#the grip this fictional character has on me is-

[princessviana]

Inkbound

CHAPTER 2

Pairings:

Yandere Taehyung x OC × Yandere Jungkook

Warning: This story is a work of fanfiction and is purely a product of the author's imagination. It does not depict any real-life events or individuals. While some characters may be inspired by real-life idols, their portrayal in this story is fictional and not representative of their true selves. Please note that this story may contain triggering content, including themes of abuse, gore, murder, humiliation, bullying, rape, and other mature and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised, especially for those under the age of 18. If you are uncomfortable with such content, it is recommended to refrain from reading and kindly disregard this story.

Fae's pov.

Where on earth am I and how the hell did I end up here?! This questions has been repeating in my mind for what feels like the hundredth time. I find myself lost in a seemingly endless maze of hallways, each one identical to the last, lined with countless doors. I've been wandering for hours, yet I'm no closer to finding the exit. My sense of freedom feels as elusive as ever.

I really want to see my family.

Suddenly, I overhear a group of maids conversing in hushed, panicked tones. The name "Yana" floats through the air, causing me to pause.

Yana?

Earlier, I heard the name Jungkook, and now Yana? These names sound eerily familiar, like the characters from a book I once read. But I shake the thought away. I need to focus on finding a way out of here.

As the sound of quick, hurried footsteps echo through the hallway, I panic and bolt towards the nearest door. Thankfully, it's unlocked. I slip inside and slam the door shut behind me, breathing a sigh of relief as the footsteps recede into the distance.

Suddenly, a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence, "What are you doing here?"

I flinched and whirl around in fear and find myself face-to-face with him.Again.

"You!" I exclaim, my eyes locking with the handsome, yet intimidating man I had encountered earlier in the hallway. He's lounging on a king-sized bed, dressed in a black robe that reveals a hint of his chest as he leans back casually.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. It's not the first time I've seen a man dressed in such a way, but something about him makes my skin tingle with heat. I quickly shake the thought away, reminding myself that I need to focus on escaping, not drooling on the man in front of me.

"I asked you a question, didn't I, Yana?" His voice, deep and alluring, pulls me back from my thoughts.

"I–um actually–I," I stutter badly and I don't know why I am being like this.I mentally scolded myself for my lack of composure.

"I WHAT? CAN YOU STOP STUTTERING!?" He suddenly shouts, causing me to flinch, he suddenly stood up and in an instant, he's standing before me. I attempt to open the door to escape, but he slams it shut again, causing me to squeak in surprise.

"Please – I was just looking for the exit," I manage to whisper, my gaze falling to the floor.

Silence fills the room before he finally speaks, "Are you fucking kidding me?" His harsh words cause me to flinch and I close my eyes in fear. I miss my brother, Jae. This man is terrifying.

"C–can you just let me go! I really want to go!" I summon the courage to shout at him, immediately regretting it when I see the murderous look in his eyes and I swear I see his eyes turned even more darker.

"Did you just fucking yell at me?" He asks quietly, his deep voice sending chills down my spine. He grasps my arms tightly, causing me to hiss in pain. I try to push him away as I put my hands in his chest as I attempted to get some distance from him, tears welling up in my eyes from the pain of his tight grip.

"Mister! You're hurting me!" I cry out in distress, tears now streaming down my cheeks. He looks at me blankly, seemingly uncaring of my pain.

He finally releases his grip, scoffing, "Mister, huh?" He laughs, a dark, chilling sound that sends a shiver down my spine. I quickly distance myself from him, confusion and fear swirling within me.

'What's wrong with him?Does he have anger issues or something?'

"Where did Honey go?" He asks suddenly that made me look at him again, his voice cold and detached.

I frowned at that before sighing in frustration.

'What in the world was he talking about?'

"You're not my lover to be called like that!" I shout back, taken aback by his question.

...

We suddenly fall into an awkward silence and I don't know if I said something bad or what,as he just look at me blankly and it's really uncomfortable as he only stared at me blankly.

"Get out," he finally orders, walking away from the door and disappearing into what I assume is his bathroom. I seize the opportunity to escape the room,away from this crazy man, once again finding myself lost in the maze of hallways.

~

Author's perspective

As the man hears the slam of his bedroom door, he sighs, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He frowns, thinking back to the interaction with the woman. Shaking his head, he chuckles quietly to himself, unties his bathrobe, and steps into his bathtub. His mind is still consumed by the thoughts of her.

"What's happening with you again?" He murmurs to himself, closing his eyes.

Minutes pass, but he finds himself growing increasingly agitated. He recalls her shouting at him for the first time. Despite the times he had hurt or yelled at her, she had never once raised her voice at him. This sudden change in her behavior leaves him feeling restless, a feeling he doesn't particularly enjoy.

"God damn it! Get it out of your head! It's just a yell and it made you restless!" He scolds himself, gritting his teeth.

Why is he so affected by a simple change in a woman's attitude?

No, he convinces himself, it's just because he's not used to it. He groans, running his fingers through his wet hair.

Meanwhile, Fae finally breathes a sigh of relief when she spots a staircase leading down to what she assumes is a living room. She can't help but giggle in joy, relief washing over her. She's finally found a way out of this strange house.

Just as she's about to descend the stairs, she overhears a conversation that stops her in her tracks. She turns to see the same man from earlier, the one who had nearly choked her, talking to a girl she doesn't recognize.

"Nara, please stay. She won't hurt you anymore, I promise, okay?"

'Nara? Again? Another name from the book?!'

"But, Jungkook, I'm scared. What if she will hurt–" The girl's words trail off as her gaze lands on Fae, who is standing on the stairs. The girl gasps and hides behind Jungkook.

Jungkook follows her gaze and locks eyes with Fae, who is frozen on the stairs. Fae breaks their gaze and continues her descent, heading towards the front door, completely ignoring them.

Jungkook frowns, watching as Fae disappears outside through the door.This behavior is unusual for her. She would normally become furious if she caught him talking to Nara. This change leaves him feeling perplexed but shrugged it off as he again face the scared woman and embrace her.

...

Meanwhile, Fae continued her sprint towards what she perceived as freedom. The sight of the magnificent golden gates filled her with delight, and a joyous laugh escaped from her lips as she relished the feeling of liberation. Finally, she thought, running at full speed towards the gates.

But just as she was about to touch the gates, she found herself being lifted off her feet, swept into the air that made her shout suddenly in startlement,panic surged within her as she closed her eyes and silently pleaded for the person to let her go, her body tense. Strong arms was wrapped around her waist, setting her back on her feet, away from the gates.Turning her head and glaring at the man responsible for stopping her, she got awestruck suddenly when she sees a handsome man closed to her and it suddenly vanished her anger as the man grinned at her with such a beautiful smile.

"Can we talk, Yana?" he asked suddenly that made her snap out of her staring to the man, his words now causing her to frown as she came to a standstill, halting her resistance.

'what did he call me?'

"I'm not Yana!" she retorted forcefully, watching as he blinked a couple of times before mumbling something under his breath.

"So, they were telling the truth," he muttered, causing her to question what he meant, while still trying to free herself from his grasp.

"Let's go. I know Uncle is looking for you," he said, his tone turning cold as he dragged her towards the mansion once again, her protests falling on deaf ears.

Reluctantly, Fae allowed herself to be pulled along, feeling the weight of resignation settle upon her.

Then the next she found herself in a living room surrounded by eight unknown people, their glaring eyes making her feel small and insignificant.

Intimidated, she lowered her gaze, avoiding their piercing stares.

"Yana."

Then, a raspy voice rang out, calling the name Yana again. Fae again looked up, her brows furrowing as she met the gaze of the man who had spoken.

"Are you calling me Yana?" she asked, her fear and confusion evident.

'Yana? Why are they calling me that? Wait – no! That's absurd! Realization dawned on her suddenly, bringing with it a wave of absurdity that was difficult for her to comprehend.

Jungkook, then Nara, and now Yana?

This couldn't be a coincidence any longer. Fae's mind swirled with fear, unable to fully grasp the unfolding events.

No, this is absurd! she thought to herself, fear gripping her as she struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Who else here goes by the name Yana?" a deep mocking voice interrupted her thoughts, prompting her to look at the man who suddenly speaks.

' him again?'

Wait! If Jungkook was the man to the left, then who was this other man? A sudden chill ran down her spine as she hastily scrambled away from him, retreating until her back was pressed against the far end of the plush couch. The man looked at her, his expression one of confusion, mirroring the baffled looks of everyone else in the room.

"Yana, I've been informed about your recent actions. Is it true?" The older man who had addressed her earlier, presumably in his 50s, asked again, his eyes filled with concern.

"What do you mean by that?" Fae questioned, her tone laced with distress, which only seemed to annoy the man.

A scoff from the left drew her attention back to Jungkook, who was glaring at her, leaning back in his chair with his arms and legs crossed. "What's your problem, huh?" Fae retorted, her irritation evident in her voice. This caused a ripple of shock to spread through the room, especially amongst the two younger men.

'What's with them? Is this the first time they've heard a woman speak up? Because right now, I'm guessing it is.' Fae thought, rolling her eyes at them before returning her glare to Jungkook, who was now clenching his jaw and glaring back even more intensely. Their staring contest was interrupted when the older man cleared his throat, effectively drawing everyone's attention.

"Yana, this is the last time I will tolerate your reckless behavior! I'll let it slide this time!" He declared, standing up and swiftly exiting the room, followed by two other men. This left only six of them in the room: herself, the two men she had met earlier, and the man who had dragged her here.

"What's going on with you, Yana? Is this another—" The man who had brought her here attempted to break the silence, only to be cut off by a single glare from her.

"Don't call me that!" Fae yelled furiously, standing up as she was overcome with confusion and frustration. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and unable to hold them back any longer, she broke down crying in front of the five men.

"Hey! What did you do to noona!?" Suddenly, a young boy burst into the living room upon hearing the sound of a girl crying. He was met with the sight of Fae in tears, while the men could only exchange helpless looks, unsure of what to do next.

Taehyung, on the other hand, scoffed in disbelief, assuming that this was just another one of her tactics to gain sympathy. He stood up and left the room, followed by Jungkook, leaving the girl crying on the couch. Everyone else also departed, except for the young boy who hugged the weeping woman tightly, their minds filled with the assumption that she, whom they believed to be Yana, was once again trying to manipulate them into pitying her and taking her side.

As minutes passed, Fae gradually calmed down, thanks to the comforting presence of the boy who refused to let go of her. She lifted her head to look at him, and he offered her a white towel to wipe away her tears. Gratefully, she accepted it and smiled at the boy with all her heart.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, noona. But why were you crying again?" the boy innocently asked, tilting his head in confusion. Fae sighed and shook her head, unsure of how to explain that she felt like she was trapped in a story or perhaps even a dream. She hoped desperately that she would wake up from this ordeal soon, as being here felt like being in a living hell. She could sense the pain and sadness that consumed the person she assumed was Yana,that she was in, both physically and mentally.

"What's your name, little guy?" Fae asked, diverting the conversation.

The boy looked at her with surprise but answered, "I'm Kim Taehoon, noona. Do you really not remember us?"

Fae's breath caught in her throat.

'Kim Taehyung's little brother... So, I really am in a book?!' she thought, still in shock at what was happening. She sighed and nodded her head.

'If I'm really here, then I am Yana?'

"What's my name again?" Fae asked, seeking confirmation.

"You're Yana," Taehoon answered, grinning at her.

'Oh God! Wait... If I was her, then I can finally change that woman's fate!' Fae suddenly stood up, a plan brewing in her mind. She smiled widely and laughed to herself, leaving Taehoon wide-eyed as he watched her grinning at something in the distance, which turned out to be a large vase of flowers.

"What's so funny about those flowers?" Taehoon scratched his head, perplexed, before looking back at Fae, who was still lost in her thoughts, staring at the vase with a grin.

Meanwhile, Fae was busy planning her stay in this dream, if that's indeed what it was. She was still waiting to wake up, aware of the danger that lurked within the pages of this book, especially with those two individuals. She looked down at the boy again and sat down, holding Taehoon's little hands in hers. Taehoon smiled sweetly at her.

'Kim Taehoon, the child character of the book. He was accidentally shot by Yana when she and Nara were fighting in this very living room. Yana accidentally fired the gun, and poor Taehoon got caught in the crossfire. But this time, I promise you'll live. But first, I need to know what this girl did to end up in this state again.'

"Can I ask you something, Taehoon?" Fae spoke softly, and Taehoon nodded.

"Um, you see, I'm still experiencing memory loss or something. Can you tell me what I did before I... you know, before I had this memory loss?"

Taehoon looked away for a moment before clearing his throat, ready to share what she needed to know.

"The whole family except your father,attended a party celebration. While we were there, you followed Nara noona to the restroom upstairs. We heard you arguing, and then we saw you both pulling each other's hair. You tripped and fell down the stairs, but luckily, the stairs weren't very high."

Taehoon's voice carried a hint of sadness.

'So, the party was organized by the Parks. This is the event that leads to her downfall, where she gets framed by Nara. That b*tch... Let's see who becomes the villain now,'Fae thought, internally smirking as she stood up.

"You should go, Taehoon. Your tutor will be here soon—"

Just as she was about to finish her sentence, the door swung open, and a tall, well-built man in a white polo shirt and black pants entered, wearing glasses. Fae found herself drooling over this angelic figure, and the man smiled as his eyes landed on the two of them, revealing his dimples. Fae internally squealed in delight.

Kim Namjoon.

Fae smirked, recognizing the character from the dimples on his handsome face.

'Kim Namjoon, Kim Taehoon's genius tutor. He's secretly in love with Yana, but she chases after the wrong guys, those two psychos. Why chase after them when there's someone better? This man has been silently loving Yana and helping her whenever she's in need. When she discovered his love for her, she used it for her own gain, dragging him down along with Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook, and the four other men to kill her in the end.'

"Long time no see, beautiful," Namjoon greeted her with a compliment, his deep voice making her blush. He relished in the sight of her blushing, feeling complete as the beautiful woman before him reacted to his words,for the first time.

"Nice to see you too, Joonie," Fae smirked, using the nickname she had given him when she was reading the book. Namjoon widened his eyes in shock, blushing even more than she did. He couldn't believe that the woman he had secretly loved had given him a nickname.

'Kim Namjoon, nice to finally meet you,' Fae thought, her smirk growing wider.

#bts v #bts #jeon jungkook #bangtan #kim taehyung #possessive #psychopath #bts ot7 #love #yandere jungkook #taehyung yandere #taehyung vante #obsessed bts #tumblr fyp #yandere x reader #yandere taehyung #yandere bts #jungkook yandere #yandere #inkbound #princessviana

[kasumingo]

how is that even the business or the fault of the artist

are you for real, take some responsibility

#about f!leo #your feelings are no one else's responsibility #it doesn't mean you're not allowed to feel that way but how the hell is that anyone's business but yours #'it makes me uncomfortable' then you deal with it privately? #txt #that is not you that is a fictional character get a grip #'an exception is that if someone feels bad about it' then don't look at it #the artist doesn't need to hear about it NOR being called out because of this #'an exception' tsk so your solution is to shun the artist? #and not think 'this is not about me?' #of course everything has to be about you lol

[pkmndaisuki]

so i play pokemon masters (haven't spent a single cent on it) and they added this friendship/pseudo-dating sim type thing in recently and oh no my old sycamore feelings are coming back, rearing their head after nearly a decade

#pokemas #pokemon masters #augustine sycamore #professor sycamore #help i've fallen for a fictional french pokemon professor and i can't get up #i had to look up how i worded that tag since it's been ages since i used it #the grip this character still has on me is something else man i miss x and y

[serendipetite]

no matter how much time has passed, i can see ONE jiang cheng thing and immediately want to eat glass

#THE PAIN I FEEL #this damn fictional character and the vice grip he has on me #my problematic fave #jiang cheng

[sonohban]

come to think of it i don't know if i'd be into db nearly as much as i am rn if i didn't start just before dbssh released.... timing is crazy

#yeah an entomologist fictional character has me in his grip that badly #me making caveman noises and pointing vigorously at the screen when i see gohan's entomology textbooks #instant transmission

[shimmershy]

I need you guys to know that I spent the better part of today cross referencing The Owl House episodes trying to piece together Caleb and Philip's entire backstory. I'm so invested. I need to know absolutely everything there is to know about them.

#now you know the sad truth... i am NOT normal about fictional characters... so sad #sorry to my followers who follow me for undertale.... which is probably most of you guys lol. the owl house has me in its death grip. #but GENUINELY all day my brain has been like HOW CAN I ANALYZE THIS SITUATION IN A WAY THAT MAKES IT 100X MORE TRAGIC? #in regards to the wittebane brothers #and by extension hunter #i think i can safely say i am Emotionally Attached #oops #the owl house #toh #things I say

[surunoita]

finished my first playthru of disco elysium ✌️ playing it actually myself def was the right call except now i'm in anguish because i want to be a part of making something that beautiful wahh

#suru.txt #ive seen maybe two? playthroughs before i played it myself #idk the writing and artwork are just so otherworldly it gives me so many feelings i couldn't even begin to decipher #anyway kim kitsuragi is the most character ever no one has or ever will top the grip that fictional man has on me #now i wanna cry!!!!!!

[floorpancakes]

akawata

kavetham

wangxian

the girls from she loves to cook and she loves to eat

these ships and more occupy a part of my brain that's labelled 'somewhat douwatacore so you can gain mildly adjacent but fun and unique vibes' in scribbled sharpie

#especially akawata holy shit #that being said im a huge akawataozu shipper LMAOOOO #in the watashi has two hands way #even though hes a fucking LOOOOOSERRRRRRR #why cant that be me #i too want funny deadpan idgaf queen gf and funny insane creature from the black lagoon causes problems on purpose bf #listen #im a simple guy i have simple dreams (delusion) #ok but i need to rewatch tatgal asap cause when i realised one of the closest characters to doumeki in fiction was akashi it blew my mind #kavetham is the most popular and its not the EXACT same obviously but it does make me want to recommend holic to anyone that likes them #like none of these are exactly the same they all just have at one significant shared vibe LOL #i could widen this out also to ships where theyre not actually douwatacore they just have watanuki-like glasses characters #which is a LOT #please dont take this super seriously although i recommend all of the above for fun familiar vibes lol #please dont be put off by the one mf ship theyre so bi4bi to me watashi is just stupid #also PLEASE READ SHE LOVES TO COOK AND SHE LOVES TO EAT #I cant find many translations that go past like 19 chapters atm but its such a good yuri and it #has a pretty tight grip on commentary about social standards for women and queer ppl in general its so goooooood #plus the food and girls eating are lovingnly drawm.....love is real 🫶 #the social commentary part lowkey reminds me of double house a bit although double house is more jaded #not that im complaining #'lesbians complaining and sitting about eating and drinking and vibing in apartments' should be a genre im sick of it not being a genre #idm if theyre like. complaining about serious issues or just like the weather they should be allowed to complain #i got off topic there but yuri .....goood.....

[kyaruun]

so i just checked and kamigami no asobi 10th anni is on 24th october... putting aside the mental damage that caused (i started playing in like 2015?) i just ran to pick up my fanbook because i know someone's bday IS in october and

these absolute madmen released the game on loki's birthday AS THEY SHOULD 🙏 apollon might have been the anime poster boy but we know who the real poster boy in this series is <3333

#kuu.txt #if you think i'm insane about fictional characters #you can't even begin to comprehend the absolute grip this man has had on my brain for years #absolutely insane. he's everything to me #i almost remember some scenes line by line #i've played his route wayy past 4 times already #he's so well written. his route is the perfect mix between funny times ft hearbreaking angst #and no one talks enough about his outfits #like yeah everyone is fanservicey but this dork took fanservice to a brand new level #but he's so. so cat shaped. clingy cat that annoys you because he loves you and doesn't know how to express love and #sighs lovingly

[jennifer-jeong]

[Smut] [AFAB!Reader] Men Who Get Feral With You

CONTENT

NSFW, 18+, smut, AFAB reader, implied feminine reader, fictional men being fucking nasty with you, hard kinks, multiple orgasm, fingering, choking, spitting, slapping, breast play, biting, marking, blood, praise, degredation, daddy kink, creampie, aftercare!, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

FUSHIGURO TOJI, RYOMEN SUKUNA, MIGUEL O’HARA, WRIOTHESLEY, Childe

Word Count: 747

He’ll squish your face with his hands to make you look him dead in the eyes as he uses 3 fingers to pull another orgasm out of your aching cunt that’s still waiting to be filled up properly.

“Yeah, c’mon baby, you can handle it… Just like that princess,” he’ll say as you convulse on him as waves of pleasure wash over you.

He’ll bottom out in you immediately, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. You’re especially tight from your orgasm only seconds ago but he loves the squeeze and the fact that you’re absolutely dripping with your own release. He slides in easily despite the extra resistance.

He also gives you no warning before immediately starting off at an insane pace. The rough sound of skin slapping already filling the room.

“Mmmf-fuckkk, have I not fucked you properly recently? Y’pussy's fucking squeezing me,” he says while knowing you can barely respond from how fucked out you already are. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your body remembers me tonight.”

He pushes your legs up and folds you in half as he continues his relentless pace, bruising your cervix as he hits you so deep he can’t even bottom out. He’s too big for you but you take him so well anyways.

He’s so fucking filthy with you. He’ll lean back to stop breaking you in half just so he can choke you with both hands. It’s overkill but you love the light headed feeling you get. Your vision blurs as your tongue lolls out slightly. Your heartbeat is in your ears as the sinful sound of skin slapping starts to dampen, your eyes rolling back into your skull.

He fucking loves seeing you so cock drunk for him as he chokes you. Drool starts dripping down the side of your mouth as he rams into you hard, abusing your sore cunt.

When he releases you, you let out a deep groan as the blood flows back into your delirious mind. Your senses hit you like a truck and the bruising grip he has on your hips turns into pleasure.

“Yeahh, fucking take it sweetheart, I know you can,” he groans. “Be a good girl and open up.”

You open your mouth wide to accept the string of saliva he drops into it. Your eyes are lidded as you swallow it.

“T-thank- Ah! Hngg… Thank you d-daddy,” you whimper.

“Good fucking girl, such a good slut f’me.”

He’ll grip your tits hard and give them slaps from time to time as he uses you as his personal fleshlight, not that you mind.

When he gets close he’ll start marking you like he’s in fucking heat. Biting the sensitive part on your neck, sucking at your skin until it bruises. Sometimes he even breaks skin, lapping up the metallic blood that seeps out.

He always likes to make sure you cum with him though. He’ll aim for your spongey spot as he rubs rough circles into your clit.

“Mmph! D-daddy- feels s’good… m’gonna fucking cumm.”

“Yeah? You deserve it baby. Let go.”

You clamp down hard on him, your orgasm finally fully hitting you as he stuffs you full. You throw your head back in a silent moan before high pitched sobs fill the room. You’re barely even registering his words or how bruisingly he’s fucking you at this point. He’s helping you ride your high but it feels like you’re barely coming down, the waves of pleasure keep coming.

“S-shit- c-cumming” he says before bottoming out, his cock twitching as he fills you with his hot cum. He rocks back and fourth as he fucks it all into you.

Your body is shaking and your legs clamp on the sides of his body, wanting to close from the overstimulation. He leans forward to kiss your neck as you both catch your breaths.

When he eventually pulls out, he’ll collect the cum flowing out of you and stuff it back into your weeping hole, not wanting to waste any of it.

He always treats you so gently afterwards though. He’ll run you a bath, give you a nice massage, make sure you use the washroom, and make you some tea.

He gets so feral for you that you wonder if he’s really the same person with how sweet he is with you during aftercare. But, you both know that you just bring out that side of him, he can’t help it when it comes to you.

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST<3 ||

#jjk smut #atsv smut #spiderverse smut #genshin smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #childe x reader #childe smut #tartaglia smut #j's silly ramblings

[dreamlifebunny]

dream life daydreams: being with your sp!

an “imaginal act” is a scene you play out in your imagination that implies your wish has been fulfilled. the scene can use any of the five senses, and can be as long or as short as you want; what matters is the feeling that it evokes in you! i like to refer to my imaginal acts as “daydreams,” because the word reminds me of when i was a creative child who’s imagination was limitless.

instructions: take these imaginal acts and put yourself there in imagination! tweak the details to match your desires, personal details, and preferences, and use the senses that you have in your imagination to fully immerse yourself.

seeing:

imagine picking up your phone like you always do throughout the day and seeing your background light up; it's a picture of you and your sp holding hands that you took last month on a date. your sp has the biggest grin you've ever seen, and is looking at you with eyes filled with love and adoration for you!

or, the inverse: imagine your sp passing you their phone to take a picture of them or to show you a text they got, and seeing their background is an adorable picture of you that they absolutely love looking at every day!

hearing:

imagine you and your sp are out with friends at a party or event. both of you are doing your own thing, talking to friends and making the rounds, but both of you are still in the same room and nearby. while you go to the entrance of the room to get a drink, you overhear your sp's voice as they talk to one of their friends: "seriously, being with (your name) has been the best thing to have ever happened to me. they make my life so much better, it's seriously crazy for me to believe that they wanted to be with me when i've been pining after them for so long." you can hear their friend congratulate them, telling your sp, "i haven't seen you this happy in forever!"

touching:

imagine your sp sitting next to you and reaching down to intertwine their fingers with your own. their thumb traces back and forth over your thumb, slowly and thoughtfully. notice how their hand feels; are their hands soft or calloused? are their fingers warm or cold? do they hold your hand tightly, or in a soft and gentle grip?

smelling:

imagine your sp going in to hug you, and their soft and familiar scent fills the air and warms your heart! what do they smell like?

tasting:

imagine your sp cooking your favourite food and eating it together; do they do the recipe justice and impress you? is it the most disgusting thing you've ever eaten, but was made with love?

bonus!

try picking one of these scenes and incorporate all five senses instead of just the one mentioned! does it feel immersive?

try imagining these scenes with your comfort characters instead of your sp! you can manifest fictional characters the same way that you'd manifest any sp; give it a try and have fun!

love, bunny 💕

#law of assumption #neville goddard #manifestation #edward art #manifesting #loa #loassumption #dream life #things to manifest #manifest #manifesting ideas #scripting #visualization #daydreaming #bunny's originals #imaginal acts

[submalevolentgrace]

Hi! I'm very interested in attempting to write a disabled character (not for this blog, I assure, for an book I'm writing) in which the story doesn't fetishize/objectify her prosthetic limb. I'm in many writing circles and have been for a long while, but I've never seen this issue brought to light which I realise is a very important one. I have much to change in my thought process, and thank you for bringing this issue to attention.

I'm curious, and I apologise if this has been asked before, but what sort of design could you see for a functional prosthetic that doesn't go for a plainly aesthetic appearance, or is soully to please others? I do note that you said prosthetics are generally... not that helpful. So is there a way that it could be? Or do you think it would always generally be better to not use a prosthetic, as its mostly for aesthetic purposes, as you said?

I apologise if this ask is too outright or anything, and I don't mean to intrude. Thank you for your time and have a beautiful day!

okay, i want to answer this as in depth as possible, because whenever i talk about having a prosthesis, someone will always tag some variation of "#writing reference" and i do wonder what message they're taking away, and i want to get as much of my experience out as possible to maybe help shape how this is all portrayed in the future. and yeah… this is gonna be one of those rambly smg posts that the expand feature was invented for, so i'll start with the very abridged TL;DR:

if you're writing a character with an upper limb prosthesis; don't. arm amputees are unicorn level rare even compared to leg amputees, and i've never interacted with or even heard of an upper limb amputee that regularly uses a prosthesis, let alone relies on one. fiction has lied to you for the sake of cool aesthetics, don't repeat the cycle. more in depth writing advice including nuance and "but i waaaant to" will follow.

that said, grab your donning parachute and let's get started...

context for everyone involved: i am an upper limb amputee that rants a lot about how prostheses suck, i lost my right hand roughly five years ago at roughly the age of 30 after a very rough decline in health… it was pretty rough. this question is being asked in the context of a previous rant post of mine, and i checked that the ask is about an upper limb prosthesis in particular.

the situation regarding the usefulness of lower limb prostheses is totally different; i am definitely no expert, but by all accounts, prosthetic legs are incredibly useful for many people. getting a good leg can be absolutely life changing and more or less necessary for day to day life for some; mostly because infrastructure and society is just so fucking hostile to wheelchair users. being able to walk - at the cost of pressure sores and rashes and increased residual limb pain - is a preferable option to many people than being unable to fit through a doorway or in a bathroom stall or find out that the key to unlock the only elevator is in the admin office up three flights of stairs (true story).

but upper limb prostheses… see, the thing is, hands are incredibly complex organs that rely on a lot of immediate haptic feedback to work at all. hand dexterity is all about control, you need fine granular movements of the digits yes, but you also need the subtle sensations of pressure and proprioception in order to adjust your movements on the fly. i speak from experience, in the years leading up to the full loss of my hand, i was slowly losing function of it, usually swinging between numbness that made it clumsy at best, or screaming overstimulation from moving it at all resulting in unpredictable spasms… and let me tell you, a half working hand is infuriating to try and deal with. you can never know if you have a good grip on something or if it's slipping because of the wrong amount of pressure, and there's only so many smashed bottles of pickles on the floor before you give up using it all together… so amputation wasn't a great loss there, i had time to adapt.

a prosthetic hand of any kind has all of those issues and more. they're heavy and bulky, the cosmetic faux fingers or gripping claw have crude movement at best, and there's zero feedback (put a pin in this). 100% of the time you're using a prosthetic hand you have to keep your eyes on the grip and visually guesstimate whether or not the thing you're carrying is held tight enough but not too tight, that is if your "heavy duty" prosthesis can even support the weight without the servos disengaging or the wrist attachment socket just busting loose. i dropped a whippersnipper on my foot last week when my socket couldn't take the weight and i think that was the final straw in me desperately trying to prove to myself that there is a single task my prosthesis actually helps with.

this is usually where fully two handed people start talking about bleeding edge DARPA tech, and how we just need to invest more,research more, develop more. better tech, more tech, neural integration, more more more. okay i promise the writing advice is coming! for starters on tech, my experience is already with a mid-to-high end ottobock terminal device: i've got a myoelectric nerve-signal operated proportional control heavy duty greifer; about the only upgrade left for me to get would be a rotating wrist joint if i could coflex. it's not military, it's not "rockclimber that owns a prosthetic company", but it's quality tech. it still fucking sucks. secondly, that high level military tech exists primary for PR purposes so they can say they treat their discarded casualties well, "we can rebuild him, we have the technology" style. every war vet i've read about or heard from that's been gifted that high level tech also abandons it for the same reasons; it's imprecise, there's no feedback (or the haptic interface has to be fully recalibrated every time they put it on), but mostly they're more capable without one.

okay, the transhumanist ableds say (i should know, i used to be one), what if we did more ~research and development~ and got that neural feedback working? then we could have fireproof superhumanly strong robot arms to fix up everyone! here's where i take out that pin we put up before and i tell you that a class of prosthetic arms/hands already exists that has perfect proportional control, fine motor control, and physics perfect pressure feedback piped directly into the patients' existing sensory systems! they're called body-powered prostheses, and they were invented in like the 1600s. you strap a whole bunch of stuff to your arm and shoulders shoulders, and control the operation of the terminal device and elbow through cable tension by flexing your shoulders. they do take a considerable amount of training to operate - though hell i spent 18 months training to use my myo - but based on everything i've read, body-powered prostheses are the best option if you're an upper limb amputee and absolutely need a second hand for some reason.

but they don't look cool and futuristic, and according to my prosthetist, most people give up on using them too. we all give up on our prostheses, no matter the type. my rehab OT was impressed i lasted the 18 months of my training. towards the end, they even asked if the clinic director could drop in to one of my sessions to see my progress; he expressed genuine amazement at me casually using my bulky robot claw to use a brush and dustpan, and made an offhanded (hah) comment about what someone can achieve "if they stick it out to the end", implying it was somewhat of a rarity for me to have done so. several years on, and yesterday i wedged the dustpan between my ankles to sweep up into it, awkward but exponentially less effort than putting my dusty robot arm on. which, by the way, is a whole thing. look up some videos, they're all awful to don. i don't actually know the official technical name of what my clinic calls a "parachute" but it's a bitch to use! have you ever tried to pull back with your arm whilst also pushing it forwards at the same time, and simultaneously lean in to and away from an external force pulling on you? that's how you get a myo socket on.

bare with me, i promise writing advice is coming, and i promise it's more than the tl;dr. but. remember when i said a half working hand is infuriating to deal with? any prosthesis, from fancy myo tech to pirate-era body powered, will only ever be half as good as a working hand, and being juuuust within capability to do something but not quite able to is maddening! but you know what works way better than a half working hand? no hand at all. using whatever residual/vestigial limb you have - whatever "stump" you have, i hate that word - is pretty much always better than trying to use a prosthesis. i can use the inside of my elbow to grip and carry things, i can use the nub of my arm to apply pressure to hold things, open doors, use a computer mouse, turn on taps and lights, if i put a glove over it i can use it to prep for cooking. i have full proprioception and pressure feedback with skin contact, i don't think i've ever dropped and broken anything from my elbow, unlike countless things slipped from my greifer - which, by the way, absolutely will start clenching as tight as it can if i get even slightly too sweaty around the electrodes, which has both broken things i'm holding and also injured me, because surprise surprise but servo operated robot claws have pinch points on them right near the "emergency disengage" lever for some reason!

but i am exponentially more capable without it on than with it. no, i'm not fully independent, i rely on housemates and loved ones to help me out with some tasks that simply just need two handed dexterity, but none of those tasks are things a prosthesis makes me able to do anyway. i used to imagine my prosthesis would be like a bra; a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but i'd wear it throughout the day because it's helpful and take it off in the evening to decompress. in reality it's actually exactly like a bra: an absolute bitch to put on one handed, unbearably uncomfortable because it never sits right, ugly af unless you're a millionaire, and absolutely useless except for the fact that i get gawked at and judged by strangers if i leave the house without it on.

and if you really want to discover how far "no hand is better than a half working hand" goes, brace yourself, and look up the patient's stories (not medical system stories) of people that have had hand transplants. the first man to receive one hated it, he was promised a return to normal function, and what he got was a nightmare worse than being one handed; he wanted it removed again but the doctors refused because it would undermine their grand achievement of the first hand transplant. the doctors and society wanted him to be fixed, they wanted him to be normal, they wanted him to be abled. they failed. they made him less able to do things, denied his autonomy, and left him with someone else's hand slowly rotting on him, prioritising the idea of "scientific progress" and "two hands good" over the physical health, mental health, and ability to function of this man.

he's not alone; every story from the patients' perspective about hand transplants that i've read goes this way, including a woman who was born quad limb different and was promised hands would improve her life, pressured into a double hand transplant, only to find herself after the surgery essentially experiencing disability for the first time ever, because she had lived her whole life getting by just fine with her 'underdeveloped' limbs, but half working hands are worse than useless. you can try to find these stories yourself, but i'm not going looking for sources on any of these cases, because if you look back through enough of my posts you'll get a glimpse of the horrors and abuses that i too was put through by doctors who prioritised trying to "fix" me at any cost, rather than providing me the best quality of life, and in turn traumatised me and left me more broken than any loss of limb on its own could. dear goddess, i promise the writing advice is coming.

so. why do upper limb prostheses exist at all? if they're so terrible and useless, what is their function? i want to borrow something someone else left in the tags of a previous rant here, from someone who i believe works in prosthetics and/or rehab, cleaned up and anonymised at their request:

"upper limb functions are wildly more complex than: 1) bear weight static, and 2) bear weight moving. but every single upper limb amputee i know has a fancy expensive prosthetic just gathering dust in the closet because there is literally nothing it can do like a few years of adjustment and if needed non-dominant hand retraining can't do. the existence of forquarter prosthetics to begin with is just kind of silly and useless and entirely to make OTHER people feel comfortable, especially considering they universally are UNcomfortable for the amputee. i hate the notion that as soon as you get the amputation the prosthetic is The Thing That Will Fix You And Make You Feel Normal again because it universally isn't! but every forequarter person i know had like this ideal of Being Fixed By Magic Prosthetic that they were then obviously wildly disappointed by and had to do yet another grieving process with, versus if the dominant narrative were just one of: yeah. it'll take time, there is no magic fix."

and i think that really nails down what the actual purpose of upper limb prostheses is: they're not for the user, they're for the sake of other people. and not just their comfort when looking at our bodies, although based on the pressure for both amputees and people born limb different to get functionless cosmetic plastic hands, there is a lot of that. but it's not just that.

i fully believe that the reason prosthetic hands exists is to comfort the fears of the two handed. "don't worry", they say, "we can fix you again. you don't have to fear becoming Disabled, you don't have to worry about adapting or your life changing. we can make you Normal™ again."

you would not believe the number of people that have approached me to shower me with pity, to tell me how horrific my life is, how they can't imagine it. people have told me, apropos of nothing, that they'd kill themselves if they lost a hand. indirectly, that my life isn't worth living. unless, of course, i happen to be wearing my cool as fuck looking robot prosthesis! then they tell me how wonderful it is, how lucky i am, how glad they are that we have the technology to fix me. that's what a prosthetic hand says, what all the happy fishing photos on limbs4life posters at the rehab clinic say: don't worry, we can fix you. that's what the bleeding edge DARPA flexi-whatever fully articulated neuro-feedback hands say: don't worry if you get IED'd while hunting civilians for us to drone bomb, if you get hurt, we will fix you, we will fix the fuck out of you, we will motherfucking adam jensen you into a cool as fuck cyborg that your son will idolise; come on boys, don't you wanna enlist just for the chance at being as cool as this? join the bomb squad for a ticket to the upgrade lottery.

and so we arrive at fiction. as much as his dialogue options protest, adam jensen loves his robot arms, they punch through walls, turn into fucking swords! they make him the most special man in the world. what would he do without them? learn to cope? grieve? practice acceptance? take up poetry? just, be disabled? there's no power fantasy for ableds in that.

in fact, can you think of a single fictional character that's an upper limb amputee that's, well, just an amputee? they all have robot arms. not realistic prostheses, not medical devices; robot arms. sleek or bulky, top of the line or broken down self built, steampunk or nanomachines or magitech automail; they're never without them. never just an amputee. never born limb different either! there's always that element of tragedy to overcome, always suffering and misery porn, always focus on the pain and the helplessness without the absolutely vital robot arm that makes them Normal and Whole. the closest amputee example i can think of is furiosa from mad max, who iirc fucking punches max in the face with her residual limb like a motherfucking badass! i can barely lean on mine wrong and she punches a guy! but she still apparently needs a dieselpunk robot hand to drive a truck, something you can do one handed so easily most drivers don't even notice they're doing it! please don't, by the way

and so many disabled fans love to point to robot armed characters as disability representation; the winter soldier, luke skywalker, edward elric, misty knight, that genderswapped furry girl from ratchet and clank, jet cowboybebop, finn the human, and yes, adam jensen…. these are all characters that someone disabled i know has told me they love because they "represent disabled bodies"…. and i know nobody wants to hear this, because i've been screamed at for saying it before, but… they do not. they are not disabled, functionally or within fiction. they are either perfectly able bodied Normal people with chrome paint on an arm, or tortured misery porn we are supposed to pity and feel lucky we're not them. sometimes both!

also you ever notice how it's basically always arms? lower limb amputations are orders of magnitude more common than upper, my prosthetist said i was probably only the 4th or 5th upper limb she'd worked with in her career, with literally hundreds of lower limb fits. but fiction doesn't seem to reflect that, huh? or any other part of the reality of disability. it's always cool as fuck robot arms, never cool as fuck wheelchairs or crutches or dialysis machines or colostomy bags. a fair few "i was blind but now i can see with Robot Eyes and also infrared and xray" around, which again, plays into that "we can fix you and make you cooler" propaganda.

by the way, up above when i was describing body powered arms, if you wondered to yourself why i went with a myoelectric one instead when i clearly believe body powered is better… yeah. i am not immune to propaganda! i too wanted to be cool as fuck. i spent years with deteriorating function in my hand for reasons that are still unknown, was misdiagnosed and medically neglected to the point that removing my hand seemed to be the only option left to offer some relief, and even that was a clusterfuck that left me worse than ever… of course i wanted to believe in the power and prestige of a cool robot arm that fiction promised me.

but fiction promises fantastical lies. and so.

we get to the writing advice portion of the novella that is this post. you asked for advice on how to write a disabled character with an upper limb prosthesis. you've read the tl;dr, you've read everything above i assume, you know i don't want you to do it. the obvious twist is that it's been writing advice all along, me trying to share my perspective on what it's like being an amp with a robot arm and how shitty it is, implying how almost any fully realised and realistic character that's missing an upper limb would give up on a prosthesis at all. you can already tell that every value judgement in me says "don't give her a prosthesis, no matter how functional or cool you make it. don't try to make the tech better to justify it, just let her be one armed, one handed. just let her be disabled, but not helpless. let her show off her elbow or underarm carry strength. let her love interest appreciate how soft and squishy her residual limb is in a moment of tenderness. let her natural disabled body be respected and valued."

but that's a personal value judgement from me, and you are the author of your own work. i know it's trite to say, but you are! even the act of deferring to someone with lived experience in the hope of doing a better job at representation is a value judgement, a good choice in my opinion, but one you needn't necessarily take. maybe you do want to write a character that has a cool as fuck unrealistic robot arm as a power fantasy, or a comfort blanket… i did.

i've been slowly writing my own probably terrible scifi epic for over a decade now, and when my arm was giving me hell back then, i'd take great comfort in this fantasy of my protagonist with her chunky robot arm, the terrible traumatic suffering of her loss, overcoming, the power and ability her advanced prosthesis gives her over others, that she alone has access to, because others are not willing to make the sacrifices required. inspiration porn. awful stuff to me now, but empowering to me then. as i grew and gained direct experience, i slowly reimagined her, rewrote her, ship of theseus'd her into an entirely new character; a reflection of me now, bitter at the whole thing, spiteful that her natural flesh arm evokes fear and distrust, but unwilling to suffer the pain and frustration of her unnatural prosthesis just to make others comfortable and respect her as "whole", however artificial that whole is. and as with the ship of theseus being two ships, once i realised the transformation, i re-added the old protagonist back in whole cloth as a separate character; proud of her robot arm and its power, but in new context, as a foil and antagonist, an in-universe military prosthesis propaganda figure to reflect how i now feel characters like her exist to us, the readers.

i'm not just sharing that as egotistical self promotion, but to highlight that, even if i sit here begging you all up and down not to write characters with robot arms for how bad and unrealistic they are; there's still something genuine and true that their inclusion can say. the great thing about the story that you're writing is that only you can write it, as they say. but i whole heartedly believe that to write to your best, you have to be aware of what you're writing and why. as tempting as it is to feel these characters form naturally in us and therefore we're averse to changing traits about them that feel organic and self evident; as authors we have omnipotent control over the text, every trait and detail is a reflection on us, so we'd sure as hell better understand why we're choosing to write a character with this trait. because anything you write without being aware of intent will take on its own meaning in the space between.

and on that note, if i don't say this, i'm leaving it to be inferred: i definitely don't want to appear to come down on the side of saying "you cannot write an amputee unless you are one", because we are rarer than single young bisexual unicorns! and it would be a tragedy if anyone read through all this and then turned away in fear, deciding to never write an amputee character (with or without robot arm) because they feel they can't do it justice… believe me, no matter what anyone says, some hack writer somewhere is going to keep writing adam jensens and winter soldiers. don't let them be the only voices in fiction! just try to do your best.

so my ultimate advice on the topic of writing a character with a prosthetic limb is to ask yourself one question in two different frameworks, and meditate on what you feel the answer is:

why does she have a prosthesis?

from a doylelist perspective as the kids say, as an author with omnipotent control, why are you choosing to write about this topic? why are you choosing to give this trait to this character? what does it say about how you view ability and disability, what makes a person normal, and what our society values? will you let her be in her natural body? or will you give her a prosthesis, force her to wear it by authorial fiat, or author her a meaningful reason to choose to? if yes, be sure you know; why did you give her a prosthesis?

and from a wastonian perspective, diegetically, inside the story, why does she choose to wear a prosthesis? what does it say about her inner character, and how she interacts with the world? how does she feel about doing it, is she prideful and loves the attention she gets, or does she resent whatever necessitates its use? how do people in this world view ability and disability, what does this society value? and above all, whatever the answer to these questions, whether or not she uses a prosthesis or is badass without one, how does she deal with the eternal freezing cold that every amputee ever feels constantly in their residual limb and why does nobody make a heat pack that fits over a nub without drafty gaps???

i can't outright tell you how to write a good upper limb amputee, but if you at least know why you're writing one and for what purpose, you're on track to write the best character that you can. that's the best advice i can give… other than, like, this whole rambly mess.

and, as a reward for reading this far, please have a very blurry cryptid photo of my cat doing his old man sit:

#prosthesis #prosthetic #disability #ableism

[controld3vil]

sand walking?

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic!!)

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: how to seduce someone walking on sand.

notes: there hasn't been confirmed for dune 3 yet but denise villeneuve has said he's writing for it to happen. ill patiently wait for the day it's confirmed :) ALSO there are fictional/made-up mentions of the novel for the sake of the reader. they're made to be gender-neutral!! and this includes platonic flirting between cast members. i MAY have gotten carried lmaoo

“I mean- what do you think of the character? Do you think they deserved more screen time?” The clip starts off with you comfortably conversing with the interviewer. To say you weren’t deflecting their curiosity. In actuality, you were eager to learn what others thought about your performance and take on the character. The only other interpretation had on-screen was from the classic 1984 film by David Lynch.

The clip that has been widely retweeted back is of a cute moment you had from the first film of Dune (2021). Before release, little was known about your character’s potential. Apart from the enthusiastic book lovers, film viewers were clueless about what role your character would play after the first movie.

Denise Villeneuve didn’t reveal much to you in person. He wanted to keep ideas confidential until he was 100% on board making the project come to life. Still, rumors sparked through speculation and interviews with the cast members of Dune. Including an infamous short, that you forgot about, of yourself boasting about your hopes and wishes for your character.

“Yes! How could we not!” On the opposite side, the interviewer exclaimed as they leaned forward from their chair, closing into your proximity. Their hands clenched, tightening their grip on the flash card, full of questions. “The movie left us on such a cliffhanger. I think everyone would want to know what happened to Nerre,”

“That’s for Denise to decide,” Nodding you gave a relaxed smile while lifting one leg over the other. Your shoulders relaxed, feeling content and ecstatic about their response. “I can’t confirm anything until he gives me the green light to say anything,”

“I’ve also talked to Timothée this morning,” A shift in gears as the journalist flipped over another flashcard. You two had just fussed about the finale and its dramatic cliffhanger. “And all he had to say were the sweetest things about you,” At the mention of your costar compliments, you felt your skin heat up. Your eyes soften, expressing only fondness for the lovely message. A soft awh escaped your breath. “He’s very sweet. Timothee's always been fun to be around.” A fervent chuckle from the interviewer sends them into a feverish excitement. “And- he said- you had great flirting skills!” It was then your face morphed into complete shock and giddiness . “Really?!” The camera pans up on your initial reaction, eyes popping out in surprise and a bubbling laugh slowly erupting. “I’m glad someone appreciates my talents!”

Without context, the short clip seemed harmless. Your sheer reaction to Timothee's comment emphasized the fun chemistry the two of you had on set. Mirroring much of Paul and Nerre's friendship, you both complimented each other well in the first film, being the youngest surrounded by well-renowned actors. But the reason for the recent spike of interest was partially from Dune: Part Two and their interviews.

Fast forward to the debut of Dune: Part Two, it made success at the box office. Even surpassing the first film altogether. The entire cast of Dune was proud of the work they've made. The introduction of new characters played by wonderful actors and actresses all around.

Weeks after the early IMAX screenings, press interviews were being published amongst of the young cast members. A particular interview by IGV Presents brings together Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, Florence Pugh, Austin Butler, and yourself.

This would be considered to be one of your first interviews with the Dune cast after the box office release. You felt nervous yet overjoyed at the same time to be meeting your co-actors again after the conclusion of filming had taken place.

The spokesperson of IGV, Simon Harkness starts off the interview strong with a pleasant greeting. "Congratulations on an incredible movie. Uhm it is the definition of a sci-fi blockbuster and is absolutely phenomenal, so huge congratulations to you all!"

"Thank you!" The five of you all politely cherish his kind words.

"It's so lovely to talk to you. Um- Timothee, Zendaya, I'm going to start with you. This is probably the hardest question I've ever asked in an interview so you've been warned." An endearing giggle can be seen from Zendaya before allowing him to continue. "Sand walking, who does it better?"

Timothee immediately lifts up his microphone. "I'm going to give it to Zendaya here." Without glancing at her, you could tell Zendaya was happily smiling at his compliments. How quick he was to answer made it seem how well connected the cast was even given the amount of time spent together. The main lead continues very swiftly, diving more into how cinematic the shot was from an outside perspective, "I think it's the most- one of the most cinematic shots in the movie and she really has it very precisely down but it's the nature of the movie too that she's supposed to be better than Paul,"

"Is that what it is?" In return, Zendaya who sat next to him gave him a teasing look.

Quietly from afar where you sat, next to Austin Butler, you whispered. "He acted like he couldn't do it but," Soft snickering can be heard across the room.

"In fairness to me, I was going 65%- 65 to 70 too hard," Chalamet reasons justly as he glances in your direction before looking back to the interviewer.

"You dumbed it down," Harkness nods in a high-spirited manner. Right after, Timothee reluctantly agrees, keeping the mood light-hearted.

"I had to!"

"Just how committed you are!" Austin steps in, joining in on the joke.

"Zendaya, you can take that crown. I love that," The brown-haired man reassures as she recuperates with appreciative laughter. In truth, it was a beautiful scene between Paul and Chani you were lucky enough to witness behind the camera. And contrary to their light banter, you thought both actors did well at accomplishing what it was meant sand walk. Truthfully you had no scenes beyond walking through the desert but understanding the mechanics and traditions of the Fremen was as fascinating as it was watching it up close.

Suddenly it was Florence's turn to speak, "Zendaya taught me the other day and I had to just stop to stare at her feet."

"The swoopy swoop?" You asked in a cutesy tone, with furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't help but remember the few instances you witnessed your costars practice the sand walk to be one of the more adorable rehearsals you've seen on the sand.

"Yeah, her feet were so pretty! She was doing the swoopy swoops," The blonde acknowledges, waving her hands in a zig-zag pattern. As the replication of water and how her feet moved.

The interviewer's eyes light up, "Honestly I tried to swoopy swoop at home- um because we have a carpet in the bedroom."

"How did it go?" The mixed actress puts forward.

"Awful!" An assembly of bewilderment is seen between Zendaya and Florence as they quickly question why. However, they reassure him in the end that they would practice together in hopes of him archiving the sand walk.

Talks with simple questions went down the row. Florence discusses her experience from her beginnings, starring in Little Women, comparing those scenes in terms of royalty to Dune. In both films, she's worked with well-known actors and now Christopher Walken as the emperor and her father. She raves about how it was a dream come true. A dream she had when she was little. From this experience, Florence emphasizes the concept of learning and observing her fellow actors.

Another intriguing topic follows Austin for his experience between learning choreography fighting and Elvis's iconic rubber legs. In a sense, as you leaned forward on one of your seats, you became fascinated by the Elvis actor's comparison of it all. While Elvis's moves were televised and had to be precise for the camera, being a Harkonnens gave him more leverage in the freedom to move. It was a captivating question that you couldn't help but want to listen to more.

Comparisons aside, you didn't have much to note for your upcoming question. Which is exactly why you felt unprepared for what he was going to ask.

Harkness brings up your name for the finale. "You have done stunt work before. For the first and now second film, I've heard you compared it to rather- dancing. Is that what you think your relationship with the choreography has been?"

You gave a content hum, "You see it with the Fremen or Harkonnens right? Everyone moves so differently and for the course for me, I've had to adjust my choreo little by little. And I think that analogy you mentioned really does relate back to dancing. I don't know if it's because I was once a dancer or that I'm a visual learner," You shrug your shoulders, "But I see the choreography as a dance routine. You're moving alongside people, doing hits and jabs. Both are very hands-on so I would like to approach it as something I can always work on." Satisfied with your answer, you clapped your hands together.

"Kind of like sand walking no?" It was then that Zendaya swerved counterclockwise to face you.

Bringing back the conversation they had in the beginning about sand walking, your eyes instantly brighten. "Exactly like that!"

"I feel like you would be great at sand walking," Florence puffs, mindlessly shaking her microphone back and forth. "You- You already got the moves." Even Timothee came into agreement, humming and commenting you worked well with the choreography.

Austin Butler raises his microphone. "I think you gotta learn with me because I don't think I could,"

"Nonsense!" You give him a silly glare. "If you can do a killer rubber leg, I think you can sand walk." Florence and Zendaya both mumble their support and your male costar leans to have his arm around the back of your chair, warmly.

"Is that an open invitation I see?" The spokesperson, Harkness giggly pokes at than the rest of the cast turns to look at you. Your scowl morphs into an innocent one.

"Hm?" As you squint your eyes in hesitation.

"I feel like you could have the potential to sand walk but just with the right partner," Timothee chimes in, spreading his arms over his chair as well. Your brows furrowed accusingly, as if wanting to clarify what he meant by his comment.

And the French actor gives you a look, one you became so sure of. "Mm right!" A slight eruption of laughs before you straightened your back with proper posture. "With just the right partner,"

There were also hints mentioned in your interview with Timothee surprisingly not. This was one of the more recent ones to be published, as you finally were able to pair up with your favorite co-star (besides Brolin) from the first film. The two of you had strong chemistry despite having less screen time together in the second film.

The beginning of the video cuts to a clip of you answering an innocent question. "What I think about every day, is Timothee going to send to me a meme today? Uh, I hope so!" You give a sarcastic look to your seat partner as he latently laughs in front of you. "Or when is he going to text me you know?"

It then transitions to an interviewer from Heart commercial radio as he shouts out your names. "How are you both?"

"I'm doing good!"

"Going great!"

The radio show was more relaxed than you would've expected as the spokesperson was very down to the earth with his conversation starters and contagious warmth. Timothee was able to catch up with him from his last interview when he premiered his Wonka film. Eventually, the interview became more casual discussing working together, cooking, and trendy topics.

Timothee and you both went back and forth on favorite memories you had of the first film. And talking about the new cast members and new elements it had brought to the table for the film itself.

"Cool new characters this time," As you played around with the fuzzy microphone the camera crew gave to you.

"Yup lots of new people to meet," Timothee adds on, nodding.

The interviewer proceeds with the question, "And also you have seen- there's a clip about of you running around actually." He signals to you, "Of your reaction to something Timothee said about your performance in the first film,"

"Oh! I've seen it," Almost instinctively, your co-star raises his hand. "I was supposed to send it to you but I forgot." As he turns, to finds you looking lost at the topic at hand.

"Really what was it?" You almost looked concerned, seeing how you didn't understand what they meant.

Luckily for you, the Heart radio spokesperson managed to get a hold of the video from his phone, "It was a little callback of Timothee raving about your flirting skills."

As it plays, the camera zooms in on you and your co-actors reaction. The French actor couldn't help but look slightly embarrassed but smitten when the timing of your reaction came on screen. While you held an intrigued stance, arms crossed and a content grin.

"I am pretty good at flirting,"

"You really are, huh." At the same time, you both turn to make eye contact.

"I also heard Tim- that you thought that they would be your love interest initially?" At the radio speaker's inquiry, you couldn't help but in mid-sentence, finally, swerve your head suddenly.

"Yeah well, fun fact actually," The male actor tries to reason, sitting up. "In the novels, Paul and Nerre almost did become a couple!"

It was a well-known fact of that in the first novel, there had been slight changes to the story. Initially, it was said that the author, Frank Herbert had planned for Paul and Nerre, the character you played to have a romantic connection after the fall of House Atreides. Nevertheless, it was later scrapped for another plot, that of instead having Chani as the love interest. But even decades later after the novel’s release, it was something fans still fuss about.

"Oh, I heard about that!" Almost in awe, you nodded, your attention fully on Chalamet, wondering how far he was willing to go beyond spoilers.

"Do you think Nerre would ever meet someone then?" The afro man questions, adjusting his microphone. "Since- Paul has Chani, I feel like if we ever get a potential third film, that could open some doors!"

"If a third film could happen," You start, fiddling with the lining of the mic cover, "I hope so! I mean I got the moves, I got the skills!"

"Keep practicing your sand walk and we'll see," Timothee cutely chimes as you proceed to blow a raspberry at him. Only for him to lightly swat you away.

Despite your failures to have scenes of sand walking, your cast of a crew were more than happy to show you. Javier Bardem and Jessica Ferguson were quite supportive in your interest for something you did not have any part-time. A few behind the scene videos show the actor demonstrating from afar the slower version of the walk.

Though your back was facing the camera, viewers would pick up and recognize it to be you. Jessica as well was off to the side, in her luminescent costume of a million robes, clapping from side to side.

Another later pans to you taking long strides across the sand in the background. In front of the camera are Josh Brolin and Javier having their turn in the video, to discuss their relationship and the previous they have worked on together. However, viewers couldn't help but pinpoint your figure alongside the frame trying to master the patterns of what Javier taught you from the previous clip.

#dune #dune part two #dune x you #dune x reader #dune imagine #dune cast #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #zendaya #zendaya x reader #chani #chani kynes #chani x reader #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #princess irulan #irulan x reader #austin butler #austin butler x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #stilgar #gurney halleck #lady jessica #WE MAKING IT OUT WITH THIS ONE #dune bts

[arminsumi]

Hi! I hope ur having a good time. Sorry, for the phrasing, English is not my first language hehe (｡>\\<) btw i really like ur writing! u keep them in character and also ur amazing at writing fluff ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ can I please ask for a gojo fluff where he realizes reader always wanted to have a small boyfriend to like call him baby boy to sit on her lap and spoil him and stuff and then gojo goes apeshit like trying to sit on her with his long ass limbs trying to be a babyboy idk hehehe anyways tysm

"I'm your baby boy, right?"

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Satoru thinks he's smaller than he actually is, and tries curl up on you like a cat.

Note : hey hey! srry i took so long to write this omggg it got lost in my drafts. but!! it's such a sweet idea thank u for sending it in!! big beefy satoru trying to make himself ur small boy is a thought that gave me life 💗😖 and thank u so much for ur kind words it means a lot!!

Satoru tries to curl up on you as if he's a little cat.

But he's not.

Ah, but he really thinks he is sometimes.

And he wants to be a little cat to you, not a big burly man or a strong intimidating menace but just a small, soft, delicate thing to be held and touched and pampered with love and care.

It makes you laugh, as you listen to him grunting and struggling to position himself on your lap and get those long limbs in order — it's one of the funniest sights; a big boy trying to box himself up like he's not 6'3 with broad-shoulders 'n thick arms 'n long spider-like legs.

"Do you think you're a cat or something?"

"Yes." he grins dumbly, balancing precariously on you as you sit. Then he sees your smile and slips off. "—oopsfuck!" he falls, gets up, acts it off, then tries again.

In bed, he wiggles down the sheets so his head is level with your chest. He wraps his arms around your middle, arches his back, and encases you between his legs. He clings to your body on his side like that, and snuggles his cheek on your chest as if it's his rightful pillow, the place where he belongs.

"Play with my hair, please?" he mumbles with pouty lips.

He smiles to himself when you fulfil his request.

Feeling both your warmth and your fingers stroking lovingly through his hair makes him drowsy. And when he's drowsy, he mumbles mental notes like "we need to buy orange juice tomorrow..." as he falls asleep.

His grip slackens as he falls asleep. In the middle of the night, he'll wake up and look at you with that puffy pouty sleepy face of his and stare for a moment, appreciating you, before tightening his embrace on your body and returning to slumber.

When he wakes up the next morning with you, he makes the same request; "Play with my hair." but with a raspy voice.

While you do so, he groaningly complains about having had nightmares all night.

"I keep dreamin' about saving the world 'n failing... but it's fine. I wake up and you're right here. So nothin' to worry about. Doesn't matter if I fail if I still have you."

He's so happy to be getting spoiled and pampered by you while curling his body up as small as possible. Happy that he has someone he doesn't have to be big and strong around. Someone who he can be a baby boy around.

Sometimes he's resting on your chest in the mornings in silence, when suddenly he rears his head up and asks "I'm your baby boy, right? Say it, please."

"Mhm. You're my baby boy, Satoru. Don't worry."

"Mm yay." he smiles to himself and resumes resting on you, his white hair tickling under your chin. "Say it again, please. Just keep saying it."

So you do, you say it repeatedly and it sounds like a soft lullaby to him. He falls back asleep with his ear pressed to your heartbeat, and feels a safe warmness in his chest.

"Oh." he startles out of his shallow sleep, "We need to buy orange juice, don't we?"

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo x reader #x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo saturo #gojo x you #satoru #satoru x reader #satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader

[moonstruckme]

Omg Mae more Spence please!! I love him ❤️❤️ what about the team is out at the bar after a case and some guy is flirting with reader and not taking no for an answer and spencer steps in even tho it’s out of character for him bc he’s so so jealous

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: minor assault, fictional confirmation that most guys are douchebags

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 926 words

“Right,” JJ says, “so Henry had actually been trying to say ‘fork,’ but of course everyone heard ‘fuck.’” 

You double over, laughter bubbling to the surface even easier than usual with the help of the couple of drinks you’ve had. Garcia has far surpassed you, tears leaking from her eyes as Morgan all but holds her upright. 

“And Will’s mom was…” JJ shakes her head with a smile, taking a sip of her drink. “Well, she was pretty upset. She accused Will of using that language around Henry, because she said he’s always had a potty mouth.” 

“Will?” Garcia cackles. “Our sweet southern beaux? There’s no way.” 

“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “I can see it. But he wouldn’t do it around Henry, for sure.” 

“Actually,” Spencer pipes up, “studies show that many children pick up swear words regardless of their parents’ usage. Even if they don’t know what they mean, most have a vocabulary of thirty to forty offensive words by the time they start school.”

The humor drains from JJ’s face. “Like, kindergarten?”

“Sometimes earlier,” Spencer says, before seeming to realize JJ finds these facts more alarming than fascinating. “I’m sure Henry will have a higher vocabulary than that by the time he gets to that age, though.” he adds hastily. “Probably won’t even need to resort to swear words.” You grin at him, laying your head on his shoulder consolingly. You might not have done it if you were completely sober, but right now it feels like the most natural thing in the world, and Spencer only tenses for a second before relaxing.

It’s Garcia who notices first, stiffening and straightening in her seat, but Hotch is the one to ask, “Can we help you?”

“I think so,” drawls a voice from behind you. “You can give me your friend’s number.”

You turn, finding yourself too close to the man standing with his hand presumptuously on the back of your chair and grinning like your agreement is a done deal. 

“Thanks,” you say, not unkindly, “but I’m not looking for anything.” 

The man tilts his head as if to say come on. “But don’t you just love when you find it anyways?”

“I’m here with my friends.” 

“And I’m not asking you to leave them.” He moves his hand to your shoulder, undeterred when you lean away. “Just give me your number, and next time you can be here with me.” 

“She said she’s not interested.” Emily’s voice is hard. If this guy weren’t so unpleasant, you’d be impressed that he’s still here, with your whole team staring daggers at him. 

The douchebag only smiles. “She didn’t say that, though. Did you, sweetheart?”

Your blood runs hot at his disregard of Emily. A man like this, you know—the assertive, overly masculine type—can be dangerous to piss off. But so can you. “I’m not," you say, finally letting the disgust you’ve been holding back seep into your voice. “Leave us alone.” 

Anger sparks in the man’s eyes, just like you knew it would. You don’t expect your gaze looks much different. His grip on your shoulder tightens as he gets in your face, close enough for you to smell the alcohol on his breath. “I know you don’t mean that.” 

You tense, ready to shake him off you and drag him back to whatever musty corner of the bar he’d come from, but Spencer beats you to it. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” he says, prying the fingers from your shoulder. You stand, a protective instinct moving you in front of Spencer, but he pushes past you, badge outheld. “FBI. Do you really wanna pursue this? Because if so, I’ll have no problem cuffing you and explaining it to the local police.” 

The guy makes like he’s going to dart for you again, but Spencer steps in his way, pushing him back with a hand on his shoulder. His voice is quiet but clear. “Do not touch her.”

“Fuck off,” the guy shakes Spencer’s hand off, stalking away. He’s drunker than you thought, wobbling his way back to the bar. 

“Spence,” you say, taking his hand as though mere contact with the man’s shoulder could hurt it. “You didn’t have to do that, I could have handled it.” 

“You shouldn’t have to,” he replies, pulling back the collar of your shirt distractedly. His fingers skim over tender skin, and you look down to find your shoulder is red where the man had gripped it. It’ll probably be a bruise tomorrow. Spencer’s eyes darken. “I can still arrest him. That’s assault.”

“It’s fine.” You move your shirt back into place, pulling him back to your seats. “I’m fine, really. Sorry about the scene, guys.” 

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Hotch says severely, still eyeing the man from across the room. 

Morgan lets out a low whistle, relaxing back into his seat. “Way to go, wonder boy. Got a little jealous there, did we?”

Spencer lets out a little laugh, though it sounds more strained than usual. “I just did what all of us wanted to do.” 

“Agreed,” Emily says gruffly, toasting with her beer. “I thought I was going to have to go all the way around the table to kick that guy’s ass.” 

You laugh. “I appreciate the support, but I can take care of myself, you know.” You adjust your collar self-consciously, and as soon as you drop your hand back to your lap, Spencer’s taking it in his under the table. 

“Yeah,” he says casually, thumb stroking soothingly at your wrist. “We know.”

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒏

hello, I want to thank @foxyprincessworld for inspiring me to write this.

connected to fairytale

summary - it has been a while since meeting ari in the woods, and while he goes out to gather food for you two, you manage to get yourself stuck.

warning - smut, inter-species, tiny fairy, stuck, slight fingering, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Ari had gone out to gather some berries and vegetables from your little garden outside the cabin, ensuring you’d be stocked up for the rapidly approaching winter. While he was out picking, you were fluttering around the house, ensuring things were clean and neat. Since you met Ari that fateful night, becoming his partner, the cabin also became your home. 

You had been cleaning all day in your human form, making sure you could cut the cleaning time in half with your size before finding a spot that no large thing could reach. You wave your hand, allowing your magic to dance over you and shrink you into your fairy form. You fly over to the area, noticing through the small hole that it has become dirty. You knew Ari didn’t care about these things, but you did. So, you began to clean, softly groaning as you kept missing a few spots, pulling yourself further into the tiny hole, your hips catching onto the sides. You wiggle, huffing when you realise that you are stuck. “Oh no… I do hope Ari gets back soon.” You let out a cute little sneeze as the dust tickles your nose. 

Ari grins at the basket in his hands, loving that it’s filled to the brim and that he can show you what he’s managed to gather. He heads into the cabin, setting down the basket on the table and then looks around confused, wondering where you are as you usually came to greet him. “Fairy? Bear here!” He grunts, scrunching his nose. “Little Fairy?!” Ari begins to walk deeper into the house, becoming worried that something may have happened to you.

“I’m here, Bear. I’m okay. I’m just stuck...” You sigh and allow magic to flow through you, appearing before your man.

Ari stares at the bright ball, following it as it slowly leads him to where you are stuck. The ball disappears when Ari stops where you are, and his eyes widen. “Oh, Fairy! How?” He can’t deny that his cock twitches when his eyes land on your exposed arse, your dress lifted from wiggling. “Stuck?” You still weren’t able to teach him how to speak proper sentences, but you found it endearing with his short answers. Knowing he tries so hard, his face always scrunches up, trying to find the right things to say, and the thing you love most about him is even though it becomes hard for him sometimes, he never gives up. 

“Yeah, Bear. I’m stuck, and my magic cannot get me out of this one.” You pout, not noticing that the more you wiggle, the more that becomes exposed, causing the giant bear behind you to become aroused. “Could you please help me?” 

Ari nods, too preoccupied with how your arse jiggles and your sweet honey pot glistens. He licks his lips at the thought of honey and how delicious you taste. “Help after,” Ari growls out, quickly ridding himself free from his pants and gripping his thick, monstrous cock. He begins to stroke it, grunting as pre-cum leaks from his angry tip.

“What? Ari, what do you mean after? Bear?” He ignores you, too lost in his mind now. You softly squeak as his finger connects with your dripping cunt. You now understand what is happening and allow your magic to wash over you. “You can enter, Bear.” You whimper when he pushes his thick finger inside, stretching you and curling it, ensuring you are wet enough to take him.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Your head falls forward as he pulls his finger out and replaces it with his member. His tip stretches you wide as Ari pushes in. “Oh, god…” He rests his hands against the wood, fucking into you harder and faster, enjoying how your tight walls squeeze him. 

“Not god.” Ari growls, fucking into you harder. “I Bear!” Your tiny body rocks back and forth, and your eyes roll back as the pleasure intensifies. Your walls pulsate like crazy around Ari, causing a groan to slip out. “My Fairy!” Your arousal builds, leaking alongside his thick base, coating him and creating a white creamy ring. “So pretty and tiny.” He hums, staring down at your stretched-out cunt with a dazed look, entranced by how hot it looks. 

Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm. “B–bear! I’m going to–” You cut yourself off with a strangled moan. Your vision becomes white as your walls squeeze around him, and your juices squirt out of you. You fall limp, exhaustion hitting you. Ari continues to thrust into you, throwing his head back as his balls tighten, cock twitching. He releases thick amounts of cum into you, coating your walls. 

Once Ari empties himself, his cock softens, and he slowly pulls out of you. “Bear, help now.” He grumbles, wiping off the sweat on his forehead before punching the wood, snapping it enough to rip it away and pull you out of the tiny hole. He lies you on the palm of his hand, looking down at you with a soft look, “Fairy, okay?” 

You snuggle into his palm, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. “I’m okay, Bear. Thank you.” You give him a soft tap and sigh as he moves you to the chair. Your hand waves, and you feel your body slowly grow, allowing you to become human-sized. You stretch, kissing Ari’s palm as he rests it on your cheek. “How did your picking go, Bear?” 

The smile on his face makes you think he’d be able to brighten up a room with how bright and gorgeous it is. Ari quickly moves over to the basket and brings it back to you, showing you the many things he picked. You smile, eyes dancing around the many different colours. “You did wonderful, Bear! I could maybe make some soup for dinner and a pie for dessert.” You slowly stand, legs feeling like jelly. 

Ari places the basket back down and pulls you into him by the hips. He looks down at you with such love and adoration, like he cannot believe he has you in his life. “Bear love Fairy… S–so much.” He wraps an arm around your waist while his hand cups your cheek, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “Pretty Fairy.”

You smile, eyes becoming clouded with love. “I love you too, Bear, so much. My big handsome bear.” Your hand rests flat on his chest, and the other cups his cheek, stroking the soft beard underneath before moving up to scratch between his cute bear ears. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve been working so hard lately.” Your lashes flutter as you continue to stare up at him. “I’ll prepare dinner, okay?” 

Ari shakes his head, huffing. He peppers kisses against your face, smiling at how beautiful you look. “I help.” 

That night you and Ari make dinner, and as that is cooking, he helps you prepare dessert. You couldn’t have wished for anything better. He’d wrap you in his arms as you made the food before pulling you over to the couch, holding you against him while you both waited for dinner. Your hand rested against your stomach, knowing that when you finally told the news to Ari, he would be so happy. You’d finally have everything you had ever wished for. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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