our culture to systems and ways of making amends that are centered in community care, rooted in concern for the wellbeing of the person or the people who have been harmed, and trauma informed. Sincere repentance and atonement are good for the person who does harm and is ready to change, yet Ruttenberg calls our attention to the person or people who have been most impacted. Their recovery, restitution for harm done to them, their peace of mind, these aspects of care for the person or people who have been hurt are more important than the redemption arc of the person or institution or country that instigated the harm.

Ruttenberg is analyzing and expanding on work by the medieval writer Maimonides, who was born in Córdoba around 1135CE. It stopped being safe for Jews there in 1148, and his family escaped, ending up in Egypt around 1168. He served as the physician to the sultan Saladin around the same time he began working on his Mishneh Torah, a fourteen-volume summary of Jewish law, including a section on The Laws of Repentance that informs Ruttenberg’s book. If you aren’t familiar with Maimonides, I think it’s important to note that his summary, while influential, is not the same as the whole Talmud, the oral Torah, which provides ancient foundations for Jewish ethics and practices. From the ancient sages to Maimonides to Ruttenberg, many generations of effort and thought and debate have brought us to this moment.

With credit being given, let’s look at the five steps of repentance that Maimonides outlines and that Ruttenberg contextualizes. They are: Naming and owning harm; starting to change; restitution and accepting consequences; apology; and making different choices when the opportunity arises. We won’t be able to deeply explore all five of these steps today. I do want to emphasize that this is a path for the person who has done harm. As Ruttenberg says, “In a moral universe, there is work to be done whenever harm is inflicted (p. 21).

Naming and owning harm comes first. And even that takes inner emotional work for the person who has made the mistake. We want to believe ourselves to be the protagonists of our own stories. It is hard to admit when we’ve done harm, whether we started with good intentions, or self-defense, or any of the other ways we end up missing the mark. Sometimes we figure out for ourselves that we messed up, and the inner voice of our empathy or conscience raises the issue with the other thoughts that contend within our minds and hearts. Sometimes the person we have hurt is generous enough to tell us. Sometimes a bystander or a trusted friend lets us know. And then there’s an inner struggle to actually listen to that voice, whether it’s our own conscience or someone else’s gift of feedback.

Once we have accepted the truth, and have stopped taking the harmful action, we make a confession. We aren’t talking about amends or apology yet, those are steps three and four. The confession should demonstrate an acceptance of responsibility, a clear description of what happened, an understanding of why the action was harmful, and a willingness to learn more about the impact of the mistake and the repair work that is ahead. Our confessions should help us identify for ourselves what went wrong and how to overcome the obstacles for doing the work of the other four steps.

This statement should be at a similar level of community impact as the original injury. If the mistake was in a closed chat group, the statement that acknowledges responsibility should be in the same group. If the mistake was in a live broadcast that reaches millions of people, the confession should reach a similar number of people.

For instance, there was a mistake I made in a worship service a few years ago, and I named it in worship the following week. We were doing a service about ancestors and heritage. The wisdom story was a book about a grandfather sharing stories and mementos with a grandchild, tracing a family story that included immigration. In a discussion about heritage and ancestry, we should remember that Indigenous people were always here and do not have immigration stories; and that descendants of enslaved people will have very different stories and feelings about their ancestors’ arrival in this country; and that families touched by adoption will have different feelings and connections with history. Ancestry is complicated. I did mention those points, but I did not say those things often enough or clearly enough during the service, and Black members in particular felt that their stories and families were not valued or acknowledged.

In this country and in our congregations, we are not a melting pot of people who all begin from equal places with equal resources. I had tried to design a service where each member could see themselves and appreciate their ancestors by family or their ancestors by choice, and I had instead created conditions where members felt alienated and unappreciated. I caused harm.

It took trust and courage for members to call that to my attention, and I am grateful that they did. The following week, I addressed my mistake from the pulpit, directly before the pastoral prayer. In this case, the first four steps flowed together: acknowledgement, beginning to change, accepting consequences, and apology. Sometimes, we need more space for beginning to change between the acknowledgement and the apology. I checked with the people who had brought the issue to my attention to see if there was further restitution or recommendations they had (accepting consequences is step three). They felt satisfied that I was on the path to repair and they accepted my apology.

I have continued to do reading and professional development to help me make better choices in the future. I will almost certainly mess up again with regard to inclusion and anti-oppression. I’m hoping to make fewer and gentler mistakes as I learn more, and to demonstrate continued openness to feedback from the people who are most impacted by racism and other forms of oppression.

So far we have covered naming and owning harm, starting to change, and accepting restitution and consequences. We have also touched a little bit on making different choices in the future, which is one of the marks of a complete process of repentance and repair. Before we close, we have to talk a little more about a sincere and useful apology.

Ruttenberg emphasizes that an apology is focused on the needs and the wellbeing of the person or people who have been harmed. It flows out of the work that the penitent person has already done in accepting accountability and beginning to change. Though the apology may include the words “I’m sorry,” that phrase in itself is not sufficient. The author writes:

[A]s with making amends, a real apology is not aimed at the person who has been hurt, but rather is given in relationship with them. It requires vulnerability and empathetic listening; it demands a sincere offering of regret and sorrow for one’s own actions. It requires understanding when approaching a victim might harm them further and navigating that with sensitivity. The goal is not to do more harm, but to do work that is healing, repairing. This means that the victim’s needs must be centered in the process, always. (pp. 41-42)

Ruttenberg, elsewhere in the book, reminds us that sometimes thinking an apology would further harm the person we have hurt is an excuse to try to get out of our ethical commitments. It’s good to have a mentor, an accountability partner, a program buddy, or a counselor to help work that through in a way that truly puts the needs of the most impacted at the center. The point is that we don’t apologize AT people; we remember that we are all part of something larger than ourselves, and we are seeking wholeness for the web of which we are a part as well as healing and peace for the person or people we have harmed.

An apology should be rooted in concern for the wellbeing of the people who are most impacted. A good apology follows the first three steps: Naming and owning harm, beginning to change, restitution and accepting consequences. A good apology puts aside for the moment the defenses, needs, and feelings of the person who is apologizing. A good apology expresses regret for one’s own actions, The apology may suggest ways that the penitent person is already working on change, thereby lending more support to the possibility that the person will not hurt people in the same way again in the future.

During the tashlich ritual for the past few years, and whenever I’m reviewing my mistakes and growth experiences, I have started to reflect on what will help me to overcome my obstacles for change. I commit to pausing and breathing so that I can speak in compassionate and patient ways. I commit to caring for myself and staying in contact with the people who encourage my best self so that I can take action when it’s conducive to my well being and that of the whole. I commit to ordering my priorities so that I can be as present as I am able to be, open to the joy and struggle of each moment as it comes. Making different choices in the future is the fifth step in the journey of atonement and repentance.

And so, we return again to the creek. I imagine I will, indeed, return at Rosh Hashana for Taschlich. Between now and then, I know I will cross over that bridge many times, remembering that I am capable of hurt, I am capable of being hurt, and we are capable of doing the work of repentance and repair. Let us name and own our mistakes, start to change, offer restitution and accept consequences, make sincere and complete apologies, and adapt our actions to make better choices in the future. Each day offers another chance to turn toward community care. May it be so.

#unitarian universalism #UUA common read #interfaith

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