#or out of just trying not to be difficult or annoying

[celepeace]

Also in the spirit of "sex is something you're supposed to want and enjoy, not something to endure"- if your partner acts like pleasing you is a chore, or makes you feel like you're being unreasonable for wanting them to consider your feelings and pleasure during the act rather than only theirs, or continues to do things that hurts you/makes you uncomfortable in some way even after you talk to them about it...

You deserve better. Sex is supposed to be a collaborative activity; even if you specifically enjoy one-sided acts, there needs to be communication and explicit consent, free from coercion, about that beforehand. You deserve to have your feelings considered and cared for. Sex is supposed to be fun. To reiterate op, sex is not supposed to be something you tolerate.

As someone who was in a highly abusive relationship for nearly a decade, please, for your own sake, don't sacrifice your wants and needs for another. Happiness and satisfaction is out there and you deserve to find it, whatever form that takes for you.

sex is not supposed to be about what you can tolerate!!!!! sex is supposed to be about what you genuinely want and enjoy!!!!! and if you’re traumatized and/or not straight, believe me, I know it’s not that simple to figure out what it is that you actually want and enjoy.

you’re not a bad person if you do something that you don’t particularly enjoy because, for example, it makes your partner happy, but always remember: you have no obligation to engage in sexual activities that you don’t fully like and enjoy. 

and you don’t ever, ever need to justify that - if your partner has an issue with “It makes me kind of uncomfortable” or “I don’t really like it”, then that person does not deserve a moment of your time, in or outside of the bedroom. you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone; you don’t have to meet anyone’s standards of acceptable vs. unacceptable activity (or lack thereof); you don’t have to force yourself to be comfortable with something because of any perceived political connotations of performing or refusing that act.

saying yes because you feel guilty about saying no is not consent. saying yes because you’re scared of what will happen if you say no is not consent. saying yes because you figure you might as well just endure it is not consent. sex ed on here and elsewhere doesn’t give a single shit about traumatized people and I wish someone had told me all of this a lot sooner. 

[kdh-tally]

Huntr/x and The Saja Boys being Jealous

Prompt : How Huntr/x and the Saja Boys would react to their partner being flirted with. @erisanix

Author’s Note : I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this 😭 Hope you enjoy!!! So it was only after writing this (and preparing to publish this) that I realised you probably meant partner as in the reader... I'm so sorry- and will rewrite this if you want

Abby when someone flirts with Mira

The two of them are working out.

Neither of them need it but Abby insists that they work to keep their muscles in shape (insert unnecessary flexing here)

Some dude decides to work out next to them and when abby leaves to grab them water, the person takes their chance to talk with Mira. 

His first reaction is to laugh. 

Like, genuinely finds it funny.

How did anyone have the audacity to flirt with Mira???

“You’re trying to flirt with her?”

“Oh… you’re serious.”

He’d walk over, arm casually slipping over her shoulder as she glares at the person trying to make a move on her

He wouldn’t say a thing first and would just stand there smiling.

Normally, most people would use their brains and back off once they see that:

1. Mira isn’t interested

2. This huge guy with muscles in standing by her like a body guard and could very much easily beat them up

However, lets say the person keeps going

While Abby knows fully well that Mira can handle herself, he likes playing knight-in shining armour.

“She’s taken” he’d smirk condescendingly at the person (who is now shaking in their boots) 

He doesn’t get jealous so much, but will get competitive.

It also gives him an extra EXTRA confidence boost knowing that he (and romance ig 😒) is actually Mira’s boyfriend.

“You think she’d want you? Try again in your next life.”

(He wouldn’t say this in front of Mira of course cause she would obliterate him)

Once they’re gone, he’s gentle and playful again.

“I feel bad for them”

“Why?”

“Don’t you remember how long it took me and romance to convince you to go out with us?”

“Yea-”

“And you liked us” he pointed out in disbelief “That poor person bro. They stood no chance” he’d shake his head dramatically watching the flirter walk away defeatedly.

Romance when someone flirts with Mira

They were both in the practice room. Mira testing out new lyrics with him and Romance just watching her.

A new staff member, who wasn’t briefed on any of the relationships between the groups, attempts to make a move on Mira.

Romance is smiling the whole time.

He doesn’t take the person seriously.

“Oh, you like her? Cuteeeeee. Same.”

Would hug Mira from behind mid-conversation (knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to attack him for the PDA in front of the innocent (and flirty) bystander), his chin resting on her shoulder as he more or less stares at her in awe.

“Isn’t she just perfect?” he’d say, looking smugly into the flirter’s eyes.

He, like Abby, is so confident in his position as Mira’s boyfriend that he has no need to be jealous.

And to be honest even if he did feel jealous, he used to be a powerful demon. Hiding a dead body wouldn’t be that difficult for him.

He wouldn’t mind outflirting the flirter to their face.

He would also let Mira do most of the rejecting.

He lowkey finds it attractive when she goes all “Sorry but I’m already in a relationship”

His head is filled with hearts and flowers and all he can think of is  ‘she loooooooves me~~’

But, If Mira gets visibly annoyed or uncomfy (and that would take a lot to happen), his smile turns sharp.

“You can leave now,” he’d say, eyes narrowed as he more or less forces the person away with his sharp gaze.

His tone is so obviously threatening.

Later, he’d make Mira and Abby laugh about it.

“You know I’m prettier than them, right?” he’d tell the two while laying across their legs on the couch.

Mira would roll her eyes but she wouldn’t disagree.

Abby would give romance a proud high five (or whatever it is bro’s do…)

Definitely throws in some extra flirty lines that night, just to remind her of the whole encounter.

Mystery when someone flirts with Zoey

The only Saja boy that would get seriously jealous.

This could go two ways though. 

He could either get super protective over Zoey to the point where it’s lowkey animalistic…

I’m basically saying he might start barking at whoever is flirting with her 😭

Based off of his behaviour in the movie i’d feel like he’d try to freak the person out so they’d leave 💀

The more likely option would be for him to just freeze.

Doesn’t speak. Just stares.

You can feel how uncomfortable he is with the entire situation.

Lets say the two are hanging out after practice hours and they encounter a group of fans, one of them thinking they actually have a chance with Zoey.

I feel like Zoey would be completely oblivious to the fans' intentions cause she just wants to believe in the good of everyone. 

Remember how she said the Saja boys were magicians even though it was really obvious they were demons 💀

Mystery, after attending to his own fans, just stands behind Zoey and watches,

He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him but it obviously does.

He can’t stand still.

Crosses his arms. 

Shifts weight between his legs. 

Backs up a step only to come back up.

He won’t interrupt the conversation. Honestly he might just leave.

But Zoey usually finds him sulking in a corner later.

“You okay?”

“Why must you be so nice to people?” he be all frowny while flopping around on the floor”

“Thank you? she let out a small laugh before sitting by him and moving the hair out of his face.

“I don’t want you to be nice to everyone…” he’d be all flustered but still very upset. “Just me.” a small pause, “and huntr/x and the saja boys i guess…”

She ends up comforting him because his jealousy would manifest as confusion and anxiety.

Poor boy fears she’d still leave him because he used to be a demon.

Starts to lowkey improve his posture and fix his hair next time they're out. 

He thinks no one notices but zoey does.

Jinu when someone flirts with Rumi

The pouty jealous one.

Not in a sad and anxious way like Mystery, but more in a ‘stop giving them attention Rumi~’ way.

Doesn’t react at first. He’s quiet, watching and assessing how serious the situation is. 

If Rumi laughs at something the flirter says?

His jaw drops in disbelief. Like her audacity??

“Wow. Guess I’m just a background character now.” • Said this to no one but himself. He said it outloud.

Will walk up after the conversation ends like:

“So… did you have fun Rumi?”

“Who was that?”

“Do you like them more than me? Be honest. I can take it.” (He cannot.)

Rumi: “You’re literally the only person I want Jinu.”

Jinu, perking up instantly: “Okay :)”

Still clings to her for the rest of the day, just in case.

He could get super protective though.

They’d probably be out on one of their dates that apparently aren’t dates…

They’d stop for food at a restaurant and the guy taking the order is just so annoying and persistent about getting Rumi’s number.

At this his eyes sharpen, jaw clenches slightly. You’d only notice if you knew him.

He does not interrupt. He’d look to see how Rumi handles it.

If she looks uncomfortable?

He steps in immediately with that low, casual tone he has “You okay Rumi?”

He’s not even trying to be threatening. He’s kinda just making in known that he is the boyfriend.

Even Rumi is flustered with just how protective he’s being.

When they’re walking back to the company, his hand hasn’t left her waist at all.

“Some people just don’t seem to know when to stop talking” he’d mumbled under his breath.

Mira when someone flirts with Abby or Romance

If they flirt with Abby:

Someone’s trying to compliment his abs and muscles.

The person is being all sweet n touchy like

“Omg! You must work out really hard~~”

And he can see Mira seething in the background so he tries to make the interaction seem as friendly as possible. 

She's watching it all happen with the flattest expression known to mankind.

Abby's being polite. He’s all smiles like “ooh thankyou :D” 

Mira’s patience is running out FAST.

She's standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows twitching.

In her brain she’s absolutely berating the person. 

“Can’t they tell that he’s taken??’

However she’d also be in denial about her jealousy. 

“Like what do you mean jealousy? I was just worried that the person was wasting their time on you muscles brain” is what she would say if ever confronted about the situation.

She’d eventually calm down until Abby chuckles at one of their jokes.

Her head slowly turns and her eyes are comically wide.

She lowkey looks deranged…

“You think they’re funny?” • “No– I was just–” • “Mm.” 

She’d kick him out of her car and leave him stranded on the street.

Eventually walks up casually, a hand on Abby’s bicep.

“Sorry, this one’s taken. But nice try.” Smile = threat.

Later in private?

She’s berating him.

“You’re such an attention seeker”

“I didn’t do anything..” he’s flabergasted

If they flirt with Romance:

Mira doesn’t even pretend to be calm.

The issue here is Romance is the type to flirt back. Not cause he’s a man whore or anything but he just loves when Mira acts all possessive about him 💀

She’s standing behind Romance while the flirter is mid-sentence, her arms crossed, lips pursed.

She’s giving them the look she normally uses to scare off demons before killing them off.

Romance obviously finds it hilarious and adorable.

Mira does not.

She doesn’t speak, just raises one brow at the poor soul.

This person must be blind or something cause they just keep talking???

Oh yea- Where did they meet the flirter?

The two went shopping for books. Yes. Books.

Romance thinks the best way to learn about human culture would be by reading as many novels as he can get his hands on. 

This leads to the shop owner flirting with him as they try to recommend good books to read.

The flirter slides him a very steamy looking book and winks at him “This looks like something you’d enjoy if you know what I mean”

When the person keeps talking, Romance is smirking. • “You’re gonna die~” he whispers, all happy.

Mira steps up between them. • “If you value your ability to walk and want to keep your store, I suggest you shut up.”

Romance: 🥰

He won’t shut up about it later.

“I’ve never felt more loved.”

“You threatened violence for me.”

“Tell me again how you’d break their legs.”

He’s just a girl.

Actually he’d probably love saying “I’m just a girl” 💀

Zoey when someone flirts with Mystery

She’s oblivious at first.

Like I said up above, she’ll probably think the person is just being friendly.

“Oh my god, Mystery, they said you have pretty hair! Isn’t that sweet?” • Mystery is trying not to freak out

Eventually, she catches on.

She’ll see the flirter get all up in his space. They’d try to touch his hair, or interlink their arms, literally anything to have physical contact.

Mystery is physically recoiling.

“Wait a damn minute…”

Her whole vibe changes.

Remember how she “ended” mystery in the movie?

“You’re just my type 🤩 Oh well” stabs

Yea that switch up is how she’d treat the flirter.

Her voice is still sweet, but it’s weaponized sweetness.

“That’s my boyfriend.”

One sentence. That’s it.

The air gets colder. The fan who was flirting? Gone.

She then turns to Mystery like nothing happened.

“You okay?”

“You scared them away.”

“Good.” sips her drink

She becomes extra clingy later too. Not because she’s insecure.

She’d do it to reassure him that she wouldn’t be going anywhere regardless of how many people try to flirt with him.

Random compliments and forehead kisses.

“Your hair is pretty by the way.” she’d say this while tying it up into a bun to admire his face. “I’m the only one allowed to touch it though”

“Of course Zoey,” his voice is practically a whisper as she clings onto him.

Rumi with someone flirts with Jinu

They went to the movies together. A new lego movie came out and the last one Jinu saw was years ago so he begged Rumi to take him to see the new one.

She goes to collect popcorn, leaving Jinu to take his seat, and when she returns, someone is in HER chair. Flirting with HER boyfriend.

She’d try really hard not to react.

She wants to be chill. Really, she does.

But the moment someone says “Hey, what’s your name?” and reaches out to his arm?

She’s considering summoning her weapon and wiping their head off clean.

My girl is staring daggers.

Probably the most over protective in the group (could rival Mira)

After all, the guy died for her. Why would anyone even think they could try to flirt with him???

Stares daggers.

Jinu is too polite (and oblivious. The guy used to be a 400 year old demon. Anything he used to know about flirting is now irrelevant)

He smiles. Maybe even giggles just because of how nervous he is. • That is what breaks her.

She walks over calmly, “Sorry. That seat’s taken.”

If the flirter protests? “By who?

“By me. Go find another one.” Rumi’s losing her patience and the movie is about to start.

“I actually like it here,” they’d lean a tad bit closer to Jinu to spite Rumi.

Let’s not forget that Rumi is half demon though!! “That wasn’t a suggestion.” Her voice gets a bit more dangerous and unstable.

Once they’re alone again, she teases him about it.

“Did you like the attention?”

“Nooo– Rumi, no, I was scared. ☹️”

“You were giggling.”

“IT WAS A PANIC GIGGLE!!”

The next time they go out, she’s in his hoodie. Hair down (out of the braid 😋). Holding his hand. The message is clear: • Don’t even look in his direction.

[terraswallows]

Not All of Us Are Loud.

I wish people understood that not being able to read social cues doesn’t always mean being disruptive or awkward.

Sometimes it means becoming the quietest, most obedient version of yourself—because you’re terrified of getting it wrong.

You don’t know where the lines are, so you become the perfect little version of yourself.

Polite. Soft-spoken. Always agreeable.

Never making waves, never taking up too much space.

You think if you’re sweet enough, small enough, good enough, people will love you—even if they never really see you.

You don’t know if someone’s annoyed with you, so you apologize before you speak.

You give too much, laugh too quietly, pretend not to notice when someone talks over you—just so you don’t risk making things weird.

You don’t know what’s expected, so you throw yourself into every task until you’re exhausted and burned out in silence—because god forbid someone thinks you’re lazy or difficult.

No one else is working this hard, but you don’t know how not to.

You thought that’s just what being “normal” meant.

“Quiet, hardworking, always accommodating” should be just as much an autism red flag as

“talks too loud and never makes eye contact.”

But no one looks for us—

the overachievers, the anxious perfectionists, the trans girls who learned to mask with femininity and kindness because being nice felt safer than being real.

And the worst part?

No one notices how hard you’re trying.

You’re melting down behind your smile, overanalyzing every word,

and still people think you’re “so mature” or “so easy to get along with.”

I’m tired.

I’m tired of interpreting micro-expressions and tones like I’m deciphering ancient runes.

I’m tired of guessing how to exist in every room I walk into.

Please.

Just say what you mean.

Don’t make me guess if you’re mad at me or just tired.

Don’t make me decode whether you’re flirting or just being nice.

Don’t make me pretend I’m fine just because I don’t look overwhelmed.

I’m a trans girl.

I’m autistic.

I’m trying so, so hard to understand a world that never taught me how to belong.

I don’t need to be perfect.

I just want to be understood.

[arcanetrivia]

The thing about Discord is that just finding a server that has the conversations you're interested in can be difficult. Privately hosted email lists had this kind of problem too, that you sometimes could only even find out they existed by word of mouth, never mind join them. Sometimes you have to know a guy who knows a guy to get a hold of an invite code that hasn't expired by the time you come across it. (I get why they made the change that you couldn't make permanent ones if you weren't a Community server, but it can be frustrating sometimes.) Official servers for $THING may be listed publicly on $THING's website, but that's not the same as a by-fans-for-fans space that will probably have a much different culture and tone. There's Disboard, but not everything is on it. The central directory of a place like Yahoo Groups (whatever their other faults), being able to find communities and people that list certain interests on LiveJournal, the generally public or at least semi-public nature of a forum that can be found by a search engine... all of these supported discoverability. (And in my current primary fandom, besides the figurative "private group chat" that a Discord server is, I know there's some significant activity in literal private group chat. So unless you can somehow get admitted to a pre-existing group of friends, welp.)

IRC as a synchronous chat platform/protocol was there for a long time alongside (and is still in some cases, even with the ascendancy of Discord), and a lot of that ephemeral stuff has been lost unless people kept logs. But we're in a situation now where pretty much all there is, is the ephemeral, be it Discord, Twitter/Bluesky/Mastodon, Facebook (seems to actively work against finding and keeping up on what you want), Instagram (somehow even worse; my beloathed). DeviantArt worked decently well for a while, but every time they messed up site changes and policies in a way that angered artists, there was an exodus (similar to the waves of exodus from LiveJournal until now it's a ghost town unless you're Russian). Pillowfort... exists... but I am skeptical it's ever going to gain critical mass, even if Tumblr does completely go under one of these days.

And Tumblr itself... is better than nothing, but of course we all know how hard it can be to find things on because a lot of the older stuff isn't even indexed; and its structure really doesn't support coherent threaded conversation; and it's a bit too-little-too-late on their introduction of LJ/DW-style communities, which people here now don't seem to want.

(Semi-aside, not to be a Fandom Old, but re: reblogging/reposting, I see how such a thing can be a boon for those who really don't want to participate even on the level of an occasional comment here and there, but fandom was doing fine without such a feature on email lists, forums, LiveJournal. People actually were pretty annoyed when LJ tried to introduce a reposting-style feature, which was pretty clunky. The site hadn't been conceived with that sort of ecosystem in mind and it was rather grafted on. Think how people keep rejecting Tumblr's attempts at a short-form video feature: "Stop trying to be X other site and just be what you are! We're here because we want what is unique about this place!")

....sorry, I think I went on a bit of a pointless ramble there 😅

imo a discord server should be like a breakout room for fandom. like the place to run your wips by your besties or discuss your otp in more detail with a few people who were insane about it on your post or organise events with a handful of trusted mutuals etc etc. if it’s where ALL the fandom activity is going to happen it will inevitably foster a cliquey environment where the fandom is divided into “those in the server” and “those who aren’t”, lurking is disincentivised if not made outright impossible, people who feel uncomfortable joining in conversations and would rather interact with fandom through reblogging etc are largely excluded because there’s no repost mechanism, and the fandom itself becomes an enclosed space so new fans are limited in how much content and meta they can access without having to make the plunge into Joining The In Group, there’s limited scope for interaction between different communities within the same fandom, god it’s just an altogether dogshit stupid idea. what if we moved all fandom activity to really massive private groupchats. STUPID

[docrobinavitch]

been thinking a lot about abbott or robby finding out that gf!reader bought a ✨toy✨ sometime before they were together (maybe a rabbit vibe or something like that??) but it’s in her closet in the box and never has been opened because she was too nervous to use it or something, and then deciding they have to change that

hi hehe this literally made me go fucking insane teehee trying to be so normal about this um anyway this has not been proofread so hope it's not too insane ok love u thank u for the request nonnie u are sooooo big brain jack abbot x f!reader masterlist literally pure filth below the cut idk what to say u guys

“Babe,” Jack called down the hallway, “Have you seen my army sweatpants?”

It was an unseasonably cold day for late June. Rain came in spurts and fits, making soothing sounds against the window panes. They had had a slow Saturday morning, original plans to go the Farmer’s Market cancelled and replaced with coffee in bed and playing round after round of Street Fighter on your Switch (Jack could not accept defeat even when it became clear he would never fucking beat you) until close to noon.

Now you were in the kitchen starting a soup for dinner. He could just barely hear the rhythmic sounds of the knife against the cutting board and one of your playlists playing quietly in the background.

“I may have stolen them,” You called back, “Did you check my closet?”

He chuckled to himself, “No. Why would I check your closet for my clothes?”

“I think I put them on the top shelf!” You called, ignoring his snide comment.

He shook his head, a smirk on his face, as he went to search your closet. You were always stealing his clothes. It was difficult to be annoyed about it though, because he loved seeing you in them.

He spotted them almost immediately, in the corner on the shelf as you said. But as he pulled on them, a box fell down with them.

Jack bent to pick it up— And frowned when he saw what it was. Slowly, a smile crept onto his face. A vibrator. It was a shape he recognized, a rabbit, with a large shaft for penetration and a smaller one for clitoral stimulation. And by the looks of it, it was unopened.

“Hey, did you find—?“ You were still drying your hands on a dish towel when you stopped in the doorway of your closet.

Jack slowly looked up from the box, smirking at you as he did, turning it so you could see the picture on the cover, “What’s this?”

Immediately you were blushing, “Um, I just… I—I bought it when I was single and… and then we started dating and I didn’t…” You swallowed, noting that he seemed endlessly amused by how flustered you were, “I didn’t have need for it. Once we started dating.”

He looked at the box and then back to you, still smiling, “You didn’t even open it?”

You shrugged, “As I said, I didn’t have need for it.”

“But you kept it.”

You opened your mouth— Then closed it. Finally, you shrugged, “I don’t know. I was curious.”

“Well, we should open it then.”

If you were red before, your face became an inferno now as you snatched the box from his hands, “I don’t think that’s necessary,” You began to walk past him into the closet to put it away, but Jack lightly grabbed your arm as you tried to move past him.

“Look, I… I won’t force you, obviously, but… There’s no need to be so shy with me, you know?” He gently took your chin in his fingers and turned your head so you were looking at him, “I think it’s really hot.”

Finally, you managed a small smile, “Yeah?”

He nodded, “Did you finish the soup?”

You blinked at the sudden change of subject, “Uh, yeah. It has to simmer for a few hours.”

“Good,” He looked back down at the box in your hands, “How many orgasms do you think you can take before you’re begging me to stop?”

He watched your throat bob as your breathing hitched, “I guess we’ll find out?” You said, voice high and breathy.

He looked up at you, inhaling slowly as he did, and you watched his hazel eyes dilate with desire in real time.

“Why don’t you strip and get on the bed?” He said softly and pulled the box from your grasp.

You did as you were told, heat already stirring between your legs as you watched Jack get everything ready. Hyper focused as he tears open the box and begins pacing around your bedroom, grabbing a towel, grabbing lube, washing the new vibrator with soap and warm water.

He laid out a towel over the bed sheets and lightly pat it with his hand in silent invitation. Heart pounding, you laid down against the pillows, on top of the towel.

Jack seemed calm on the outside, but inside he was freaking the fuck out, looking at you sprawled naked on that towel, just waiting for him to touch you. Crawling over you, he placed a kiss on your forehead, “You’re okay?” He asked quietly.

Because he felt fucking feral, holding that vibrator in his hand, mind racing thinking of all the ways he could fucking torture you and pull orgasm after orgasm until there were tears streaming down your cheeks. But one word from you and he would put it away and act like he wasn’t phased at all. Delegate it to just a fantasy to have in his mind and never to hold.

But you looked up at him with those big puppy eyes of yours and nodded and he swore he would come apart right there. He kissed you slow and tenderly, knotting a hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling just enough that you gasped. He was addicted to the sounds you made whenever he touched you, the breathy sighs and the moans. Even the sleepy mewls you made still in sleep when he slipped into bed after a long shift.

Now, though, he wanted you a whimpering mess. Still kissing you, he pressed his thumb down on the vibrator, turning it on to its lowest setting.

Pulling away from you just a bit, he lightly pressed the vibrator to one of your nipples and was rewarded with another sigh as the bud pebbled. When he moved the vibrator to your other nipple, he leaned down to suck the other into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue. Already, already you were moaning so goddamn obscenely, he could feel his cock heavy and full in his briefs.

“Oh, f-fuck,” You stammered, arching your back. Underneath him, he felt your hips keen up, searching for pressure and friction wherever you could find it, “Jack, please.”

He laughed, “Sweetheart, it’s been like, thirty seconds.” He murmured into your neck, kissing and biting as he let the vibrator continue to assault your nipples, “You’re already that needy for me?”

Reaching a hand between your thighs, he was pleasantly surprised to find you absolutely dripping, “Jesus fucking Christ,” He swore under his breath, allowing his finger to sink into you once, twice— and then he pulled it out completely, ignoring the desperate sounds of your whines as he sucked your juices clean off his finger. He made sure you were looking at him as he did so, a mischievous smirk on his face.

You were positively pouting, lower lip pushed out as you continued to try and push your hips up and into him, but he pulled away again. “Alright, alright. Let’s see how you take it, then.”

Still on the lowest setting, he slowly dragged the vibrator up your inner thigh. He wanted you to get a feel for what it felt like, not wanting to overstimulate you too quickly. His eyes were locked on your face every second, still searching to make sure you still wanted this.

Your lust laden eyelids were drooping, but still locked on his. He watched the erratic rise and fall of your chest as he came closer and closer to your center. When the vibrator reached your outer lips, he spent some time circling them and could already see tears accumulating at the corners of your eyes. A pool of your juices had already begun collecting on the towel below you.

As soon as it caught his eye, his cock twitched. There was a dampness pooling in his own pants, but he could wait. There was something about the fact that you were so fucking undone with how little he and the vibrator had touched you that made him feel clinically crazy.

And he knew he wanted the vibrator to do the job, that’s why they were here, but he couldn’t just fucking watch you drip like this and do nothing about it. He needed to fucking taste you or he would lose his goddamn mind.

His tongue was deep inside you so quickly you cried out, a hand blindly reaching to knot itself in his salt and pepper curls. With the free hand that wasn’t wrapped around your thigh, he pressed the vibrator to your clit, and immediately, you’re coming. The vibrator was so much more stimulation than you were used to, that tears are already streaming down your cheeks as you come down.

Jack sat up, chin slick and shiny from you and reached a thumb to swipe away some of the tears on your cheek, “You wanna keep going?” He asked.

You nod, breathless, “Yes.”

He smirked as he grabbed the bottle of lube. He wasn’t sure that you’d need it, given how fucking soaked you were now with both his saliva and your own come, but just in case, he coated the shaft of the vibrator. It was not as thick or as long as he was, so he imagined you would take it just fine. But even the thought of hurting you unintentionally made him want to tear the world apart. So he’d stretch you slowly, watch you carefully for any discomfort.

When he met you, you had a hard time saying no. Not just to him, to anyone. He had tried to build your confidence, assure you that there was nothing you could say or do that would make him love you any less. And that anyone who couldn’t respect a boundary didn’t deserve your love and respect anyway. It was working, slowly, he thought. But there were still times you faltered when he could tell you wanted to say no. He had become an expert on it, the way your lips twisted to the side, or you avoided eye contact, or frowned just slightly when you said “yes,” but were really thinking “no.”

And so he watched you now as he lined the vibrator up with your entrance and added slow, constant pressure.

“There you go, sweetheart,” He cooed and you whined at the praise, “Tell me what you want, use your words.”

You rutted your hips up, “Please, Jack, more. Need more.”

Your cheeks were still damp from your last orgasm and your forehead slicked with sweat. You were so fucking gorgeous, he thought he might have a stroke just looking at you. And it would be worth it. He pushed the vibrator in, more and more until you were full and eyes rolling back into your head with pleasure. After he had thrusted it in and out a couple of times, he turned the vibrator up to a higher setting and you immediately burst out in sobs.

Jack stilled for a moment, “Should I stop?” He asked, almost panicked, his hand began to pull out—

But your hand grabbed his wrist, pulled it back flush against you as your hips began grinding against it again, “P-Please.” You begged again, a fucking pathetic mess.

He swallowed, hard, and kept thrusting the vibrator in and out of you.

“Jack,” You moaned after a few moments of this, “Jack, baby, want you to touch yourself. Could you do that for me?”

Jesus fucking Christ. He was going to die here. You were going to fucking kill him, he was sure of it. Nodding silently, to stunned to say anything else, he pulled his full cock out of his briefs, hissing as he stroked it once in time with the way he thrust the rabbit in and out of you. He ran a thumb over the pre cum that dripped out of his slit, slicking it over his head and couldn’t stifle the moan that came out.

“Oh, that’s so good,” You moaned, “So hot, Jack, keep going. Want you to come with me, please, could you?”

He’d never seen you like this. The toy had seemed to unlock something in you. Normally so obedient and looking to be told what to do in bed. But now, now you seemed confident enough to ask what you wanted. Tell him what to do to get you off. And it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his fucking life. He would do whatever the fuck you wanted, if you asked for it like this. So sweet and gorgeous as you were on the edge of coming undone again.

He turned the second, smaller shaft on and pressed it to your clit as he sped up the thrusts of both the vibrator and the hand that fisted his cock. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand on his cock, tongue darting out to wet your lips, pure desire lighting up your whole face as you stared at him jerking off in front of you. And it was too fucking much, watching you watch him like that, getting off on him touching himself.

“Oh, fuck,” He groaned and hot white ropes of come were shooting out onto your pussy, covering his hand that was still managing to keep thrusting the vibrator in and out of you. You came only seconds later, still crying and legs shaking uncontrollably as you began to come down.

Both of you breathing hard, he gently pulled the toy out of you and wiped it against the towel that was under you. He laid down next to you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your mouth as he did so.

You rested your sweaty head against his shoulder and the both of you sat in silence for a few moments.

Then, you turned your head slightly to look at him, “Again?” You asked, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice.

He laughed then, short and loud, “Fuck me,” He groaned, but sat up anyway, “Again.” He agreed.

You were definitely going to fucking kill him.

[yandere-sins]

Leona is smart but he hasn't realized something AHAHA

If his duchess aka darling were to give birth, that child of his WILL be held to the same standards as their mom. Perhaps even higher; if their mother is a nobody who ends up as a duchess loved by the people and the royal family, the child who is of royal blood SHOULD be as good or better than their mother.

Which means that in the long run, Leona will have less time to spend with his duchess because everyone encourages the duchess to be heavily involved in her kid's education. As you said, the royal family nags Leona and praises his darling, so ofc the royal family encourages mommy-kid bonding time so that the child will take after her.

Ah, imagine being second-place to his brother, second-place as a father because your kid spends a lot of time with your wife and not you, and second-place in the hearts of the people.

Oh man, the last section really made my heart ache for my poor baby ;; Leona, you'll always be my number one!!!

That aside, you have a good point there! The child definitely has to live up to their title, but also probably not as strictly as the first-born of the reigning monarch. That's at least Leona's excuse as he takes his child out of the busy schedule despite protests (because, well, he's still the highest ranking in his own family, so no one can really go against him) and takes them on a daddy-kid date! Who can begrudge him for being a good father? No one!

Quite the contrary! If he takes the child out of the palace and shows them around by his side, people will actually start approving of him more, as it shows good character to be a good, involved father. They'd even praise him, and if he does it regularly, the kid is a great way to improve his standing with the people! Sure, his reputation won't be flawless, but at least people add, "But he is a good father," to it now.

It's a lot of work, but imagine how good the reception will be once he manages to unite all three—father, mother, child—in certain events, showing up and always carrying his kid around or feeding it despite having sitters and nannies for that! Now everyone sees, is a happy little family, united by a child and deeply in love in the public's eye. People are already speculating about baby number two by the way Leona holds his darling in public, rubbing their belly and whispering into their ear that he got it all under control.

The one thing the public loves more than a dedicated noble is a noble family, after all. And it'll bring them all together again, which is just the cherry on top (;

Bold of you to assume Rook wouldn't snap and try to hunt a lion.

That is interesting!

I can't help but think about how big the betrayal would be that not only Leona's darling wants to escape, but they seek the help of some former, annoying classmate! You could have just tried on your own or continued to try and turn everyone against Leona, but you chose to seek out the one annoying person that you shouldn't have. There are a lot of things Leona can forgive, but Rook helping his love run away is not one of them.

You can be happy if he doesn't kill Rook right in front of your eyes (nearly impossible anyway). Still, if Rook gets caught (he won't), Leona will make sure that he gets locked up for something as bad as attempted regicide, at least! All while you are kept locked up, chained to the bed, with doctors saying it is "necessary" for your "recovery". To the public, Leona will make it look like you were kidnapped and almost died as a consequence. People will be outraged, demanding justice! You are their beloved duchess that would never betray them, right?

This way, he has enough time to punish you for what happened. No one will ask if he leaves bruises and wounds on you, as he can simply explain it as the remnants of your kidnapping. It also allows him to spend time with you undisturbed, as your caring husband simply helps you with your recovery during this difficult time and asks for everyone's understanding that you need this to feel better. The people love you, after all, they'd want him to be with you and fulfill his vows to you.

However, behind closed doors, you'll not be spared all his anger and frustrations. All the things you've been refusing to do with him by avoiding him like the pest. He'll have someone come to implant a tracking device in you so you can never do something as foolish as this again, all while Leona mocks you for your failure and for relying on someone like Rook to help you. Luckily, you can make it up to him—if you suffer as much as you made him suffer with your stupid idea of fleeing.

Still, he stays awake and alert by your side at night. Always making sure no one comes back for you, while also imagining the ways Rook probably touched you to help you over barriers, tracing the spots he suspects the hunter's hands were on you with his hands and lips and even biting them to reclaim them. Leona can't get over the frustration of knowing you were by another man's side, blaming himself for every minute he didn't notice you were gone.

But don't worry. It's a mistake he learned never to repeat, too.

[maocin]

To my understanding this is a bit of a "you'll know it when you see it" but I think one could broadly generalize the deer skull Christian god stuff and pomegranate stuff as separate instances of the same thing.

Deer skull Christian god is when white Americans living on razed land and immersed in hegemonic Christian culture look into a new-growth forest and start talking about connecting to Nature and to the Old Gods. It's "pagans" who are just putting a fresh coat of mythological paint on the protestant values their grandparents had. It's the modern version of those hudson river valley school painters. You might see what I'm talking about in the context of landscape painting, how there's either "pretty tree (I like to paint trees)" or "pretty tree (granted thus to mankind by the LORD our God, and the God of our fathers, and of Isaac, and of Abraham, and of Jacob)". Normally the difference is the lighting.

Pomegranate poetry is all those poems you see about how love is like a pomegranate because it stains your hands and you want to eat the other person and it's very difficult but very rewarding. This one if you Google you will find hundreds of examples very quickly. It was a good metaphor the first time it was written, I'm sure, but when it's the ten thousandth poem, it starts to be annoying. Melodramatic instead of evocative.

The broad category of this Thing that's being complained about is, I _think_, the tendency of unskilled, uncurious, or uninteresting writers to return to popular figurative language instead of being inspired to write their own, leading to tons of overwrought writing that falls flat due to the lack of thought, intent, and depth. Combine that with the Tumblr Tone (tm) that I'm sure you have some familiarity with and you get this angsty style of writing that's just tossing figurative language out there, often stuff that the writer has absolutely no connection to.

This is all thoughts though. I can try to find some posts of the original thing to rather than posts mocking it, but this sort of stuff is dying out now that people are so sick of it. That, or the current crop of these writers has gotten mature enough to not post their slop and we'll get some different boring trite motifs when the next ones come along. Really it should be always remembered that I don't know anything about anything and am just guessing.

I think it's important to occasionally make fun of Deer Skull Christian God Pomegranate type writing for the exact same reason that you have to actually write that sort of thing. You have to develop an original voice as an author and that will inevitably take you through the Faux Gothic Melodrama Swamps.

[kaivenom]

Shooting Gallery Date

Summary: you both are spending some time on the shooting gallery, more like Leon is having fun and you are watching him. That is until you decide to take some action.

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Warning: sexual tension but mostly cute couple goals.

A/N: purely self-indulgent, it was time that I write somehing for this men.

Masterlist

The spanish music was sounding loud on the speakers of the gallery, so high that you can almost ignore the shooting sounds of your boyfriend's gun.

He was on his 30th try for the S rank and you were starting to get upset. Your book is interesting but mix it with the music, the shooting, uncomfortable barrel you are using as a seat, etc... and you end up running out of patience.

When he told you about going on a date, you expected something different, even thought you aren't going to complaint about his biceps showing.

"Aishhhhhhh..." you sighted again, everytime more obvious, trying to get Leon's attention.

"Fine, I am done, this is impossible." he left the gun on the desk and the beeping sound of the end came around.

"So... we can go take dinner?" he looked really annoyed and you thought for a moment that he was too angry to spent time with you, but his look softened.

"Come here." he said with a sweet voice, so you did.

He put his arms around your waist and kissed your lips slowly.

"I know I didn't give you the attention you expected... i got a little self-absorbed by my competitiveness." his low voice on your´neck made you shiver, "come here."

He sat you on the desk and continued kissing you, really deep and passional, just what you needed. You put your arms and legs around him so your bodies are closer. But then an idea popped into your mind.

"So... what it is so interesting about these thing." you took one of the guns and started moving it, inspecting it casually.

"Don't move that like a toy, it is not." he took the gun out of your hands and kissed your cheeks playfully. "Why do you suddently care?"

"Maybe I want to know what my boyfriend was so interesting in, that he left me forgotten on a barrel for TWO HOURS" that last thing was a little more agressive that you expected.

"Ok, then you are going to see it. Come down." you put yourself on the ground and Leon turns you around, facing the cardboard objectives.

His chest presses against your back and you could feel all his muscular and trained body. His hands moved up and down your arms, as if he was encouraging you.

"Now, you grab the gun like this." his arms surround you and the gun is placed on your face.

His fingers help you put yours in place, but concentrating is difficult with is cologne next to you and his jawline next to your head.

"Now, we press and shoot." the noisy BAMM made you step back but Leon's body was the perfect wall.

A small deep laugh came from his chest and you can't help but frown. Then, you both realized you did a score, on the head of the cardboard figure.

"I am a pro."

"Begginer's luck." he sounded a little upset, and you can't help but kiss his neck.

His addam's apple trembled and a low grunt escaped his lips.

"Do you want another try?" his look was more than determined now.

"I do."

With each shoot your bodies were closer and your cheeks blushed more. Your aim was getting better, try by try.

"I think we can try together."

"Oh really?" his hug almost cut your breathing.

"I do, at least we can try, what is one more attempt?"

And finally, with your help, Leon finally got the S rank. You were jumping with excitement and he was static looking at the screen.

"Maybe what you needed since the begining was to include your girlfriend on your plans."

You couldn't continue because his lips were on yours, needy as you never saw him. He pressed you against the wall.

"Yeah, maybe I needed to do that... that was such a turn on and I finally got the S rank. Now, We go take dinner, I pay and we go to a hotel so I can give you the love an attention you deserve."

[atwhughesversion]

attempt at a positive take on the evander kane acquisition:

i am TRYING to consistently find positivity in what the canucks do. trying so hard. but god why must they keep making it so difficult 😭

he’s a local player who is now playing for his hometown team.

he’s in the final year of his contract and therefore may have the “contract year bump” to his game

he really really sucks to play against, and will at the very least annoy our opponents

he can be a top 6 talent. he’s getting up there in age and just spent an entire season on LTIR (and was lacklustre in the playoffs), but he is still more experienced playing top 6 minutes — and has produced in some instances — than some of the other options we have.

from all i’ve heard, he’s matured since his earlier days and has been a perfectly good teammate and community member during his time in edmonton. he will always be a bit of a bitch, but maybe his most damning personality attributes are in the past.

quinn has another bodyguard?

hopefully he has a bone to pick with edmonton and will turn into evander McKane against them! worst-case scenario for the oilers is that he plays well for a divisional rival, so hopefully that comes to fruition.

he will give us lots of opportunities to practice our goated PK

one thing about the canucks is that you need to expect the unexpected — this seems like an atrocious acquisition that will doom us all? maybe it’s going to end up working out well!

[snowbellewells]

Birthday Fic for @kmomof4: "Dreams that You Wish Will Come True" {Part Three} *Story Now Complete*

Oh goodness, the day is finally here! Poor Krystal @kmomof4 had to wait almost until her next birthday for her gift to be finished, but here is the last chapter to this Reverse Cinderella CS AU. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I really enjoyed trying to tie this up with a big fairy tale happy ending bow! I hope all of you reading it will enjoy and let me know what you think.

Without further adieu, here is Part Three...

Summary: Granted a night to seek adventure and dreams, young Killian Jones meets young Princess Emma at her birthday ball. Though the moment is filled with all the excitement and magic of the best fairy tales, it is over too soon and he must leave before the dream is shattered. Will they find each other again?

A Reverse Cinderella AU for (@kmomof4) Krystal's Birthday

You can also read from the beginning here on Tumblr, or on AO3, if that is your preference...

Part Three

When Killian managed to escape the palace, slipping through the wide front gates with a deep sigh of relief, he could see the carriage in which he had arrived waiting for him, Liam beckoning him frantically from the window. He had no time to mourn leaving the stunning princess - who had seemed to wish he would stay - or the marvelous evening he had enjoyed. He did not know the exact consequences which would be visited on him if he missed his given deadline, but he did not relish finding out, particularly in front of an entire ball’s audience as witnesses. Her Royal Highness Emma of Misthaven had beguiled him completely, more than he would have even imagined possible, and he would have remained there beside her on that balcony, or holding her in his arms as they danced, forever if it were possible, but it was simply not to be.

It was only as he was seated and they were speeding away from the castle that Killian delved his hand into his pocket, fishing for the ring that had once belonged to their mother so he could return it to Liam’s care. But to his surprised dismay, his fingers brushed only the inside of his pockets, not a smooth curve of metal. Withdrawing his hand with a sinking feeling, Killian looked to his elder sibling forlornly, knowing his brother would immediately sense something was not right.

“What is it, Little Brother?” Liam spoke up right on cue, concern evident in the crack of his voice. “I realize you had to leave the party early, but your face suddenly looks as if something much worse has happened.”

It was a testament to just how upset Killian was that the customary instinct to correct his brother’s annoying choice of moniker didn’t even whisper in his mind. Drawing in a resigned breath, it was all Killian could do to meet Liam’s eye, though determined to give him at least that much. Instead, he pulled both pockets inside out to demonstrate the proof of his words. “Liam, forgive me, but Mother’s ring is no longer here. I didn’t take it out. I felt its presence at my side often throughout the night, and yet… now…it is gone.”

Both of the Jones brothers seemed sunk in painful silence after that, not sure what - if any - words there were to offer after such an irreversible finding. The ring was not intrinsically of value, but it was priceless as a physical tie to the woman who bore them and loved them both with all she had until life was taken from her much too soon. Liam looked out the window, wondering how to ease this pain and how to ease Killian’s obvious guilt for something that was not his fault at all, just an unfortunate loss which could have happened to anyone. A muscle worked in his jaw, causing Killian to incorrectly assumer anger or irritation as he snuck glances at Liam, causing him to berate himself even further. He tried to replay the events of the evening - difficult because his focus had narrowed to little beyond the Princess Emma once she’d spoken to him - desperate to come up with any moment, any place, the ring might have been lost. And still he came up with nothing.

Killian had already been saddened by having to leave the beautiful young woman who had needed only moments to steal his heart, but his spirits had sunken lower still with the loss of the irreplaceable keepsake with which Liam had entrusted him. As the carriage slowed upon the cobblestone streets leading down to the docks, the wheels rolled to a halt and Liam reached out to grasp his forearm tightly; a grasp firm, but far from being harsh or painful. His brother’s eyes were stormy slate, almost gray instead of their normal slightly darker blue than his own. Yet, Killian finally realized, they held a hurt, yes, but none of the recrimination or blame he had assumed. 

“Brother, it wasn’t your fault,” Liam rasped, holding his gaze steadily in a bid to convey his seriousness. “You did nothing wrong. The ring is gone, aye, but naught can be done about it now. These things happen, and we shall simply have to go on without it.”

Killian blinked, nonplussed, uncertain that he had heard Liam correctly. “But y-you kept it safe all this time… a-and the first time you trusted me with it, I - I lost it… The one thing we still had of Mother’s,” Killian stammered, eyes falling to his lap.

“Yes, but Killian,” Liam soothed, calloused forefinger curling under his chin to tip Killian’s face up to meet his own once more, “it was an accident - one that could have happened to me just as easily, or to anyone, for that matter. Besides, it is still just a thing, precious as it was to us for being hers. It isn’t her; holding onto it won’t bring her back. We still have our memories, with or without the talisman to accompany them.”

Killian was speechless and overcome at those words, and at the certain knowledge that Liam meant them sincerely. Finally, he managed to nod his understanding and swallowed hard, though he was unable to force any words past the lump in his throat. Leaning over where their knees nearly met between the facing carriage seats, he threw his arms around his brother’s neck, embracing him tightly. “Thank you,” he finally managed wetly against Liam’s shoulder.

To which Liam merely hummed lowly, returned his embrace and patted his back until they parted, much calmer and more at ease.

Stepping down the cobblestone byway, Killian barely took note of the horse and driver clattering off - brought by magic and obviously returning the same way. He looked down to the end of the dock. Through the misty lantern-lit dim of earliest morning, he could see where their ship bobbed gently in her berth. No matter what he had experienced this night - the magical, enthralling moments he could never have dreamed if they hadn’t been true, the panicked flight as the clock struck midnight, and the horrible loss of their family token, the first charming blush of love and the aching pull of tearing himself from her - he had come full circle back to where he’d begun. He would never forget the magical meeting, the chance to dance with the princess herself; yet, it had not truly changed anything, now that it was over. He would still board the ship again, working side-by-side with his brother until they were free, and he would simply have to treasure what he remembered of the marvelous night he had been gifted. For one night, he could have almost imagined he was a prince to match her in a happily ever after. And that would have to be enough for him.

~~~~*~~~~

Though Killian would not have thought it possible in the immediate aftermath, and he had been loathe to open his eyes to the familiar bunk and crowded quarters the morning following Princess Emma’s birthday ball, life did rather quickly settle back into its familiar rhythm. It certainly wasn’t the fine clothing, rich food, and orchestral music he had experienced for those few fleeting hours at the royal palace, nor would climbing up to the crow’s nest for lookout duty or the well-rehearsed way he and Cook wove and slipped around each other in the limited galley space to prepare and serve the crew’s meals be anything equal to the unforgettable whirl of the dances he had shared with his blonde siren that night. But, though there was an ache in his chest, a void he had not known existed until meeting her, Killian Jones was much too busy, worked much too hard from dawn until dark to dwell, or grow truly miserable. He wished he had not been forced to leave the way he had, that he could have at least taken time to explain to the princess, but he tried to be comforted by the fact that she surely was not suffering for it; Princess Emma must have forgotten all about him before the week was out. He was a nobody with whom she had shared barely an hour, and with all the other suitors and friends and family by which she was surrounded, she would obviously be right as rain in no time.

As if they had never met.

If only that weren’t the opposite of comfort to him.

And if only he truly believed it.

Occasionally, on quiet night when his duties were completed and he could slip away without being noticed, Killian sat on deck, looking up at the stars silently, thinking even their heavenly glow could not match the sparkle of her green eyes. It was some tiny solace that, as far removed as he was from her, if Emma looked up to the sky as well, they would be gazing at the very same stars.

He simply could not relinquish the small flare of hope that had been ignited inside by either the incredible night, or the magic of his fairy godmother, or some strange amalgamation of the two. Sometimes, he even swore he heard Nova’s small, musical voice whispering in his ear amidst the quiet sky and the gentle lapping of waves against the hull, telling him not to give up, his story was not over yet.

Killian Jones, well out to sea and far away from the happenings of Misthaven and the talk of those who lived there, had no way of knowing that far from being forgotten, his princess thought of him every day. She tried valiantly to conceal her emotions, to appear normal and unfazed by the fact that the young man to whom she had given her undivided attention and favor had fled from her ball - and her - and seemingly disappeared. The ones who knew her best were hardly fooled, but they allowed Emma her brave face. After all, she was still searching for him.

When Will had first shown her the antique ring on the worn chain and told her it had been in the pocket of the young man who’d captured her heart, Emma had taken it as a sign. The fact that she held in her possession an item that was obviously dear to him had been some encouragement to her in the immediate aftermath of Killian’s hasty exit. She had been certain he would quickly return looking for the trinket. Her plan had not been to hold the ring ransom of course, but to hand it over gladly once he explained to her what had gone wrong, why he’d left her with such speed, and she hoped to ascertain the truth in his eyes or his voice to understand if it had all been in her head, or if what she had felt between them was still there.

However, days, and then weeks, then nearly a month, had passed with no sign of Killian, no appearance made to claim what was rightfully his. Emma vacillated between wanting to box Will’s ears for picking Killian’s pockets in the first place and taking from him something that she could just feel had great sentimental value, and then wanting to squeeze him about the waist until his breath caught, thankful she had something to hold onto, to remind her that Killian and that whole night, those precious moments in his arms and together on the balcony, had not been a fictitious mirage. She would admit to no one that she slept with the ring beneath her pillow each night, her fingers tangled in the chain, but she did just that. It dangled from her grasp as she stared up at the moon and stars from her balcony, wondering where he might be under those same constellations, and she often fell asleep wondering if she would ever see the mysterious young man of her dreams again.

At first, when Killian had failed to return, Princess Emma had been stymied. She was clever and determined, and though hardly spoiled, she was beloved and honored by all of those around her; rarely did her wishes and plans fail to come to fruition. It was not until she finally broke down and spoke to her father when they were alone in his study one afternoon that a new course of action began to take shape.

After reluctantly admitting that she wanted to go searching for the young gentleman she had met at the ball (a fact her father had long since surmised but was prudent enough not to mention) and explaining how they had seemingly been interrupted by the ticking of time itself, the King suggested a plan that Emma could enthusiastically approve. It was ingenious in seeming perfectly natural for her to do anyway as she matured and her royal duties as heir to the throne increased. In fact, Emma wondered how she had not come up with it herself.

From there on out, whenever her father went to inspect a ship of their fleet, offer a sailor a promotion, or christen a new ship, she would accompany him. No one would find it at all odd for the princess to do so; in fact it might add to the occasion, and she meanwhile could look for her sailor in particular.

Unfortunately, just as Killian had no way of knowing Emma was seeking him so earnestly, she had no way of knowing that his ship was not part of their Misthavian fleet, and no matter how many she boarded she would not find him there. She had taken up her father’s idea with unfettered enthusiasm, but as several more months passed with no further luck than before she couldn’t help being disheartened. It would seem that somehow this one special person who had touched her soul had somehow sailed beyond her reach - somewhere she might never find him.

It might have carried on that way interminably if Killian’s fairy godmother had not once again used a touch of her magic to intervene. While Silver’s ship was hardly a law-abiding vessel of any kingdom, there was little chance of her charge being united with the young princess, whom she as a fairy could see was his True Love. And Nova was tired of waiting; this young man had already been twisted and pulled by the vagaries of Fate for entirely too long. The fact that he had been so surprised by her initial appearance proved that. She was called upon to be his benefactress, and now that she had begun the job, Nova was not ready to give up.

It was simple enough for a clever and determined being with magic to effect a small but troubling leak in the hull of the pirate ship - one that necessitated their entering the nearest port - conveniently, as Nova had intended, Misthaven’s - and docking for repairs. Easier still to make certain that the shipwright Silver sent his first mate to see had difficulty locating the needed materials, ensuring the ship and its crew would remain long enough for her youthful sailor to be reunited with his match.

Once the fairy had accomplished her part, she did not even have to provide a nudge on the other side as she had anticipated. It would seem that True Love carried within itself a powerful type of kismet. Barely had Captain Silver and most of his crew disembarked and dispersed throughout the village - to taverns, market stalls, and beyond - than a commotion alerted those few left aboard to an entourage of some sort approaching along the docks.

Killian was below deck when the heavily arrayed and armored phalanx neared his ship’s berth and paused to look up. He had scrubbing in the galley to do and a mess of potatoes to peel and slice for dinner besides. So it was only an older sailor and Liam, left aboard as lookouts, who actually saw the visitors were King David, the Princess, and a number of castle guards, now formally requesting permission to come aboard. Neither sailor was prepared to deny the monarch, regardless of the fact that they were hardly a ship of his loyal fleet, nor strictly under his domain.

Once the King planted his feet solidly on the bare planks of the ship, he faced the two men with one hand resting confidently on the pommel of his sword and his discerning eyes seeming to drill through Liam uncomfortably. “Are you all who are left on the vessel? And what is your purpose within our port? You are not from here, that much is obvious.”

Before either Liam or his befuddled compatriot could decide how best to answer that second query, the princess stepped to King David’s side with quiet dignity, laying a soft hand upon her father’s forearm as though giving a calming reminder. She did not speak aloud, but the look shared between father and daughter spoke volumes, and coupled with a slight shake of her head, the King seemed to pause and mentally draw back, ceding center stage to his daughter.

“Greetings,” the Princess began, her voice calm and measured, but carrying a low, husky warmth that Liam could immediately admit was intriguing. “Thank you for your hospitality. We realize, of course, that this is an open port as long as no malfeasance is occurring or harm is coming to any of our subjects via a visitor’s presence; therefore, you have extended us a courtesy in allowing us to board.”

Liam’s eyes shot back to the king and his gathered attachment, as the monarch flinched slightly but held himself in check, and many of those armed and at the ready to defend him seemed to fidget restlessly. It had to be clear that they were neither a naval nor a merchant vessel, and none on the deck seemed at ease with the other contingent’s presence except for the Princess standing in the middle of them all.

Her eyes were knowing, and her mouth bore an almost bemused upward quirk at the corner of her full, pink lips. He could swear she was practically winking at him, as if to convey that she knew who they were, but was not about to let it concern or thwart her mission. “Let us simply agree that lectures on moral sea trading practice and fealty to kingdom and crown are not the purpose for our visit,” she assured, her voice steady and strong, but also nonthreatening; a true feat since her words confirmed that she understood what they were normally about on the Merry Rogue.

She stepped nearer still to Liam, every movement poised and graceful as the Queen she would one day become, and peered up into his face, searching his eyes as if she saw something within their depths that she recognized. 

Nonplussed by both her words and bearing, as well as her mere presence altogether, Liam simply dipped his chin in an obliging nod to acknowledge her words. “Understood,” he agreed simply. “And if that be the case, then what do you ask of us, your Highness?”

Beneath her placid surface, the Princess’ eyes flickered with a pained emotion as she drew in a deep breath, then leaned closer to confide quietly. “I am hoping to find someone who means a great deal to me,” she admitted at a volume that quite possibly only he could hear. “I’ve been seeking him for months now, on each new ship christened, at every ball since, whenever we offer promotions or awards to our sailors…” She trailed off and swallowed hard before continuing once more. “I have used any capacity available to me as princess to search, but in truth, I did not step aboard this ship today as a royal, but merely as a person trying to follow her heart. When we neared your ship’s berth, I had a feeling, a pull in my gut which I couldn’t ignore. And so,” here she pulled herself to her full height again, straightening and squaring her shoulders as if to ready herself for any response, then repeated the question her father had asked, but in a tone of desperate hope. “Are there any others on board this ship at present?”

Liam’s heart had begun to race as she spoke, realizing more with each moment that passed that the beauty standing before him was as taken with his younger brother as Killian had been with her. He had known the princess on sight, but had been wary, uncertain of the royals’ purpose at first and intent on keeping Killian from further pain or risk if he could. Seeing now that his brother’s silent yearning - obvious despite Killian’s dogged efforts to carry on with life - had not been in vain, nor was it one-sided, Liam could not keep a wide grin from stretching across his face ridiculously, nearly bowled over by the miraculous turn of events.

“Just one other, Princess,” he replied. “My brother is below in the galley. Allow me to fetch him for you.” Liam knew that his voice had trembled audibly with emotion, nerves and excitement, but was powerless to stop it. Moving to the open hatch, he called down the stairs. “Killian! You’re needed topside, Little Brother!”

They could all hear the rattle and clang of dishes banging below and then a playfully exasperated call in answer, “That’s younger brother!” in a tone that clearly said it had been repeated often before it was followed by the added, “I’ll be there in a moment! Hold on!”

They waited wordlessly, but it was hard to decide who was more anxious for him to appear - Liam or the Princess. Both gave each other nervous smiles, fidgeting and shuffling their feet, and neither was willing to look away from the open hatch and the steps leading below deck.

When a dark, ruffled head of hair appeared in the opening, followed by the familiar blue-eyed face and crooked smile, then shoulders and torso as Killian climbed the ladder fully, Princess Emma drew in a sharp breath, her eyes widening and going teary-bright as she saw him before her at last. After all her searching and beginning to wonder if he could be found, there he stood - not a figment of her imagination at all, thankfully. Emma glanced quickly over her shoulder at her Papa, as though confirming that he saw Killian too.

King David merely nodded, a gentle look on his regal face now, pleased for her and seeming to urge her forward, to do whatever she had come to do.

That seemed to steady Misthaven’s hair to the throne once more. Emma wet her lips nervously with the tip of her tongue, her eyes roving over his features avidly, even as her fingers twisted together where she clasped her hands before her. No shrinking violet, even in this clearly pivotal moment, however, she drew a step nearer still and finally addressed him directly. “Killian, you’re really here. I began to fear you’d vanished off the face of the Earth.”

She gave him a playful grin along with those shaky words, but Killian’s heart stuttered at the sincerity he heard beneath her attempt at brave jest. She had questions, rightfully so, and unbelievable as it seemed, self doubts as well unless his senses misjudged things. In truth, he was still trying to recover from the surprise at seeing her there on a ship fit for rogues and scoundrels, not royalty, and his heart tried to beat from his chest at the very idea that she would have sought him out after his flight from the ball. He was hardly worthy of her undivided attention then, much less her extended effort after the fact. Huskily, Killian managed to at least say something, knowing he needed to speak and not just stare at her mutely in an attempt to drink in her image. “Aye, it’s me, Princess. Killian Jones at your service.” He sketched a quick bow with those words, then winced at the awkwardness of the hasty gesture.

The princess gave a huff of humor and wry self-deprecation at his response. “It would have been helpful to have that last name before now,” she sighed, shaking her head.

Killian didn’t know how to answer that, still baffled to find her standing before him in all her glowing, golden beauty, much less that she would have remembered even the first name he had carefully given her or try to seek him out with it.

Princess Emma seemed to shake herself from that frustration quickly, waving her hand as if to bat away her own words. “Nevermind,” she pressed on, meeting his gaze earnestly, “in any case, I have something I need to give you.”

Reaching into the small pouch that rested at her hip, Emma drew out a blessedly recognizable circle of metal on a heavy chain - the missing ring that Killian had believed he’d lost. Almost breathlessly, Killian reached out to take the treasured piece of jewelry from her, opening his hand and clasping his fingers closed around it as the chain slid from her grip and the comforting weight landed on his palm. “Thank you,” he stammered, dazed with the turn of events yet again. “I cannot tell you how much it means to have this back… It- it belonged to my mother.”

Emma’s eyes went soft and misty, as if she could somehow discern the loss behind that statement. The small grin she was giving him wobbled a bit, but she nodded before adding, “Well, it was the least I could do after my ne’er-do-well friend picked it from your pocket. Before you shower me with too much gratitude, I believe I owe you an apology.”

Here, she bowed her head, suddenly appearing as bashful as he had felt from the start. Unable to stop himself, or consider the impropriety of his actions, Killian leaned forward, tipping her chin up with gentle fingers so he could meet her glistening jade eyes once more. “No please, don’t worry about that, your Highness. Truly, I am in your debt.”

At his words, her smile grew, blooming across her face like sunshine after rain. Neither of them spoke for some time as they gazed at each other breathlessly. None of those scattered around them moved or spoke either, as if unwilling to shatter a moment in which the very air seemed to waver with a charge of energy or magic, some force that could not be denied.

When Princess Emma spoke again, she seemed to be gathering her courage once more before nervously chewing her lower lip and reaching out to clasp his hand in both of her smaller ones. “I have one more confession to make,” she admitted in barely more than a whisper.

Killian didn’t know where the cheekiness that somehow overtook him just then came from, but he tilted his head, arching one brow curiously as he did, before rasping, “You mean beyond theft, Milady? Why what else could it be?” He wanted to bite off his own tongue as soon as the flippant retort was uttered, but then quickly changed his mind upon seeing the flush that rose up the princess’ cheeks and the intrigued spark that flickered across her expression. He nearly laughed aloud before her next words utterly floored him and stunned him to silence.

“Yes, something else,” she recovered, seeming determined to say whatever else she had in mind. Gathering a breath that visibly filled her lungs and then letting it out in a whoosh of air, she pressed their joined hands tightly and plunged ahead. “Right now, I stand before you, not as a princess and future ruler, but as a woman - young though I might be - who has been unable to forget you since the night we met. I might have held your family heirloom unintentionally, but it would seem you have held onto my heart.” She paused just briefly there, pinning him with the hope in her eyes as his mouth fell open, all words completely gone, just as she asked for a response. “Killian Jones, will you stay in Misthaven and allow us to discover what might be here between us? Is it possible you might feel the same?”

Killian’s mouth opened and closed fruitlessly without any sound coming out. Panicked, he began to hope she could somehow see the pounding of his heart beneath his shirt where it seemed to be attempting to beat right out of his chest. Of course, he felt the same!  But in that moment he couldn’t summon the words to tell her so…

His worries that she might see his floundering and change her mind, and the racing whirl of his scattered thoughts, was interrupted by a strong nudge in his back from Liam, nearly causing him to fall forward at Emma’s feet. “Well, answer her, Brother!” Liam urged jovially, his voice brimming with happiness and humor. “Heaven knows you’ve been miserable missing her, don’t leave the lady in suspense now that she’s here before you again!”

Flicking a quick, embarrassed look over his shoulder, Killian noticed the genuine pride in him and excited joy for his good fortune shining from his elder brother’s face, just as it had that night they had presented him with clothing and a way to the ball. Turning back to face Emma once more, he noted her spotless white gown and the ermine stole about her shoulders, the shining curls of her hair and her perfect face. He didn’t want to think about the stains that were undoubtedly scattered over his patched and threadbare clothes, nor the smudges and cuts that must be visible on his face and hands from hard work and long days in the wind and sun. He wanted to tell her how much he had thought of her as well, but he simply wasn’t sure he had the right…

Just as she had before, Emma tilted her head, studying his face, still hopeful, though anxious as well, and then her eyes softened. It was as if once more she had read his thoughts and knew exactly what he was thinking and feeling, and she understood him in a way he had never experienced before. Stepping so close that their noses nearly brushed and she could speak for his ears alone, she prodded tenderly. “It’s alright, Killian. Just tell me the truth.”

Meeting her gaze fully, Killian could only be honest, deserving of the gift she was offering or not. Reaching out tenderly, he brushed a curl back over her shoulder, trembling at the nerve it took him to do so. “Aye, Princess, I feel the same. I would love nothing more than to remain by your side. I am the furthest thing from a prince or nobleman, but if you truly want to continue our acquaintance, I am happy to do as you wish.”

Her beaming face seemed like a vision from a dream, almost blinding him. They stood grinning at each other for several long seconds before the Princess reached out, caught the edges of his collar and pulled him the last few inches to her so their lips could meet. The moment they did, shocks ran through Killian, colors bursting behind his eyes. Everyone on the deck of the Rogue felt the wave of power that radiated out from the two young people caught up in their first kiss. Killian and Emma jolted back a step, and all who were present seemed to reel and barely stay on their feet.

Killian struggled to grasp what had happened as he heard the King let out a whoop of recognition from behind them. Just before he surged forward to gather both his daughter and her chosen consort up in an exuberant embrace, Princess Emma’s eyes widened in shock as she stared at him. Looking down, Killian found that his appearance had been transformed. Gone were the work clothes of a servant, and in their place was the finery he had worn the night of the ball, as if returned by magic. From head to toe, he looked as though he had been put right back in that very moment. 

Caught up in the King’s strong arms and pressed warmly to his Princess’ side, Killian was stunned once again when he heard the man huskily whisper to his daughter. “True Love’s Kiss, Pumpkin. You’ve found your own.”

It was almost more than Killian could fathom, but as his mind steadied, he knew. He could feel in it his bones, and in his own heart. His eyes returned to Emma and neither of them could bring themselves to look away. The pleasant warmth and sense of rightness, of home at last, that enveloped him then was only strengthened by a moment’s echo of what sounded like tinkling fairy laughter in his ear.

~~~~*~~~~

Six months later, when Killian Jones and Princess Emma of Misthaven stood on the balcony of the palace to announce their engagement to the people, no one gathered there could remember a more joyous or perfect occasion. Killian was announced as a lieutenant of the Queen’s Royal Navy, to which he and Liam had both been enlisted almost as soon as he and Emma were reunited, free at last from the service of Captain Silver in which they had been trapped since their youth. Laughter rang out as the King’s footman, standing next to Lieutenant Jones’ side pretended to take the engagement ring for the Princess from the sailor’s own pocket and presented it to him with a winking bow so Killian could place it on her finger. None of the assembled crowd below could know the secret significance of the gesture or the role Will Scarlet had inadvertently played in their finding one another again. Nor would they realize that the ring was Killian and Liam’s mother’s, the same one Emma had returned to him that day - now a symbol not just of his past and the family he had lost, but of their future and the family they would create together. Her parents and his brother stood with them proudly, her mother beaming even as she dashed away happy tears, and both King David and Liam chests puffed with pride at how far the two young people they loved most had come. 

It was the beginning of something special, another True Love Story for the ages. A happily ever after if ever there was one. And all of those gathered to witness the kiss they shared after Killian placed the ring on the Princess’ finger agreed that no two people could cherish it more. 

Tagging a few who might be interested: @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines

@spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @jonesfandomfanatic @myfearless-love

@anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @stahlop @eastwesthomeisbest @motherkatereloyshipper

@belovedcreation @goforlaunchcee @laianely @undercaffinatednightmare @caught-in-the-filter @4getfulimaginator2022

@gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @resident-of-storybrooke @scientificapricot

@xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @grimmswan @ultraluckycatnd

@ohmakemeahercules @everything-person @kday426 @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly

[st-hedge]

Cleaned up the sketch of these dinkdonks a little bit. The names have stuck with me so the weirdo on the left is definitely Ono and on the right is Yudai. I still don’t know about the fox thing but calling it Mikan like the orange is pretty fuckin cute

[sysig]

Cards 👏 cards 👏 cards 👏 (Patreon)

[rxttenfish]

Thanks for opening my eyes to Miravi as a ship, it’s one I never would’ve even thought of but once I started thinking about it… yeah. Yeah!!!! It makes so much sense! Two tropey girls, a tragic princess and her conflicted knight in shining armour! I can’t help it, I’m a sucker for that…. (this might be why I always play as Vicky in MP…. because when I romance Miri my queen…. the polaroid is them as a knight and a princess….)

I love how you characterise them a bunch. I love that they can be two dorks together. Two nerds who love talking to and listening to each other. Two people who can heal together. Happy times for the both of them <33

thanks!! i still recall that this ship came mostly by accident to me, and honestly it was a damn fortunate accident at that because they work AMAZINGLY together. i really do like picking ships by virtue of personality and how well those personalities would mesh together, and don't like ships where that isn't directly considered, which, to be fair, i did at first think the two would probably dislike or hate each other! but i ended up thinking about it more and how the two might actually interact, and, honestly? the way they come off to me has always been that, if they can just get over that initial hump, they're WONDERFUL for each other.

i just like the way they parallel each other. both clinging to what they were told they are for their entire lives, something given to them by family and whom they had little choice in, but which they threw themselves into with a passion simply because they had nothing else they thought they could be. both with nasty, tangled histories, upholding systems which exist to eat the world and themselves simply serving as the last victims of it, neither able to fully question their role in it due to how much has been invested, how much would be lost if they had to put it aside. both with ringing alarm bells of psychological distress of all of this, that they cannot hear because they were never taught they were alarm bells, seeking out something that's close enough to what they were told they're supposed to be but without the teeth, without the fear, without the alarm bells. both rejected by their own systems by virtue of some flaw that isn't really a flaw, a fault that has marked them as unable to live up to their own myths. both only really able to come to any terms about all of this when they have other people, people who aren't a part of that system, people who they can depend on and trust, to start pointing it out and offering alternatives.

it's good! i like when two characters' journeys are really one journey, one path together, when they're in the same boat and just haven't realized it yet. i like it when they realize it, when they can finally start talking about it, finding solidarity in, yeah, actually, this IS bullshit, and why would someone do that to them. i like it when they're a conversation with each other, a mirror through which the other can be dismantled and picked apart and seen for what it is, when both act to lay the other out plain, when only the both of them can see the other for who they truly are.

and i like when it gives characters that are all high octane and presence and tension, just some downtime together. i like it when they can finally take off all that they drape themselves in, and just sit there together, vulnerable and exposed. i like how much they talk and have to say to each other, but i like how much they don't talk to each other as well, how much they can just exist in the silence together because the words aren't necessary. i like it when two characters being vulnerable with each other first feels like strangulation, and then, release.

[youredyingthatsallthereis]

simon the harrowed watching simon riley degrade further into insanity and when hunter gary sanderson shows up in the nightmare he warns him to watch out for a skull masked hunter annihilating anyone who gets near him with a beasthunter saif

warnings of “in another lifetime maybe he could have been your ally…but i doubt someone as far gone as he is can be reasoned with anymore” doesn’t stop sanderson from trying; he didn’t get the nickname roach for giving up easily

even as riley tries to obliterate him with the deadly precision of a practiced hunter coupled with the unhinged blood lust of a hunter intoxicated by the hunt sanderson keeps fighting back until he has riley flat on his back, his threaded cane pressed down tight on riley's throat to keep him still, looking into the covered eyes of the unhinged man that he knows can still see him, quietly reminding him of the hunt he abandoned before he gave in to his clear grief and agony; telling him they can take on ludwig together, take the research hall and the astral clocktower together, free the poor wizened child from his suffering together, if only riley would come back to himself, remember who he is and his purpose as a hunter; they could transcend the hunt together, gain true insight together, if only riley would remember who he was and could still be

[singingabouthedarktimes]

okay they have given me the check that pays for my travel to this conference so it's all downhill from here

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

underrated how laios finds shuros inability to communicate in a manner comprehensible to other human beings kind of exhausting and annoying