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bunni-v1 · 3 hours ago

Note

I just saw the teasing, but shy / brat taming story. Can I request kinda similar but kinda opposite, MC who is shy and likes to tease but is actually a good girl? 🧡

I personally like to tease, I love seeing them start to lose it because they start to get so turned on but they know they can't do anything about it. (Not in an angry way tho, if that makes sense?) But I'm also very much a good girl, while I very slightly might test boundaries, I live to please. I don't see many stories for us good girls, (also pillow princess stories are quite rare) so if you feel comfortable, I would love to see this version also. 😄

Such a Good Girl~

Necessary marc tag: @cilomarc

🍓I saw this and IMMEDIATELY started brainstorming. Other than when I was writing Cookie Run, this is the fastest I've gotten to a request. Now, It might've taken me a little longer than I wanted to get it done... but shut up. Now I'm not sure how loyal I was to the prompt, I kinda just... got lost while writing. Still, I do hope that it's what you were looking for my love <3

TW: Brat tamer Zayne & Sylus; Mean Xavier; Oral Receiving (Rafayel) & Giving (Caleb); Use of "Good Girl"; BLATANT Caleb favoritism; Grammar Errors

Info: NSFW; Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb x Reader (separate); Short drabbles

Total Word Count: 6.2k words (individual count listed with character)

MDNI

ZAYNE (1.2k Words)

You don't even remember what you did to get yourself in the position in the first place. Well, you do, but you felt too lightheaded to think about it now. Zayne had you pressed close to his chest, head resting on his shoulder, and dick nice and snug inside your tight little hole. There was a pressure deep in your stomach that couldn't be relieved without movement, but he refused you the option, hands stilling your hips when they wiggled even a fraction.

Maybe, coming into Zayne's office during work hours in his favorite skirt wasn't the greatest idea you'd had. He was only so patient, especially when it came to you and your teasing. He let you play dumb for a little while, because it made you happy, and it's not like he didn't enjoy seeing the soft curve of your ass in the tight fabric as you waltzed around. It was almost cute the way you played dumb, like you didn't notice the way his eyes trailed after you and his pen stilled occasionally to observe you.

It was only meant to be a cute little game between the two of you, one you didn't expect to yield the results it did. But when he beckoned you over, pulling you between his legs by your hips, your fate was sealed. He had his usual calm expression, but his eyes were alight with need, drinking you in with each rove over your curves. The hands on your hips slid down to your thighs, then back up again, feeling the expanse of soft flesh as if it were his personal comfort.

His eyes find yours when he finally speaks, "Is there a reason you chose this skirt today?"

A little smile crawls up your face, almost shyly, "I thought you might like it."

His eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, lifting his chin just slightly in affirmation. His fingers pull you closer by the backs of your thighs, drumming up and up until they rest atop your butt. It's not a science to tell that he's very pleased with your answer, no need for a rigorous degree to read him, he spells it out for you without needing to be asked.

"I do," he hums, kneading your cheeks in his hands, "Were you hoping for a reward?"

Direct and to the point as always, you couldn't hide from him. There was no attempt with the way you flustered, eyes flitting around nervously while you nodded your answer. Far too cute, if you asked him. He tapped your bottom, and like a trained dog, you looked back at him with fluttering lashes.

"If you can be nice and patient, I'll give you what you want," he hums, tilting his head so the light catches in his eyes just so, "You can do that for me, can't you?"

And that's how you'd ended up throwing your legs on either side of him and curling into his neck like a lifeline. You'd cock warmed him before, it wasn't a challenge to sit still and let him work. The stagnant pleasure was something you had come to enjoy, an intimacy that set butterflies free in your stomach every time he offered for you to do it. What was difficult to deal with, though, was the tension in built in your head.

You knew how your night would end, obviously. The issue lay in not knowing when Zayne believed the reward awaiting you was earned. You were always his good girl; you knew you were so well behaved, he told you all the time. There was simply no measure that could properly count when you had behaved well enough for your treat. That was up to Zayne to decide, and it could span from minutes to hours of waiting. That was the fun of it, though.

He would tap his fingers along your sides when the time was getting closer. Physical affection and comfort pick up, as a little warning. You think it's mostly subconscious, more for himself than it was for you. Fingers slide up and down your spine, kisses pressed to the side of your face in reassurance, or arms pulling you just a little closer.

Your nerves jitter in excitement when he sets his pen down, the soft shuffle of papers being moved out of the way, the most exciting sound in the world. Gentle hands pull your face into view, stroking over your warm cheeks as an apology for making you wait so long. You smile at him, leaning into his hands, craving that skin-to-skin contact more than you'd realized.

"You want to move, don't you?" He asks, though it comes out as more of a statement.

Adamantly, your head bobs up and down, "Yes, Sir."

He hums, copying your nodding, "Go ahead then, you've earned it."

Not needing to be told twice, you use his shoulders as leverage to bounce yourself up and down in his lap. Slow and steady motions to start, dragging his length along your walls, taking in each inch of pleasure with delight. All the while, he watches you, making sure you behave like you're meant to. Both of you know you will, you'd never do anything to purposely upset him, but the thought of him watching for little slip-ups gets the heat boiling beneath your skin.

His hands rest on your hips, not helping, just resting patiently. Just in case. You try not to think too hard about it, focusing in on the task you were given. Taking in the comforting feeling of him buried deep inside you, dragging along your walls like he was made to be there. The pleasant squelching sounds filling up his normally quiet office, encouraging you to keep going even though your legs start to burn.

His head leans back, getting more comfortable in his chair, content just watching you use him. His hands squeeze in patterned intervals to further encourage you to chase your high. Quiet, watchful, and entirely taken with you. The flush on his cheeks was more than enough to signal that you were performing exactly as he wanted; there was no need to vocally pronounce it when he made it so obvious to you. Heated gaze committing every little shift in expression to memory, utterly obsessed with the way you fall apart so obediently.

And fall apart you do, movements quickly becoming sloppy. It's too difficult to raise your hips in the same motion over and over, so you've taken to rolling them instead. Your orgasm is quickly building, coiling up your spine and fuzzing up your brain deliciously. You can't cum without permission, though. You don't want to misbehave and face punishment. Luckily, Zayne knows you too well, sensing your need from the way your hips seem to stutter and how you clench in uneven patterns now.

One hand cradles your chin between loving fingers, tilting your face toward his. Those sinful green eyes glimmer with knowing, looking over your flushed face like reading a report. The smallest smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, head tilting to the side in a teasing motion.

"You want to cum?" He hums expectantly, and when you nod he continues, "Go on then, be good, cum for me."

And like magic, like your body has been trained to listen, that coil springs and snaps pleasure through your body. Your orgasm draws a long, low moan from your lips, your body falling forward against his shoulder. Despite the way it tingles from the intensity of the pleasure curling along every nerve, you feel the unmistakable gentle rub of practiced hands along your spine. Coaxing your body to relax into him, easing the heat encasing you just enough to keep you lucid.

Your reward for being so good for him.

XAVIER (1.2k Words)

Xavier loves the way you like to play with him - it's cute how you tentatively poke at him, then hide away the second he questions you. It's a little game he likes to play with you: play dumb and see how far you'll let yourself get before you self-correct your behavior. He doesn't even have to do anything; you give yourself up for him every single time with a flutter of your lashes and a pout.

Just like today, you were testing your limits again, and he was happily playing oblivious. It started with some poking to his cheek and his side, annoying, but nothing he wasn't used to. The way you lit up when he hummed in acknowledgement set a chill down his spine. You didn't stop there, eventually letting your cute little innocent poking evolve into firm grasps. Nowhere too risqué, on his arms or holding his waist as though that was where your hands belonged.

He'd slid his hand over yours at that point, quietly warning you that he was on to you. Not to negate, just to tell, a reminder of who was in charge of whom. You took it as an invitation and worked yourself up to more teasing touches. Featherlight as your hand grazed over his chest and above his thighs, still too good to push further than that. Your intention was clear without needing to go further, though, and it brought Xavier great excitement to see how you shrank back from giving in to your wants.

You didn't have to worry about it, and you knew that fact. Xavier was ready to hand it over to you on a silver platter, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It came when your fingers strayed just a little too high up his thigh, not intentionally, but the perfect excuse to grab them firmly. Bringing the hand to his lips, kissing their tips with such devotion, you nearly forget that he'd caught you in the act. Those pretty blue puppy dog eyes darken slightly when he gazes at you, intent clear as day in their sparkle.

"You've been quite playful today, starlight," He mumbles against your skin, "Are you hoping for something from me?"

You fluster immediately, just like he expected you to, because you're so scared of being bad for him. You hate it when he's mad, so you nod obediently. His other hand tilts your head gently, as if it's a suggestion of movement rather than a command. You listen regardless, moving your face as he likes, swallowing when his thumb grazes over your lip. He watches your tongue dart out after it, like you were trying to get a taste of what he left behind. That makes him more of a mess than he'd be willing to admit, breath shaking with his next exhale.

"Don't worry about telling me," He says, moving forward in a swift motion, pressing you to the couch cushions easily, "I already know what you need, just behave and I'll give it to you, okay?"

Another helpless nod, and he is hovering over you like a predator who'd just caught his prey. Sliding your clothes out of his way, not bothering to take anything off fully, far too preoccupied to care about such a trivial matter now. He only makes sure you're wet enough before he pushes inside your tight heat. It takes all his self-control not to moan out loud, mouth finding your neck to distract his brain with a different task for the moment.

He laves at the skin there, soft tongue sending shivers down your spine as it runs along the sensitive spots he's able to find like second nature. He works his way up to the shell of your ear, nipping and kissing along your jaw, buying time for your world to stop spinning before he sends it out of orbit again. You can feel the satisfied smirk against your ear, whining when the ghost of his teeth nibble along it.

"You're already so wet, you took me with no problem," He whispers, wiggling against you for emphasis, "You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you? How naughty, here I thought you were so well behaved."

You tug at his shirt, letting out an annoyed whine. Insistent, defiant, denying the idea that you had misbehaved. You hadn't, after all, he let you do all of it after all. He smiles, pulling back to look at your angry little pout.

"No?" He hums, and you confirm with a nod, "You think you're a good girl?"

You agree, vigorously nodding your head so hard he worries you might give yourself whiplash. Your angry pout makes him want to kiss you stupid, but he holds back on that. Only good girls get that treatment, and he wasn't so sure you'd earned the title yet. Instead, he presses his face close, just a hair's width away. Refusing to kiss you, but allowing you to desire it enough that he can see the need on your face.

"Why don't you prove it, then," He asks, rolling his hips once, "if you cum for me, maybe I'll reconsider my judgment."

With that, he begins his movements, sending your head spinning yet again with the pace he sets. Never one to waste time when he had you laid out so openly beneath him, he pistons himself into your wet heat at a steady but quick rhythm. Each drag manages to hit each spot against your spongy walls perfectly, getting you dizzy within moments of him starting. Your grip on his shirt tightens, using the fabric as a means of bracing yourself against the warmth spreading across your body.

It doesn't do anything for how quickly he manages to get you babbling, knowing your body better than you do. Those deep blue eyes watching you submit yourself willingly, knowing well that you would before he started. You always behaved so well for him; he just liked making you work for his praise. The angry expressions as you fought his accusations off, making him stupidly hot and bothered. Making the way your face absolutely scrunched up and losing itself to the heat of the moment all the more satisfying.

It doesn't take you long to reach your peak, not with how easily he works your body like this. Knowing exactly how to move his hips for you, like it was instinct to get you to fall apart on him. You cry out his name, fingers balling the fabric of his shirt like it would help you somehow. Cute, cute, cute sings inside his head, over and over, like he was losing his mind. He sees the moment the invisible thread in you snaps, and feels it as you grip around him as though trying to drag him down with you.

Instinctively, he comes down to kiss you, giving you your just rewards for being so good for him. The gentle reprieve he gives you makes it all worth it, though.

Mumbling against your moans his soft praises, "Good girl, keep going, give me all you can."

RAFAYEL (1k Words)

The only thing in the world Rafayel likes more than you is your attention. Knowing you're looking at him, having the awareness that you are encapsulated by him makes him happier than he'd be willing to admit to you. Something about the reassurance that you are there, and that you find him as mesmerizing as he does you, helps to calm his raging heart. Quells the burning fire of his yearning to a low simmer, no longer consuming him whole, but warming him from the cold of memories that still haunt him.

That attention of yours was addicting, and you were simply unaware of the effect you had on him. Which is why he felt as though he'd been going through withdrawals all day, a notable lack of your eyes on him driving him nuts. Yes, you were busy and he was oh so understanding of that... but he could only take so much. It was getting to be unfair at this point.

First, you wouldn't let him pull you back into the sheets, scolding him about 'work' and 'responsibility'. You sounded like Thomas, but he didn't complain too much that time, content to watch you get ready; the show was compensation enough. Then, audaciously, you refused to send him any pictures. Wouldn't even amuse the lighthearted flirting, too busy running around being a hero to pause for him. What made it all worse, when you got home, you were 'too tired' and 'just wanted to eat and nap'.

Fine, okay, whatever. He'll make you a tasty, nutrient-full meal and cuddle you on the couch while you talked about your day. He doesn't bring it up again, wouldn't push you when you seem so genuinely exhausted. He can go without for you, he did it for hundreds of years, what's a day?

It's fine until you start to get restless, wiggling about this way and that and pressing into him very intentionally. It clicks when you glance over your shoulder, pouting expectantly. You'd tortured him on purpose, how mean.

He pulls you back, hooking his chin over your shoulder with a smug satisfaction. The ends of his hair tickle your cheek when he pulls you into a deep and insistent kiss, not allowing you the time to catch up. He goes until you're dizzy, wiping away the string of saliva connecting you with that familiar playful smile of his, then it drops.

Annoyance, and that pout you hate to love stare you down, "Tell me, Cutie, were you intent on torturing both of us today?"

You shake your head, ready to deny him, but it catches in your throat. He nudges your nose admonishingly, almost daring you to say no. You'd played your mean little game, and he obeyed your rules, it was time for his reward; And he would be getting it. No matter what.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, "I didn't think I'd get this far."

He huffs, like he doesn't believe you, tracing your lip with his thumb.

"Talk is useless. Why don't you show me how sorry you are?" He rumbles out, eyes darkening in his desire.

You drop to your knees like you were being mind-controlled, freeing him from the confines of his pants. He stands at attention, proud and aching for your pretty lips to wrap around him. It makes you feel worse for playing hard to get all day, knowing how he must've been so needy this whole time. Those observant eyes watch you with hardly restrained excitement, twinkling down at you encouragingly.

You slide your thumb over the tip, spreading the pearly pre over it. There's an obscene amount of it, proof of how long he'd been keeping himself together, dripping down your hand. Absent-mindedly, you lean down to lick it up from where it slides down your wrist, following it back to the source. Salty and a little bitter, you ignore the taste for the sheer satisfaction of making him feel good.

You lick up what you spread around, popping the tip in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. He curses your name like it were sin itself. Sensitive and desperate. You use it as motivation to take him in, inch by inch, until your throat tickles, then you pull back. Wrapping what you couldn't fit in your mouth with your hand, beginning languid motions back and forth. Sucking, swirling, pleasing him just how you know he likes.

You want to make it up to him, feeling so bad for teasing him the way you did. You really didn't mean any harm, but from how he was throbbing along your tongue, you know you did. Using your mouth to make it up to him was the least you could do. Apologizing with each hum you send along his shaft, sending your sorry directly through his nervous system.

A hand runs through your hair, scratching your scalp soothingly in reward. Not that you've earned it, but he can't be too mean when you're just so good for him. The prettiest sight he's ever seen, lips wrapped around him while you desperately try to keep eye contact between the fluttering of your lashes. All your attention was his now, and he was happy to hog it all unashamedly, just like you were to suck him off for hours.

He thought about letting you, he thinks you may even deserve the way your knees would sting after the fact, but he can't help but be weak for you. Not when he had a lot more he wanted to get done tonight. The gentlest tug is all it takes for you to pop off him, swallowing up air as though you'd been drowning. He smiles, wiping a little bit of spit running down your chin. His messy little masterpiece.

"You can take all of it, can't you?" He asks, and you nod in a daze, licking your lips.

He allows you to take him again, helping you take more and more down your throat until he's settled there like it's where he belongs. You breathe through your nose, face scrunched up in concentration, trying so hard to make it up to him. It's so charming, making his heart race and sending the blood right back to his dick.

It's not enough, though; he needs you to look at him.

"Cutie," he hums, and you look up at him, glassy-eyed and desperate for approval. He smirks, "Such a good, obedient girl for me, I think I can forgive you this once if you keep it up."

SYLUS (1.2k Words)

Sylus was a very busy man, something you knew intimately after being with him for so long. Frequently, he was off somewhere in the N109 Zone doing something that you were safer turning a blind eye to than asking about. You'd spend weeks at a time without seeing him, alone in your apartment as you worry needlessly about his well-being. He always came back in perfect condition, smirking at you as though your worry was some pointless thing, teasing you for how much you care.

Being with him was difficult, but ultimately worth it in the long run. The way he took care of you far outweighed the periods where you could not physically have him with you. Though... sexually... You felt your resolve waver just a bit.

You found yourself very pent up in the weeks that he was gone, and there was only so much your fingers or toys could do to satiate the heat that boiled in your tummy. Pictures and videos of your previous times together helped, but also made it worse at the same time. You just wanted him: his warmth, his touch, his taste. Devastatingly addictive, and you felt strung out without him at your side.

You'd send him pictures and videos, hoping he'd return the favor when he gets the chance. Sometimes he'd call you and talk you through it, cooing at you as though you were an insatiable kitty and not his very needy partner. Naturally, given your human nature, you can only handle so long before you start feeling petty.

Normally, you wouldn't deprive yourself when he comes home to you, whispering syrupy sweet words into your ear. Not this time. No, you wanted him to have a taste of how frustrated you would get. Since he seemed to find it oh so funny when you got all needy, let's see how he liked it.

You forgot how patient he was.

He could reasonably wait several millennia, and you were finding that out the hard way. He was a stone wall of impartialness; nothing could shake him, and within a week, you felt your resolve rapidly crumbling. He knew this, of course, he always knew. Yet, he let you play your game without a peep. It only made you more infuriated, need burning in your stomach every time you looked at him, trapped in a prison of your design.

You give in a week and three days into your little facade, frustrated and pent up, and by Astra needing him to do anything for you. He looks up at you like he was expecting your arrival at his office door. You're not aware of the cute little pout on your face, nor the way you nervously fiddle with the hems of his oversized shirt sleeves. And, goodness, he questions himself on how he could possibly hold out for so long when you're just so radiant.

You stop short of his desk, positioning yourself with arms crossed as you glare at him. He regards you with a tilt of his head, leaning back in his chair like a king on his throne. It's not meant to be intimidating, but it sends a chill up your spine. Fuck he was unfairly sexy, wasn't he? How could you purposely ignore him for some stupid petty pride?

You take a deep breath, sighing out your apology, "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" He hums, amusement thickening his voice.

"For avoiding you," you continue, stepping forward like owning up to it, "I was just..."

"Frustrated?" He finishes for you.

In a ridiculously smooth movement, he stands, walks to your side, and gently guides you to his couch. You are lying down across his lap, head propped up by a pillow against the arm, looking up at him with wonder. A large hand rests on your thigh, sliding your skirt to pool around your waist as you prop your knees up. Fingers stop just short of the apex of your thigh, tapping patiently along the soft skin there instead.

"It must be so difficult, being without me for so long," he purrs, "I can only imagine so, since you thought to play such a silly game with me."

You frown, resisting the urge to clench your thighs, "I just wanted you to feel how frustrated I was."

"You think I don't miss you when I'm away?" He scoffs, rolling his eyes like it was an offensive thought.

"Not as much as I miss you," you spit back.

He releases a huff of a laugh, squeezing your thigh, and you realize too late you've fallen into his trap, "Oh really? I suppose not, then. Tell me, though, what exactly do you do when you miss me?"

He knows what you do, of course, and he takes great pleasure in the videos you send. That does not stop him from quickly dipping his fingers into your underwear, finding the wetness pooling there pleasing, "Do you touch yourself like this?"

His fingers, long and slender and precise, swirl over your clit in practiced motions. The movements seem sloppy, but it's far from unintentional. He's mocking you, discarding his usual smoothness for how he imagines your fingers might play with the needy bud. It's annoyingly accurate, which is why you melt so easily. You missed his touch so badly, unable to move your fingers in the same way he can, far less precise and sure of yourself.

You nod, swallowing hard, "I can't touch myself like you do."

"Poor little kitten," he soothes, mercifully correcting his motions to the tight circles you missed, "Don't worry, I'm here now. I'll touch you as much as you want."

Flimsily, you grab his tie, giving it a gentle tug, "Kiss me, please."

He doesn't waste any time in giving in to your commands, lips finding yours in a slow and passionate kiss that gets you sighing. You had missed him so badly, you were so needy, and now he was kissing you like you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. Your little game was stupid anyway, the pettiness melting to make way for your desire to please and be pleased.

You moan into his mouth when his fingers dip into your heat, dragging along your walls, reaching far deeper than you could've dreamed. He's skilled with his movements, curling them along the most sensitive spots he'd taken time to memorize. Somehow, knowing your body better than you do. Which is why it's no surprise you cum quickly, orgasm coming without warning and leaving you breathless against his lips.

He's muttering your praises, 'very good', 'that's it', 'perfect', and it only makes you more hazy. How he could be so sweet to you after you were so stupid was beyond you, but you didn't want him to stop. He doesn't, intrinsically knowing what you need without voicing it, and soon you are working through your second consecutive orgasm. Then your third, until you are finally coming down from your high with his steadfast praises ringing through your mind.

"Thank you," you mumble.

"Thank you," He answers, pressing a soft kiss to your nose.

CALEB (1.6k Words)

You didn't mean to tease him, honestly. It was innocent. It was always something innocent... until it wasn't. Until you managed to push enough that he decided it wasn't, because there was no way he was rock hard over some harmless little antics of yours. Or, maybe it was the fact that it was so innocent that got him so hot and bothered.

As much as he loathes to admit it, he gets a kick out of defiling you. You call it a kink, he calls it human nature (only for him, though, forbid another man thinks about the things he does.) Regardless, you tease him without meaning to all the time. The comfortableness you feel with each other allows your walls to come down, and unintentionally make something else of his rise. It was a good thing to be so comfortable with your partner, after all, you'd insist. Not realizing what seeing you in nothing but his oversized t-shirt did to his mind.

It drove him wild the way your completely harmless antics managed to 'wake him up' so to speak. He felt like a helpless virgin, which... he sort of was before you, but he figured he'd grow out of that phase eventually. Feels like it only got worse with time, and yet he wouldn't trade it for the world. Content to spend the rest of his days blue balling himself so long as he gets to live that sweet domestic bliss with you.

Currently, you are in the kitchen, working on the breakfast you'd insisted on making for him. Sweet as it was, Caleb was never really one to accept your acts of service without a fight, preferring to be the provider. It was a fight to get him to sit down and relax for once; one of his scarce days off should be spent decompressing, letting you treat him for once. He sat on the couch watching the news for all of ten minutes before he got annoyed and wandered to the kitchen.

He knew better than to get in your space, so he leaned against the doorframe, watching you with a glower. It softens when you send a smirk over your shoulder, brushing off his pouting effortlessly as you glide around his kitchen. It was too cute a sight to stay mad, anyway. His old t-shirt - the one he got from his high school honors program that he couldn't fit into anymore - hardly covers your ass, giving him just the smallest glimpse of your panties each time you reached up or shifted just right.

You shift from foot to foot as you work on the pancakes - apple cinnamon, his own recipe, of course. Hair pulled away so he could see the evidence of your late-night activities peek from just beneath the collar of his shirt. If that wasn't enough to send him into a catatonic state of domesticity, you would look at him every few moments, like you were waiting for him to do something. Sultry little pout tossed over your shoulder, gliding over his bare chest, just over the dick print in his grey sweats, then turning around like you weren't being the biggest tease in the world.

Normally, Caleb would let it slide. Normally, he'd roll off your teasing with a bright smile and a halfhearted scolding. Normally, he had somewhere to be in the morning, so he couldn't afford to give in. Today was not a normal day. Today was a rest day, and what better way to rest than indulging in all the desires he'd purposefully pushed off until now?

He cages you between his arms when you look away, moving a fluffy pancake to the plate set next to you. They looked perfect; you'd followed his recipe exactly. Too bad he wasn't craving pancakes right now, and judging from the way you giggle when his lips graze your shoulder, you weren't either.

"Feeling hungry?" You laugh, reaching a hand back to scratch the base of his skull like he was an overgrown mutt.

One of his hands slides to turn off the stove, then wraps around your hip, pressing you back into his crotch. You feel how hungry he is, poking at your buttocks through the minimal layers of clothing both of you are wearing. Open-mouthed kisses across all exposed flesh he could reach further incriminate him, urging you to give in.

"Starving," he groans.

"Well then," you hum, turning to face him - he doesn't leave your skin for a moment, moving with you, "dig in."

He moans, lifting you up to the counter with a swift heft, spreading you out pretty for him. His lips trace down the fabric of his shirt while his fingers inch it up over your hips, humming satisfied when they find skin to ravish again. He makes a fast trail to your clothed entrance, pressing his nose to the wet fabric and taking a deep whiff. Another groan grumbles out of his chest, and in another moment, he's licking along the slick staining the fabric.

You both moan at the sensation, Caleb's muffled by you and you by your hand. He tugs you closer, tossing your legs over his shoulders, surrounding himself with your thighs. No escape, not that he had any intention of leaving. He looks up at you, smiling when he notices how you try to hide, eyes darting around the room like that would help you.

Gently, he takes the hand covering your mouth, settling it firmly on his head. He doesn't let go of your wrist until you weave the soft locks through your fingers, scratching at his scalp just like you had earlier. You get an encouraging little smile for it, a soft kiss pressed to your thigh as a reward. His other hand tucking your panties to the side, revealing your hot sticky cunt to him. You clench reflexively when he licks his lips, amethyst eyes finding yours again as he spreads your lips.

Slowly, deliberately, without breaking eye contact, he leans down and kisses your clit. Your mouth falls open because that might just be the hottest thing you've ever seen in your life. You think you might need a million pictures of the way he looks at you as his lips pucker against the sensitive bud. Unfortunately, you don't get to stare at it for too long, as Caleb is as insatiable as he is in love with you. Eyes falling closed as he brings his tongue across your folds, lapping the juices there up like a thirsty dog.

Your fingers curl tightly into his scalp at the sensation, pressing him closer with a pathetic noise. Somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, addicting to a man like Caleb. His mouth dips down to your entrance, a loud slurping ringing in your ears as he drinks up the juices that leaked out from your needy hole. Tongue working in steady rolls, still not quite experienced, but moving exactly like you needed him to. Your clit does not go neglected, nose nudging against it with his eager movements. His head bobbing excitedly with each shameless slurp, and he really does remind you of a dog like this.

When his tongue plunges as deep as he can get it, you whine out his name, thighs clenching around his head. It slides in far too easily, like it was made to be there, which certainly does something for his ego. You lock your feet behind his back, trying to roll your hips into his uneven rhythm with little success. Not that he needed the help, you were already tumbling over the edge when you lifted your hips the first time. Fucking yourself against his face, elongating your orgasm for as long as he allows you to. And he allows you to for a while, long enough that he's able to force a second one out of you in your frenzy.

Only when you slam your head against the cupboard does he force himself back, concern overpowering his need to eat you out until you can't speak. You whine at him, trying to force him back down, but he isn't having it as he checks you over. He laughs at you when he decides that you're fine, pinching your cheek like you were a petulant child and not his very overstimulated, needy girlfriend.

"You want more? You already came twice, pips." He laughs, pressing a wet kiss to your forehead.

Instead of responding, you press your foot to his hard on, taking great satisfaction at the way he hisses. He catches you by your ankle, tugging your legs open so he can stand between them again. You pull him into a heated kiss, scooting dangerously close to the edge of the counter so you can press into him. You feel his resolve crack instantly, kissing you back like you were the very oxygen he needed to breathe.

"I need you inside, please," you murmur into the desperate dance of lips on lips.

Without argument, he tugs himself out of his sweats, pressing himself against your heat, "Since you've been so good, I think I can be nice, just this once."

You gasp as the tip slides between your folds, lubricating himself up with a few thrusts, then sliding into your desperate hole with little resistance. The stretch is accompanied by low whispers in your ear, cooing and coaxing you, "Goooood girl, that's right, you take it so well," and "Breathe, princess, I've got you."

By the time you're done with each other, the pancakes are freezing cold, and Caleb decides it's time to start lunch instead. He's cooking this time.

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bokettochild · 12 hours ago

Note

Do you have some hcs for Legend? I'd love to hear your thoughts on him :)

So, so many of them!

he's far-sighted! Due to a lot of adventuring and focusing on the far away stuff, he's actually trained his eyes to always be focused on far away things, and so now he struggles to see things clearly close up. he has specticals for it (Impa took him to get some when they were in Labrynna together) but he rarely remembers to wear them, and doesn't like to out on the road to begin with, as he's worried they'll break. he tends to forget he's wearing them when at his house though, so Ravio's really the only one who sees him wear them more than he sees him without them.

he's totally a bit of a history nerd, because I said so. It was more just stories when he was little, but between frequently interacting with ancient artifacts and architecture, as well as time traveling himself, Legend's become somewhat fascinated with history. he likes having all the answers (as most Links do) but for him, that includes knowing where things came from, why they were made, and so on

he's also a horse girl, much like Twilight and Warriors, but doesn't travel with a mount because it's less convenient. While having a mount in a Zelda game DOES make avoiding foes much easier, it also gets frustrating when you have to go find them again after doing however many things (point in case, my BotW horses are scattered to the four winds All The Time). Legend, who frequently is getting up and dropped in random places, doesn't like that this would leave any of his mounts alone in the middle of nowhere and thus doesn't take his own horse many places as a result. Said horse is Puini (OoA manga) and is currently housed either at the castle or with his grandparents (OoS manga). He dotes on her exceedingly, and being around Epona now reminds him of her a lot. Being as she's a literal war horse though (trained for battle with a knight) he has an inkling she would't quite like the mares of the rest of his brothers and leaves her out of the conversation when they bring up mounts

he's the OPPOSITE of someone with claustephobia! I have this fic I'm writing in my head right now where the boys finish their adventure just to get collectively dropped at Lon Lon with no way home, and have to adapt to "normal" life. A chapter of said fic (if I write it) would likely focus on the fact that Legend literally grew up in dungeons, like, his games have the most dungeons of all the Zelda games, as well as some of the biggest focus on dungeons, and as a result, they likely feel more familiar to him than the open world (and oddly safer, since they're predictable and follow Rules that the outside world doesn't have). I like to think that small, narrow, dark places would actually be soothing for him, to the point that, in the theoretical fic, it freaks the rest out when they find out he keeps purposefully climbing into dried up wells for some space when he's homesick. Maybe it's the inner bunny instincts, maybe it's a pre-existing trait that influenced the magic that made him a bunny to begin with, but Legend tends to burrow, and feels safest when he's in smaller, darker places.

He loves puzzles. I think it was Squido who said that we should let the boys enjoy their adventures, no? Let them look back fondly and smile at some things? For Legend, I think the thing he loved most about adventures with the problem solving, and puzzles are the best sorts of problems because you're guaranteed that there IS an answer. So, for someone who grew up doing puzzles most of his life (dungeons), they're a familiar thing for him and a challenge for him to face without actually endangering himself. he likes mind puzzles and logic puzzles mainly, but picture puzzles are fun too for him

Apple snob. He knows all the apple types, probably bred two of his own apple breeds somewhere in his life, and he has opinions on all of them

Nature boy. Not like Wild and Hyrule who like to get lost in it, no, Legend just likes existing in nature. He grew up on Orchard Hill, so gardening and husbandry are something he was raised to before the hero shtick, and he finds a certain sort of peace in gardening/plants. Also, he travels a lot, so he spends a lot of time by himself out of doors. Granted, that's also where a lot of the bad stuff happens to him, but the good outweighs the bad and I think he genuinely would love to go hiking or do nature walk sorts of things if adventure didn't scoop him up every time he left the house

Really big dancer. Mostly because of Din, partially because of Marin, and Cadence definitely had an influence too. Unfortunately, his mental metronome is set to the music pulse of Octavio's magic so he sort of just...can't keep a beat well without a lot of time to adjust. Once he's got it though he's killer

He can play a lot of instruments, but I really like the idea that the violin is his favorite. yes, he's got that precious ocarina from the dream world, and he learned to play one of those first, but like the idea that Uncle Aflon or maybe one of his friends was a violinist, and Legend just got dead set as a kid on that particular instrument. It's also a very diverse and emotional instrument, which grants him a lot of freedom of expression he'd usually not allow himself

He didn't speak his first word until he was four. Uncle Aflon kind of accepted early on that he might be mute, but as it happened, he just didn't feel the need to use words to communicate, since what he wanted was either always evident or could be figured out without him having to speak much. I think he was likely either mostly silent as a child, using mainly sign or other nonverbal communications, but if you want to make it angsty, I also like to say that it could be because his throat got messed up by an illness he had when he was very small so talking was painful for him. I HC that that changed after he traveled to Labrynna, because the memaid's curse didn't just give him a tail, but also effected/altered his voice, making speech easier for him but also making it to where he can actually cham people with his voice if he's not careful (which perhaps contributed to him becoming a harsher spoken person because then the charm is less likely to slip through on accident if he's being a jerk)

Continuing the speech HCs, I think Legend's tendency towards speech is impacted heavily by wo he's around. if it's anyone he met prior to Labrynna, or in Labrynna, he defaults to mostly sign, whereas if he met them after, he tends to usually use spoken words

Legend' far more expressive and open with sign language, as tone is very important and easier to navigate for him. In essence, it is his first language and the one he's most comfortable with

That said, with people he's truly comfortable with, legend's just straight up non-verbal. he doesn't feel the need to speak and usually just uses facial expressions and exaggerated motions to express himself. Being able to shut down the speech center of his brain for a bit is a huge relief and since those he knows well know how to read him just fine like that, it doesn't make much of a difference either way

As y'all know, I champion the Fable and Legend are siblings HC, though I know it's neither cannon, nor likely to be cannon in LU (pretty sure JoJo confirmed it's not true). Still, I really really like the twins thing!

On the note of being twins! You know how sometimes, with twins, one comes out stronger than the other? Yeah, that was Fable. Legend's actually the smaller/weaker twin, though not by much. he was a very sickly baby though. Oddly enough though, despite being physically weaker than his sister, he actually got the stronger of the magic between the two of them! It might even be possible that the strength of his magic might have been the reason his body is weaker; because housing that much power can put a significant strain on a body. Either way, Fable and he joke about it frequently, saying that as he's got stronger Holy magic, he should have been the princess, and since she's physically stronger, she should be the one with the sword. He doesn't mean it though, and is only playing along. Fable kinda sorta really does mean it though)

It's less focused on by the fandom as a whole, but in case you didn't know: Legend is more than just a polyglot! In his games alone, we see that he can hear and understand not only most trees (not just guardian trees like the Deku and Maku trees, but the normal ones around Kakariko too), but also animals, spirits, and literally forces of nature! Heck, the literal SEASONS coo about how adorable he is when you meet them in OoS! That said, I think he learned pretty early on that this isn't normal. Uncle started getting really worried when he saw and heard Legend speaking to what seemed to be thin air on multiple occasions, so he learned to just not answer unless there aren't other humans/hylians around

Continuing the previous one, this does mean that Legend has to frequently resist asking for directions from various passing by birds and animals, and instead just bites his tongue and lets Twilight go off scouting because explaining that he can hear voices no one else can hear is just....ot the best of ideas

Despite the rest of the heroes' being under the impression that Legend was an only child, he actually has Middle Child energy. this is because he grew up with Fable, Ralph, the Oracles, and Ghanti bossing him around/messing with him, but he also helps look after his neighbor Gully, who I fully believe he loves the same way that Wind loves Aryll.

While I have Gully on the mind, I think Smith and his wife have mentally adopted Legend and all but see him as their eldest, since Bertha (Smith's wife), also had a hand in helping Aflon, newly appointed caretaker to an infant he knows nothing about minding, with learning about babies. Legend however, dense as he is, still fully believes they just put up with him for their actual son's sake, since Gully clearly adores him so much

This shows up a lot in my fics, but I like the idea that Legend loves the stars. Like, tehy're the same, always there, no matter where you go. he's traveled a lot and been tossed into random locations where everything is different, yet whenever he looks up, there the stars are, the same as always, just from a different angle. I think Uncle Aflon taught him the various constellations when he was small, and maybe when Legend was lonely in his adventures he started talking to them like they could hear them (and heck, if the seasons can hold a conversation, then why couldn't the stars?). Also, you know the thing about how if you're deep enough underground and you look up through a hole you can see the sky? Yeah, he's more used to night skies and stars than sunlight

Despite being a traveler, he's actually got a palish complexion for his skin tone, since he spends most of his time underground. He's also a bit sensitive to sunlight all around and gets a headache fairly quickly when he's out in it. He hates noon time and would rather be sleeping than awake when the suns at its zenith

I've seen this one around a bit, but I really love the idea that legend enjoys wearing his uncle's old clothes around the house when he's between adventures. he probably keeps Uncle's pipe tobacco and other things stored with the clothes so they still smell like him even after all these years

He's entirely unaware of the fact that being on regular speaking terms with the Golden Goddesses, the Fates, the Seasons, the freaking Triforce, and most royalty is uncommon for a hero. He's aware most people don't do it, but it's sort of jarring for him when he realizes that the other heroes' dealings are limited to mostly mortals, and lowly ones at that, and that when they do speak of the goddesses, it's usually with some sort of reverence. Meanwhile Legend will and has insulted Din to her face for picking on him about his height, gossips with Farore whenever they run into each other, and the only one he kinda treats with reservation/respect is Nayru because they sort of faught each other that one time and while it wasn't her faught, it still makes things a bit awkward at times

He tends to chew on things when he's restless/agitated. He's not even aware he's doing it half the time, and has chewed his sleeves, hair, and various tools at different times. The Chain have designated bowls (Sky got bored) and his has very clear signs of gnawing around the edges. Same with any wooden spoons he's given (although, being as Uncle raised him with manners, Legend does carry his own silverware at all times, and thus rarely needs to borrow from others (it's a medieval manners thing))

Unlike the stereotype of men when they're sick, Legend actually gets really quiet when he's sick. Hyrule's the same way and it's mostly to draw the least attention to themselves when they're not in fighting condition. Usually though, he tends to take the 'sleep through it' approach, which is really a very poor choice, but as far as he's concerned, it's worked until now so he's not changing it

I think Legend's a very physical person, someone who likes to be able to touch and feel various things, and generally enjoys the idea of physical affection, but in reality balks at it because it usually catches him off guard. That said, he do be touching all the stuff and animals.

Gets weird about dodongos. he knows that the majority of them are threats, but there's always a part of him that wonders if some of them are like Dimitri, and it can be tricky for him to fight them at times

The early Zelda games are sort of wack honestly, but the fact that he's technically a telepath gets brushed aside way too much, y'know? Like, Legend regularly has conversations with Zelda and Sahasralah from miles away, IN HIS HEAD, and only uses certain stones to strengthen that connection, not forge it to begin with! Now, he might just be receptive to telepathy, maybe it's a twin thing (I have a WIP about that) but I think it'd be really funny if he's just sitting on that little skill and never brings it up because linking up (lol) thoughts with someone can be very overwhelming when your brain is already moving a thousand miles a minute, and trying to process thoughts and feelings that aren't his own gives him a migraine. So he just.... doesn't. Unless Zelda reaches out first or he needs to tell her something important.

He's terrible about self care and remembering his own needs, but will, can, and does scold others for doing the same. He doesn't even care that he's a huge hypocrite, not much anyway

Magpie. Boy loves his shiny things. Like, he doesn't technically need everything he has, and he knows most of it will never be used, but if it's pretty he keeps it anyway

I feel like Legend'a also got a bit of food insecurity. When he was a kid, freshly thrust into his first adventure and with the kingdom turned against him, he didn't actually know how to find his own food and ended up going hungry a LOT during that first adventure (which might have stunted his growth a bit). Since then, he's made a point to not only educate himself on what's safe to eat and what's not, but he also taught himself how to preserve and prepare long lasting foods, which he keeps a huge stockpile of. He also doesn't trust any food he hasn't watched be prepared unless it's made by someone he trusts, and even then sometimes his anxiety/paranoia gets the better of him. There were a few neighbors who tried slipping something in the meals they gave him under the pretense of taking pity, when in reality they planned to turn him over to the knights, so he's always cautious now

He's actually less wary and guarded outside of Hyrule than he is inside of it. Lorule is an exception because it's a version of Hyrule, but any other country is used to a very different version of him because Legend isn't always suspecting foul play in other kingdoms who have nothing to gain from his death.

He cannot handle blood well. Yeah, he's a hero, yeah, he fights a lot, and yes, he's frequently injured in battle or dungeons, but watching his Uncle bleed to death left him with a kind of hemophobia and he tends to have mini panic attacks/breakdowns when exposed to large amounts of blood. He hates it, but can't control it, and hasn't found a way to overcome it at all

After spending a long time at sea after Koholint, trying to find his way home, Legend actually really dislikes the taste of fish. He had to rely on his mer form a lot getting home, and fish has been ruined forever because it was his only choice for food, and eating it raw (mer) did make him sick a few times (he's still hylian at his core) so now he tends to get queasy when eating fish, just on reflex

He's a dead ringer for his late mother, to the point where people who knew her sometimes double take

I know Warriors is supposed to be the pretty one, but considering Legend's canonically had forces of nature comment on how pretty he is (I think it was Summer specifically, but it could have been one of the other Seasons), I think he's got a type of beauty that, at the least, appeals to the supernatural/magical beings. He's unaware of this though, although he'll always say Fable is one of the most beautiful people in the world, all while unawares of the fact that they're nearly identical looks-ways

He likes to doodle. Drawing more so, but e enjoys both depending on what mood he's in

Logically and artistically minded. Numbers bother him though (something Ravio, who is the reverse, definitely abuses)

He's one of those people who genuinely will be happy if you get him a candle. He's got everything anyone could need, but something that smells nice, offers minimal light, and he;s always running out of? Oh he loves them. He's very picky about what scents he'll accent though because his nose is very sensitive

He cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders a lot when he's bored/tense/stressed- basically all the time LOL

he uses sewing/stitchwork as a way to try and relax himself after a long day. it works half the time. the other half his thread gets tangled and he gets very worked up LOL

Secretly admired Sky's skills in embroidery, but doesn't have the patience to practice anything complicated

he loves to teach people things, but constantly assumes people won't listen, so he tends to break things down to bare basics rather than going into the nitty gritty like he enjoys.

Such a big sweet tooth

Genuinely hates the feeling of fur. Twilight's pelt bothers him, not just because the guy who turns into a wolf is literally wearing a wolf's skin, but also because the feeling of fur, treated or no, displeases him most of the time. He only likes fur when it's on something alive and moving, and even then, he's picky about it

Has a extreme fear of dogs. It's both from being chased by the soldiers' dogs, but also various dog-like things in the Dark World. Wolfie used to make him very uncomfortable before he realized it was Twilight

Fall boy. The other seasons would be offended if they knew he had a favorite, but I think his little apple farming, leaf crunching, bright color enjoying self would just adore the fall.

he LOVES the rain. His arthritis acts up something awful when it rains, but when it's not too bad he enjoys being out in the rain. That said, he HATES thunderstorms, less because of being struck by lightning (LA) and more because of the storm the night that his Uncle died

He's actually not fond of heights. He doesn't panic, but he's used to being very low, or even below the ground, so being very high above it unsettles him.

He tends to sleep curled up, he's not sure why, he just does

He's got VERY sensitive ears, both to touch and sound

Buck teeth <3

Also, freckles. He doesn't spend much time in the sun, but he does tend to freckle when he has. It also brings out some natural highlights in his hair, but he's not aware of that because it's not happened since he was small

Tends to sound like he's talking down to everyone, but in reality he's just never sure what all most people know about any given subject

Has such a soft spot for kids

He's a god-father to Bippin and Blossom's kid, and he adores that little munchkin, bordering on spoiling them.

Imma end it there because it's late and I need to be up early, but I hope this satisfied your curiosity a bit!

Thanks for the ask! I appreciate the chance to talk about all these ideas!

#asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #ketto's brainfarts

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waves-after-dark · 24 hours ago

Text

i think its interesting that in the kataang storyline katara is given grief for her endgame being mother, wife, healer A N D not being an active member of the world stage

but in most of the zutara content katara is wife, mother and in quite a few stories embraces her healing abilities because it goes great with zuko being the burn victim

now, i have not read every zutara creation in existence but i have immersed myself in a lot of zutara content for many years since the original show aired and do not mistake my point here, i enjoy zutara, i'm not anti any ship, i'm a multi shipper. this post is a matter of an observation and recent conversations on here over the topic of the katara we see in The Legend of Korra

a lot of zutara works amount to katara and zuko happily married, of course with plenty of drama on the way because it would not be a proper zutara story without all the flair and drama, and naturally, their steam babies

a big difference i see, politically speaking. politically. is katara is a monarch in one story and not in the other

in many zutara stories katara and zuko have the envied romance, beautiful, steam babies and katara is almost always heavily involved in the politics of the fire nation (zuko's court)

and this is the point where i want to offer a perspective change. maybe lok was following a more realistic approach which reality is grim and injust whereas the fantasy that katara is a leader in politics in the fire nation is less likely to be based in reality. and that's fine, it's fanfiction.

we hope and dream as writers and readers

but there is this idea that katara by marrying zuko has more political say and knowledge and influence by simply being his wife and they re-write the entire culture of the royal family, its duties, the family structure of the nation, it's wonderful! but those things do not happen overnight, it is fantasy if it does, it takes generations, centuries to sometimes see that kind of change

unfortunately, The Legend of Korra is grim

there have been a lot of great people who pushed back against abusive systems who were well-known in that bubble of a moment but history washed them away

so the writers "stripped katara's power" maybe the writers were expressing what has happened to women like katara and i know it pisses people off and it is understandable that it does

i do not deny a writer can let their ego get in their writing and just decide they do not want to care about a character and do not want to invest in said character because they no longer care about what the character cares about

all of these things are plausible and the fact that some people do not accept that all are plausible is the definition of close-minded

until bryke says: hey, this is what happened to katara, it is widely left open and let's be honest, no matter what bryke confirms about katara in those years between a:tla and what we see of her in lok, not everyone is going to be happy and that's okay too

#atla #katara #atla critical #atla discourse #zutara #kataang #im not an anti shipper simply because i speculate

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absolutebl · 3 days ago

Note

This is a BL Challenge for you (if you want to accept them) :

1.) Is there a BL that you finished even when :

a. You love the story but not really fond of the actors (maybe the acting or other reasons)?

b. You love the acting (the series as a whole) but not really fond with the story?

2.)

a. Is there a BL that you dislike at the beginning but when you finish them, it became one of your favorite?

b. What is your fav BL cover?

3.) Please write your top 3 or top 5 favorite tropes in BL.

From each trope, write at least 2 BL that you love.

4.) Who are your top 5 (or top 3) top & bottom from your favorite BL media, the top and bottom don't have to be from the same BL.

5.) What are you favorite BL from the 1990s and 2000s?

6.)

a. BL you finished that is just bizarre but you still enjoy them?

b. BL that have stayed with you (special for you) or influenced you (at least 5 titles)?

7.)

a. BL that you love only (mostly) because of the sexy scenes?

b. BL that is your guilty pleasure?

8.) Your fav non-canon BL ships from any media?

9.) Your top 5 or top 3 fav each for Green Flag BL couples & Red Flag BL couples.

10.)

a. What is your first BL that made you got into BL?

b. What BL that made you cry (happy or sad)?

Thanks if you want to answer all of the above! Feel free to answer how many that you want...

Also, thanks so much for your BL recs & reviews! 🤩😆

OMG this is so fun! Exactly what I wanted to do this morning (and not work). Challenge accepted!!! (I also added a few for s&g)

The BL Challenge Questions

1.) Is there a BL that you finished even when :

a. You love the story but not really fond of the actors (maybe the acting or other reasons)?

This is hard, very rarely does BL get me on story alone. It would likely be from Korea or Japan. Picks up an examines Life Love On the Line. Sets it back down gently. Maybe Blueming? Don't kill me stans, but Bump Up Business? Would I put some of the first season HIStory in here.?

Honestly? I'm super hard pressed to name a BL that got me on story alone.

b. You love the acting (the series as a whole) but are not fond of the story?

One instantly springs to mind for this, Eternal Yesterday. I knew what I was in for with that story from the start. We all did. But it is still horrible.

Also My Stand-In, The On1y One, and The Time of Fever. Oof.

I would put a number of second seasons into this category too like Minato 2, or To My Star 2. And quite a few of early BLs with missed or muddy endings like I Am Your King. All the true dark BLs and moody artshouse stuff have to be set aside, I think, because I knew what I was in for. Well, except The Effect and HIStory3: The BL That Shall Not Be Named. Never forget. Never forgive.

c. You're not fond of either just some kind of BL masochist?

Cupid's Last Wish and Ossan's Love in all iterations. (WHY did I do that to myself)

If I had a do over I would have dropped CLW. Now that I have a solid DNF policy in place (and there is so much BL airing I can be picky) there are quite a few BLs I wish I had simply never wasted time on in retrospect.

2.) Is there a BL that you dislike at the beginning but when you finished, it became one of your favorites?

Ooooh another easy one! Bad Buddy. It started as a trash watch and became a praise watch and it stuck that landing like nobody's business. I live blogged it, so you could all watch my CTJ moment in real time.

There are actually a few others in this category like My Beautiful Man, DNA Says Love You, even Love Sick but I wouldn't say I disliked them as much as I did BB at the start.

3.) What is your fav BL cover?

You mean OST? Oh good, another easy one (I have so few songs I like from BLs).

Eternal Yesterday's Sunshower by Ayumu Imazu

youtube

Ooo, now I'm listening to it. Yay!

4.) Top 5 favorite tropes in BL. For each trope, write at least 2 BLs that you love that represent it.

Whipping Boy - My Beautiful Man, My Personal Weatherman

Stepbrothers (or similar family taboo) - Unknown, Cherry Blossoms After Winter

Age Gap (specifically were the younger is the aggressor) - Minato's Laundromat, Old Fashion Cupcake

Student/teacher - Private Lesson, Love Class 2 (side couple)

Kink - KinnPorsche (side couple), The Next Prince (side couple) - neither of these are BLs I love, but I love these couples in them.

I know I have some other rare topes too, but I wanted to choose 5 obviously recognizable ones.

5.) Who are your top 5 top & bottom seme/uke from your favorite BLs, they don't have to be from the same BL.

I specifically tried to pick not from the same BL as a challenge.

a. Top 5 seme

Dean in Until We Meet Again

Solo in Oxygen

Shin in Minato's Laundromat

Togawa in Old Fashion Cupcake

Karan in Cherry Magic Thailand

Gotta say I eliminated a number of favorites because they were too toxic (my bad) and others because they did not come from a favorite BL. But most went to the wayside because they didn't fit the ideal of seme well enough. Bye bye Taiwan.

b. Top 5 uke

Taekyung in Light On Me

Sangwoo in Semantic Error

Kakeru in I Cannot Reach You (possibly my favorite of all time)

Amagi in Takara & Amagi

Won in Unintentional Love Story

Different reason for eliminating favorites with the uke. Blushing maidens and super tsunderes don't make my cut.

Gotta shout out My School President for satisfying both.

6.) What are you favorite old BLs?

a. From the 1990s

I would argue that BL as a genre (defined as such by watchers and critics) did not exist until after 2000. So instead here is a blog post on some 90s movies that, in retrospect, have certain QL leanings. Old Guard Queer Cinema for BL Lovers.

b. From the early 2000s

Seven Days

Another easy one. Always shows up somehow. Someday everyone on this hellsite will have watched this show and it will be primarily because of me.

And then I will disappear in a puff of smake and accomplishment.

But here are some early BLs you might not know about that I also enjoy.

7.) 5 BL you finished that is just bizarre but you still enjoy them?

The Sign

To Sir With Love

Secret Relationships

Pit Babe

Laws of Attraction

8.) 5 BLs that have stayed with you (special for you) or influenced you?

We Best Love

Dark Blue Kiss

Until We Meet Again

Seven Days

Old Fashion Cupcake

9.) BL that you love only (mostly) because of the sexy scenes?

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans

The Sign

Deep Night

Love in the Air (sigh)

Jack & Joker

10 more here from 2023 and prior. My Stubborn might get into this category too.

10.) BL that is your guilty pleasure?

2 Moons Ambassador probably. But I don't really feel guilty about BL. Here are some of my all time favorite Trash Watches,

11.) Your fav non-canon BL ships from any media?

I try not to ship unless strictly called for so, Devil Judge probably.

12.) Your top 5 fav each:

a. Green Flag BL couples

ThamePo

WandeeGoodday

Monster Next Door

My Ride

Your Sky

Just to name a few. I have MORE. 2024 was very good to us.

b. Red Flag BL couples.

My Personal Weatherman

Our Youth

The Time of Fever

the stepbrothers in HIStory 4 (I KNOW)

far too much MAME

13.) BL that got you into BL?

Until We Meet Again

I had seen some before it from Japan (Takumi etc..) but I thought of them as a rare one offs (not a genre). Which they kind of were. I think it took Thailand really entering the field to drag my arse in whole hog.

Honestly, my memory from 2019 Bl is so Hazy it might have been Love By Chance instead. But UWMA is my origin story and I am sticking to it.

This is one reason I advise, if you keep a spreadsheet, to have a column for "date you watched" as well as "date it aired."

But I didn't even have a spreadsheet back then. Early days...

14.) BL that made you cry (happy or sad)?

A hard one, since it isn't charted on the Spreadsheet of Doom. And I cry A LOT. I'll just pick 10 recent ones:

Unknown

Love For Love's Sake

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

When it Rains it Pours

See Your Love

Our Youth

Secrets Happened on the Litchi Island

Caged Again

Heesu in Class 2

The Time of Fever

(source)

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directdogman · 18 hours ago

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Hi I just wanted to say that you have inspired me a lot.

I have always wanted to write stories for a while now, I have big dreams and I hope to one day accomplish them.

Dsaf originally inspired my first oc, which to be fair I did just steal from dsaf (don't worry they are different now) it also inspired my Phone headed sona.

Your games, dsaf and dialtown are an inspiration for me, and I also was wondering if you have any advice for someone trying to write a massive project.

Sorry if I bothered you with this, have a nice day or night dogman

Ayyy, glad to hear my writing's inspired you!

To be frank, I mightn't be the best person to take writing advice from. I'm still a student in the grand scheme of things and any lesson I teach you would likely make you more like me as a writer, when you should always wanna aim past me! You should never settle for being as good as me when you can be so much better!

The only surefire creative advice I can give that might be useful to you now, which I know works because every successful artist I know has learned it, is to start small. However small you're thinking of right now, half it. Then half it again. Then half it AGAIN, and so on. Your first project should, if anything, just be a single scene. I know that might seem small, but trust me, that's always how it starts. When you're confident you've gotten the scene where you need it, then you work up from there, a few scenes, to a few more scenes, to a small game. It's better too if you don't just keep adding to the same game and start over each time for a reason I'll elaborate on now.

If you try to make a single project that's as large as the ones that inspired you, you will have a truly frustrating time. Aside from the fact that it's very difficult to organize a large project before you learn the skills that you'll pick up gradually as you make smaller projects, you also improve a lot as you start out. It's very common, especially at the very beginning of your journey, to constantly revise and remake your work as you go because every now and then, you'll improve so much that everything at the beginning is noticeably worse than what comes after.

This happens to all developers, to be clear, even ones with years of experience under their belts. It's the reason Fez took years to get out, by the developer's own admission. If your project takes a few days or even a week to make, you only have a small length of time to get better and want to scrap everything. Getting something, anything out there, getting feedback, being able to reflect on a finished product is an essential part of your creative journey and I know many developers who are more talented than me who've never gotten that far due to their tendency to set targets for themselves that they can't hit yet.

This lesson took me a much longer time for me to learn than I'd like to admit. I have about 4 long-term projects that never saw the light of day that I worked on for most of my teenage years (which I could make now), but couldn't then. If I'd made smaller projects during that time and honed specific skills, I'd likely be even better than I am now!

You'll get there if you stick with it. Learning any creative skill from scratch is an incredibly frustrating and at times, completely disheartening process. You'd be surprised how many times I almost quit doing this. But, nothing good's ever truly easy. Start tiny, work your way up! Through self reflection, feedback, added experience, you'll figure out your own style, your own workflow. And then... I am TOAST. Best of luck!

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physics-of-one-piece · 2 days ago

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Everyone I see on here or Ao3 always has A LOT of words per chapter. Heck, the one you're working on has 10k+ from what you've said in that one post. How do you get all that out into one chapter? The best I can do is like, 2-3k a chapter and that feels so "meh" compared to everyone else.

First, what I want to say is that word count does not equal quality. You can say so much within 1k words just as you can say nothing in 10k words.

Heck, my most popular fic of Doffy is Risk and Reward, the fic with 4k words of Celestial Doflamingo x Reader and only like 2k of that is smut.

Nothing is "meh". All writing is great! Don't you dare talk about your writing like that! 😠

For example, I wrote just yesterday only 600 words but they are all full of feelings of a character and is that "meh"? NO! Those words are important! Whether it be plot, emotions, descriptions of something, if it is short does not make it "meh"

NO WRITING IS "MEH". Don't base the worth of your writing on the amount of words you write. It will kill your motivation bcs you'll be self-pressuring yourself to reach a "certain word count"

There is no "word count goal"

I hate that thing. Hell, I hate that it takes ME so many words to get what I want to express across in my writing!

Now, for the og question, how do we get all that out in one chapter? It takes us like a month for that. And it takes planning, too. And don't forget... ✨Motivation✨

I can't barf 10k words in one single day (okay, fine I barfed M&P Chapter 1 and wrote it in a day like I was possessed BUT that is an EXCEPTION of hyperactivity and being obsessed with Doffy 🤣)

But usually, that doesn't happen. We take breaks. We procrastinate. We got IRL duties. 10k words come from probably WEEKS or MONTHS of writing.

Editing is a big thing of how to like fit the 10k words in one chapter. I honestly HATE when I cross 10k words. When I get past that point I just HATE myself. Because editing also means PROOFREADING. And there is so many times I can re-read a scene before I never want to re-read it again in my life 🤣

10k words is like 20 pages in a Word Document, I think? That is an absolute NIGHTMARE to proofread to me.

@ohnomyhooves can say a bit more about word count cus... Hooves got the Write-Write Devil Fruit I swear to god. Also @oddmawd can also hop in and give some account on this bcs they also write quite the word count for Doffy fics (not that I'm complaining)

I myself hate reaching 10k mostly because of Editing Nightmare™ that it becomes for me.

And like... There is if you want to post it on Tumblr... From my experience, Tumblr can't take more than 12k words.

Yeah, I... I know bcs I tried. Remember, M&P Chapter 4 was originally Chapter 4+ Chapter 5 combined. I end my chapters when I feel they should end.

Write however you want and never depend on word count to tell you how good your writing or story is. That's bullshit. Writing is about having fun!

Sending love and I hope this helped a little ❤️

#asks #writing

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orgasmic-rock · 2 days ago

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The way people are just... genuinely perplexed when someone prefers Draco over Harry will never make sense to me. Like... do these people get how the human brain works? What makes it tick? Do they even go here?

(I'm not gonna talk about Ron because I've put enough effort into this and I just don't care about him like that)

So moving on, of course many people will be drawn to Draco over Harry. Personally I find Draco to be a much more sympathetic and therefore compelling character than Harry. Draco always faces consequences for his actions (sometimes unfairly so). He keeps getting beat up by others but always comes right back up. He tries. He makes mistakes, he fucks up, he has faults, sometimes he has moments where he's weak or vulnerable. The narrative is built against him and it's funny that JKR keeps showing him in a light that she thinks will make him unlikable while in reality it has the opposite effect because it humanises him. Truly, that woman's brain seems to be wired ass-backwards when it comes to, well, everything. Ultimately, Draco goes through heavy trauma and comes out a changed man, and isn't that attractive all on its own? For a human and a fictional character.

Now Harry on the other hand, has narrative protection. He's the ultimate Good Guy ™, the Chosen One, the Protagonist, JKR's self-insert. He gets to have his cake and eat it too. He never has to change in a major way because apparently he doesn't need to; it's the others who are at fault and have to come around to his own way of thinking and doing things. When he's majorly wrong about something, there's a disclaimer, a little loophole. The narrative never paints him as weak or vulnerable which I feel puts up a wall between him and the reader. Even though he goes through some heavily traumatic stuff for a very long period of time, I can't seem to find it in me to care that much other than intellectually recognising that yes, that boy has gone through horrific abuse his whole life. Basically he loses humanising points, so it's hard to relate to him in that most intrinsic way. Sometimes the narration gets so preachy when it comes to him and certain other characters that back when I read the books it completely took me out of the story (though you can certainly apply watsonian logic to this).

tl;dr: Draco is relatable, Harry isn't.

So anyway, yeah, I wonder why that Draco character is so appealing to so many people 🧐

Now I'd go on a rant about the second part of your post (because I agree with it obviously) but trying to put my thoughts in some semblance of order has wiped me out so I'll just add that I recently found your blog and I just keep nodding along to so many of the things you write. It's always a pleasure to find other like-minded people around. See ya!

I can't believe that in 2025, I still see posts questioning why Draco is more popular than Ron or Harry. If they're so against his growing popularity, instead of blaming the people who like him, why not blame jkr for giving him his own arc instead of keeping him as a minor character whose only purpose is to get in Harry's way?

At this point, it feels like these people only hate Draco because of his growing popularity, and most of it comes from envy that their favorite character didn’t achieve the same level of fame. It's funny how the ones who hate Draco end up acting just like him in the first five books.

The worst part is that some people who call themselves Drarry fans agree with this mindset because, in their eyes, Draco will always be beneath Harry, and they will never be equals. To them, Harry is someone unreachable for Draco, and it's only because of Harry's kindness that he "accepts" Draco as his partner.

And with Draco's growing popularity, there will inevitably be people who favor him over Harry, which they cannot accept. So, they keep bringing up all the bad things he did as a child while purposely ignoring the fact that canon clearly shows Draco has moved past that phase and is no longer the same person he was back then.

#draco malfoy #harry potter #draco deserved better

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ghrgrsfdesfrfg · 29 days ago

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Masterlist

Creation : 29/05/2025

Last updated 13/06/2025

Taglist, anyone can be added, just ask me : @fantasticarcadefan @baldieboi , @fallen-angel2470, @bbmgirll, @feral-childs-word, @hai-there-how-are-you

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Poppy playtime :

The Rat king

Baron Bon-Bon

Eudora

The Iron Maiden

Doctor Stitchen, Kidnapping

DC Universe :

Slayer Reader : part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

Doll Reader : not finished yet.

Springtrap Reader : The Birth of evil

Alpharius Reader : not finished yet, or is it ?

Gambling Queen : potentially soon.

The Fleshcrafter : not finished yet.

#yandere batfam x reader #poppy playtime oc #poppy playtime x reader #dc x reader #poppy playtime #dc x male reader #dc x female reader #doom #masterlist #fnaf x reader #not finished yet #too many stories to write for now but i'm getting there ^^#primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #fnaf reader #springtrap reader

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sysig · 30 days ago

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“My streamer” voice: My doctorrrrrr (Patreon)

#My art #Damned #Vargas #Edgar #Clinical Trial #Lee Smith #Wander Over Yonder #Wander #It literally took me three tries to draw this but I finally did it! Finally the they - all three of them <3 #My guys <3 My silly therapists <3 <3 #Edgar's here as a guest because he was a therapist recently and also I love him he always gets preferential treatment #Preferential to him? I mean :) Sometimes lol ♪ So far he's been well! Good for him #Gah what fun ugh ♥ I've already gone a little insane on a Vargas/Clinical Trial crossover - in due time #But then there's that Other therapist I'm writing for not In-Patient lol #Lee please don't freak out at his red hair and freckles it's just Wander and he's so short and friendly #Get 'em all together in a room! Actually does the Institute have an employee lounge? Gotta check....#It does! I've spent too much time on the first floor lol - there's the Lounge and the Outdoor Patio on the second floor!!#Wander and Edgar meeting up and having lunch together... Going over patient files.... Cross-referencing their patients' shared stories......#The funs and cutes...#This was initially meant to focus on Lee but he's here the least! Haha poor guy #Hmm I wonder what elements could have contributed from my already-faves to enjoying him so much.... A mystery.......#I really like the reading that Lee has moral OCD in particular - I enjoy being in his head behind those eyes!#And Wander just straight up has OCD like it's all but confirmed in as many words #I haven't gotten back behind Edgar's eyes in too long now but hmmmm many things to consider with how he Corrects himself #Scriabin is his own special case haha <3 #But he Definitely has the religious guilt - probably not the same flavour but still very much colours how they interact with the world!#Hhghhghhh the next sketchdump I can go feral on it it's fine I'll get to it #And then the most innocuous bonus lol - nothing mental health just - goatee haha #It's so funny to me that I've drawn Wander hugging Edgar already and now this haha - very holding hands! That's not even a handshake anymore #Please imagine Wander shorter lol - or maybe he's standing on a box

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cluescorner · 1 year ago

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I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian al ghul wayne #batman #batfamily #for all of the issues that come with having Steph as your fave having too much wild shit happening at once is never one of them #btw I quite like The Boy Wonder Issue 1. wow shocker an artist and writer who I have liked everything they've ever done #has once again written something that I am enjoying with art that makes me want to be part of its world.#it's almost like Juni Ba is really freaking talented or something #like I have some problems with it but it seems like many of those are part of the point. Damian is learning that his siblings are more #three-dimensional than he realized and that is part of this 'coming of age' story merged with fairytale #so I can't be mad at the oversimplistic defining of Dick and Jason and Tim until the conclusion of the series. that might be the point.#I hope that the series will address Steph as a Robin but if not then frankly it's not an issue unique to this series.#I'll be annoyed and disappointed but ultimately roll with it like I am with Babsgirl being here. There's too much good stuff here to get #hung up on shit that seems to be almost an editorial mandate at this point. at least that's where I'm at.#I am also very sorry that Chip Zdarsky is massacring your boy. he has 'X (Tim for him) is the best Robin so everyone else must suck' diseas #where a writer really likes one specific Robin and in trying to uplift them demeans all of the other Robins. instead of like...just writing #for that one character only or alternatively not demeaning the other characters in order to make his blorbo look good #it's wild because I actually think his writing for Tim is pretty solid. but he's not writing a Tim series. he's writing a Batman series.#and if you are going to write a Batman series and include other Batfamily members you need to actually write them well.#instead of assigning them like 2 personality traits while Tim gets to be a whole character #I accept that behavior in fanfic where I have lesser standards because it's fucking free. not a comic run that wants me to pay #tens of dollars in order to understand what the fuck is going on. he's been going for a while now it's gotta be a lot of money.#I can buy Steelworks with that money. I can see John Henry and Natasha Irons in a trade. Fuck you Chip.#it's why it takes such a special person to write a good ensemble story/a good Batfamily story. you have to be good at writing a LOT #of different characters. which I don't think most people are. I sure as hell am not. I can write maybe 3 at a time confidently well.#and you also have to give all of them at least SOME love or else people will be upset that you aren't focusing on their fave #and also the writing as a whole will suffer. Chip Zdarsky is a pretty good Tim writer. I'd maybe read a Tim solo written by him.#I would not read a story focusing on multiple characters that I like written by Chip Zdarsky. because every character who isn't Tim #is at least a bit weak/inconsistent/out of character INCLUDING FUCKING BATMAN. THE NO. 1 GUY MOST ARE HERE FOR

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icharchivist · 3 months ago

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lmao a mod just to spill the discourse on the nexus? really? this is where we are coming to?

oh no how dare people find fault with the da4 writing, i'm going to make the most annoying mod of all time just to make fun of them because i'm soooooo mature

#many things have been getting on my nerves today but this is a last straw sorry i'm becoming a villain #like omggg who caressss are you happy? does it give you satisfaction to have made of people a strawman?#ohhhh look at me i don't understand the criticisms people make but i'm going to make fun of you with false equivencies <3 #sORRY LIKE #this specific mod is specifically about critisms about like. modern writing #people are still VERY mad at that one thread about various word uses in DA including how much 'okay' is being used #it's almost like this thread had an overrall point and not just 'ahah they say okay too much what losers'#but what would people who's only talent is post passive aggressive mods on nexus dot com would know about anything #oh im just mean today this has been a garbage week and a difficult day but now i just want to maim and kill #demons and humans are too similar indeed bc this is my demon original story #ichatalks about da #ichablogging davg #ichasalty

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thegreatwicked · 1 year ago

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Lover, Fighter

This is a little something special for someone I know who is a lovely person but is also going through a tough time. Self-care is important and so is reaching out, I know it's hard and I struggle to do it too sometimes. But I promise you, there are many people who care and worry about you. It's going to be all right. So, if it's just a bad day or you've been having a series of bad days, take time to love yourself and let others love you.

Where my Obi-Wan Ladies at? Guys, we need a name. Obi-Wans Harem? I'm taking suggestions. Have a good day everyone! It's what Obi-Wan would want.

Part of the 50 Shades of Obi-Wan Reader Insert Series

Lover, Fighter.

Everybody says there's, two kinds of hearts Where one loves and one goes to war Some make peace and others get even No solid ground to stand for

Surely, it's not easy or that simplified I'm dying while you walk away I wanna put my boots on and march to the front lines

I will be your lover, fighter, harder, higher, lover, fighter I wanna fight for lover, fighter under fire, lover, fighter I wanna fight for love, love, love Wanna fight for love, love, love

The day was at its end and no one was more relieved to see it than Master Kenobi. He was fatigued, and his back ached from the long day of Council Meetings, and each moment spent in those chairs was far from pleasant as they had clearly been designed with aesthetics in mind rather than comfort. A little over an hour was all it would take before one’s tailbone began to ache. But being that they were meant to be uniform and accommodate other species aside from humans, there was little that could be done in the matter aside from trying not to look too obvious as you shifted in your seat.

He felt a bit overstimulated as well, he had long maintained that the life of politics wasn’t for him, but as his time on the council grew he found that politics trickled its way into Jedi affairs more and more these days, and if left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He wanted a soothing cup of tea, the heat of a shower, and the cool caress of sheets on his skin with you securely in his arms, of course. He smiled as he thought of the softness of your touch and the sweetness of your lips in every kiss, and each step that brought him closer to your shared quarters brought him closer to your embrace; home.

As he stepped off the turbo lift, a choppy sensation prickled at the back of his mind, a slight disturbance in the Force that set him on edge. It could have been anything, maybe he wasn’t the only one having a long and tiring day, but as he drew closer to his quarters the disturbance grew more intense, like an awful tinnitus, a tuning fork from hell. There were several turns he needed to take before he reached home but even before those definitive turns he knew—

"Something is wrong," Obi-Wan muttered under his breath.

He began quickening his pace until he was just about jogging to reach your shared quarters, his robes flowing behind him as only the muted sound of his heavy footfalls betrayed his urgency to reach you. Though not panicked, he was keenly alert and concern coursed through him as his connection to you wavered in the Force.

As soon as he stepped through the doors, tension gripped him like a vice, squeezing his temples until they began to throb with discomfort. The air was both thick and fragile as if one wrong move would shatter it into a million sharp pieces. It set him on edge, if it was doing this to him, what was it doing to you?

He scanned the main room, but you were nowhere in sight. There was not a single sign of life besides himself. As he made his way towards your shared bedroom, his heart raced with a sense of dread that grew stronger with each step and the hairs on his neck stood up.

Obi-Wan's eyes landed on you sitting on the edge of the bed, and a sense of relief washed over him. But it was short-lived as he realized that the awful disturbance was coming from you.

You sat facing the wall back hunched in a miserable repose, hair cascading over one shoulder like a frigid waterfall as distress radiated off you in powerful waves, sending daggers to his heart. Your shoulders shook with silent sobs that tried at every turn to force their way out of your body, you were locked in combat trying to maintain them, your head buried in your hands. Fingers twisted in your hair, clutching your scalp.

You were so consumed by your emotions that you didn't even notice Obi-Wan's presence as he stood silently in the doorway, his eyes filled with concern. Who had done this to you? Who had hurt you? His Starlight?

"Darling, what's happened?" Obi-Wan asked softly, his voice laced with worry, but you didn’t respond.

He felt the swirling chaos around you intensify like it was trying to pull him in. Your breath hitched in your chest as you tried to swallow your cries and ragged breaths. To force them back down to that place where they could not escape. A thousand questions raced through his mind, but he knew he needed to remain calm for your sake.

The sight of you in such pain was unbearable, and he longed to take your suffering away, to shield you from whatever darkness had taken hold. But first, he needed to understand what was happening.

He took a slow, cautious step toward you, his heart heavy with concern. "My love?" He called gently, trying to reach through the overwhelming tide of your sorrows.

There was no response, and so he reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You jumped at his touch, finally registering his presence. It was a terrible thing, the look in your eyes; red and puffy, glistened with unshed tears. Struggling to control the tide of tears. Startled by his sudden appearance, you leaped to your feet, hastily attempting to straighten your disheveled appearance. Arranging your hair to hide your face from him, you didn’t want him to see you like this, so vulnerable and small. The distress that was centered on you suddenly faded as though on turned off a tap of water, giving him a glimpse of just what you had been keeping from him.

Stars!

What was he even doing here? He was early, wasn’t he? You looked to the timepiece to find that, that was actually not the case, he was in fact, a bit late. You’d been so wrapped up in your misery that you’d failed to notice he was over an hour late in returning. You cursed yourself for being so careless.

"Is everything-"

"Nothing's wrong," You insisted harshly, not meaning to snap at him, it just came out like that. "I'm just... tired, that's all."

You could feel his stare, not needing to turn around to see those beautiful blue eyes to know that he didn’t believe you. He wasn’t blind to your pain, he felt it in every half-smile, each reserved kiss. You hadn’t been yourself since returning from the front lines and he would have been a fool not to notice it, and you a bigger one if you thought you could hide it from him.

There was no hiding it now. He didn’t believe you for a moment, and you’d have a hell of a time convincing him otherwise now. Kriff! How were you going to fix this? He wasn’t expecting to come home to a simpering mess of a woman, he wanted his strong-willed, playful, passionate lover, but instead, he came home to a crying girl.

For a few moments neither of you said anything. Part of you wanted so badly to turn around and embrace him; to fall into the arms of the man you loved but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Stubbornness had long been your greatest foe and your most insidious one; that it prevented you from seeking comfort from the person you trusted the most. Your eyes burned as a war was waged within them stemming the tides of those tears screaming to be released. A small part of you wanted him to force the details of your pain so you had to confront them but you knew better. Obi-Wan Kenobi would never do such a thing.

But that didn’t mean he was going to do nothing, instead of the anger or frustration at your deception you expected, he took a different approach.

"What have I done to lose your confidence in me?"

You looked at him, shocked by his question, and then quickly turned away, placing your hands on the desk for support, hanging your head in shame. The silence between you stretched on, a chasm that seemed to deepen with each passing second.

Your trembling hands, gripped the desk as if it were your only lifeline. He approached you slowly, each step a careful calculation, a deliberate choice to bridge the gap between you.

“My dear, I know you’ve been melancholy lately, and while I would never presume to know the depth of your despair, I had hoped you might reach out to me when you were ready,”

He hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of your anguish, before closing the distance and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You stiffened slightly at his touch but didn't pull away.

"I know how difficult it can be to leave that battlefield behind," He murmured gently, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Physical wounds may heal, but not all wounds close quite the same."

Warmth flowed from his palm into your form, easing your rigid posture.

"I could never lose confidence in you, Obi-Wan," You admitted softly, your voice laden with sorrow. "But I didn't want to burden you with my darkness."

You could practically hear him shaking his head, he did that a lot when you let silly things like this happen.

"My darling girl,"

He gently pulled you back by the shoulder, turning you to face him, but you stubbornly kept your gaze on the ground; staring at your boots meeting his. He didn’t try to make you look up at him, though he wanted to see your eyes, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest.

"I would rather endure a hundred battles in the darkest of nights than to see you suffer in stubbornness. But I know asking for help isn't something you're naturally gifted at."

He was one to talk…

But he was right, you nodded against his chest, a small sigh escaping your lips. Gently, he stroked your hair, feeling the warmth of his body melding with your own, you relaxed in his embrace. He pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, he did that a lot too, it was one of the things that saw to it that your heart could hardly contain itself whenever he was near.

“If you don’t want my help just push, darling, but if you do, just stay here with me.” He whispered into your hair, the sound of his heartbeat steady and reassuring beneath your ear. "Let me carry it for you,"

After several minutes of silence, a quiet rain began to fall outside their window, the droplets tapping gently against the glass.

You didn’t push him away.

Your hands gripped onto his robes tightly and the trembling returned. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, inhaling the damp scent of the air, before he spoke again.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

You remained still for a moment as if gathering your thoughts, and you did your best to steadily let out a breath that shook just like you did.

"You're right," You whispered "I'm struggling.”

His arms tightened around you.

“The pain and the memories. My connection to the Force isn't what it was, and I'm afraid, I feel like I’m drowning." Your body shook more as you spoke, the turmoil within spilling out like waves crashing upon a rocky shore. You hated feeling like this and not knowing what the catalyst was that caused all of this. That there was no rational explanation for the way you were feeling. It felt so… foolish.

“I can’t find my peace, I can’t silence the nightmares or the ghosts, it feels like they’re trying to drag me down and sometimes I can scarcely breathe.”

You felt it creeping back up on you as you spoke the words aloud like the darkness was trying to claw at you and pull you away from the safety of Obi-Wan’s arms. Your breathing grew increasingly erratic, an invisible weight on your chest, crushing you, tearing you apart and the crippling fear of drowning returned.

His hand found its way into the tresses of your hair turning your head to rest against his chest, just above his heart. If there was anyone who knew of the ghosts that haunted you, it was Obi-Wan, having suffered their attacks before as well. He didn’t tell you that you were foolish to keep this from him, nor did he patronize you by speaking to you like a little Padawan; telling you to collect your thoughts and concentrate on the force. Sometimes feelings just needed to be felt and acknowledged no matter how irrational or frightening they were.

Mentoring his Padawan to Knighthood and eventually to the rank of Master had taught him that.

"Shh," he soothed, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. "Focus on my breathing, and listen to my heartbeat. Breathe with me, my love."

Somehow, you weren’t sure how, the muted sound of his heartbeat came through the noise and clutter that was crowding your mind. Soft and quiet at first but then as the seconds ticked on, it grew louder and… warmer. He stroked your hair and held you closer to him. He could feel the tension building in your body, the energy coming off you in waves of distress, his cerulean serenity went to silent battle with the demons that persisted after you.

"You are not alone in this. I understand."

He slowed his own breaths, taking deep and measured inhales and exhales. The Force radiating from him, a gentle and calming presence that enveloped you like a warm, soothing blanket. Gradually, your breathing calmed and matched his, the storm within beginning to subside, the waters stilling, the skies clearing.

As you breathed in and out, you gradually loosened your death grip on his robes. Your grip, once tight with fear, now softened. And then, without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, clinging to the sanctuary he provided. The rain continued its gentle rhythm outside, washing away the last vestiges of distress from the room.

"Can you hear it?" Obi-Wan asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

His heartbeat.

You listened intently, your ear pressed against the steady thrum of his chest. "Yes," You murmured, breathing in deeply. The scent of incense and the familiar linnens of the temple robes mingled with his own unique smell, a comforting presence that helped to calm you further.

"You're not going to drown, I won’t let you" He promised, his words firm and unwavering. "You're safe now, away from the battlefield." A few guarded tears seeped into his robes, but he didn't let go, only holding on tighter. "Your secrets are safe with me. All of you is safe with me."

Turmoil within you slowly abated, the Force around you becoming peaceful once more, mirroring the steadiness of Obi-Wan's presence.

He glanced towards the balcony at the rain drizzling down onto Coruscant, remembering your shared fondness for meditating in the rain. You followed his gaze and pulled back slightly, attempting a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, but it was trying.

"I'm alright now,"

You insisted, hoping to reassure him. It was a lie, and not a very convincing one but at the moment, you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince more; him or yourself? Though it didn’t matter, one of you needed to think you were alright, even if it wasn’t true.

But that wasn’t good enough for Obi-Wan and he shook his head gently.

"Not quite yet you’re not, but you are getting there." He took your hand in his, pressing a tender kiss to your palm and wrist before guiding you towards the balcony.

The air had a chill that often accompanied the rain it felt good on your skin despite the initial shiver due to the sudden change of temperature. He wore that kind smile that made his eyes shimmer, and he looked from the rainy horizon and the darkening horizon to you. The corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile reached farther when he looked at you.

He swiftly shed his heavy robes, tabard, and tunic then tugged off his boots until he stood tall and strong in only his trousers. Against this dreary backdrop, he appeared almost ethereal, his muscular frame glistening with mist and the soft light filtering through the gray clouds illuminating his features like a painting come to life. It was a striking sight, one that captured the essence of raw masculinity amidst the lush green landscape drenched in water.

It had sometimes seemed a silly thing that he would often insist on taking off his boots whenever he could to meditate, insisting that it grounded him and it was good to feel the dirt beneath one’s feet. There was no dirt on the balcony but the chilly concrete was as good a place to start.

With a graceful motion, he lowered himself onto the woven mat spread out on the ground, extending his hand towards you, a silent invitation for you to join him, and for a moment; you hesitated and you didn’t know why. He opened and closed his hand gesturing for you to take his and something inside you screaming for comfort took control of your limbs and your hand slipped into his, the warmth of his gaze and gentle smile reassured you.

Your hand trembled slightly as it reached out and slipped into his calloused one. His rough fingers wrapped around yours, pulling you closer to sit across his lap. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his strong neck, hands tangling in the hair at his nape.

He didn't assume the traditional posture of meditation, instead choosing to lean back against the sturdy wall with you. His muscular arms that wielded a lightsaber with precision and strength, encircled you protectively, their strength reminding you of a fierce swordsman ready to defend his loved ones.

“Come,” He instructed, his tone soothing. "We'll sit here for as long as it takes. Until the shaking stops and the darkness fades. I don't care if it takes all night. Council meetings be damned."

The love of a Jedi was perhaps one of the rarest and most powerful forces in the galaxy, shimmering with an otherworldly energy.

Obi-Wan's love for you was like a warm blanket, wrapping you in safety and comfort. It was also a powerful shield, deflecting the darkness and chaos that threatened to consume you.

Your eyes slipped closed as you allowed yourself to be enveloped by his embrace. The raindrops pattered softly against the floor of the balcony, drops splattering but not quite reaching you.

The cityscape lights of Coruscant twinkled in the night. You smiled weakly into his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek.

"What about Anakin?"

"Anakin is a grown man," Obi-Wan reassured you, his voice strong and even. "Until you're well, he's Padme's responsibility and I trust she is woman enough to wrangle him even at his worst and most impetuous. There is no greater need of me anywhere else in the galaxy than right here with you."

Your heart swooned at such words and the tenderness that emanated from them. What lucky star were you born under to have such a man? You stared at his handsome face for a few moments, seeing all your years together play out. From the moment you’d met him as a Padawan you’d known your destinies would be intertwined. You’d loved this man before you even knew what love was. Listening to the rain, you couldn't help but wonder aloud:

"What would I do without you?"

"You'll never have to know," He promised, his voice filled with determination and love. Your heart swelled with gratitude and affection for him, prompting you to nestle closer in his lap, pressing a gentle kiss to his heart.

"I love you, Obi-Wan."

"I love you too, silly girl," He replied tenderly. "Now hush, just sit here with me and let me care for you."

As if on cue, the rain began to drizzle down more heavily, the sound of it soothing and rhythmic. Obi-Wan's arms tightened around you protectively, and you felt his light pushing the darkness away. You were unsure if the warmth you were feeling came from his body heat or something deeper, but you knew it was there, keeping the cold at bay.

The clouds obscured the sky, preventing the stars from shining, but you knew they were still there, watching over you. This knowledge mirrored everything you felt from Obi-Wan's presence - not always visible, but ever-present and making the night less dark.

"Will we sit here all night?" You asked, curiosity laced with uncertainty in your voice.

"If that's what it takes," He replied without hesitation.

"What if we get cold?" You questioned, seeking reassurance.

"Then I'll keep you warm," He promised, he reached for his discarded robes wrapping them around you like a cocoon of warmth and safety. "And if my robes aren't enough, I'll take you to bed and keep you warm in my arms there."

The certainty in his words brought the comfort you so desperately needed, and you knew in that moment that no matter how long the night was or how hard the rain fell, you would be safe and loved in his embrace.

As the raindrops melded with the distant city lights, painting shimmering streaks upon the Coruscant skyline, a stillness enveloped you. Nestled against Obi-Wan's chest, his steady heartbeat resonated within you, grounding you in this moment of serenity.

"Obi-Wan?" You whispered hesitantly, not wanting to break the fragile peace they shared.

"Yes, my love?" He replied softly, his breath warm on your hair.

"Thank you,"

"Always," He said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You didn't need to say anything more - words were insufficient when it came to expressing the bond you shared. At that moment, you knew, without a doubt, that you could weather any storm together.

Laughing softly, you shook your head. "I must seem like such a mess to you."

"Never," Obi-Wan assured you, a tender smile gracing his features. "You are the most beautiful, strongest person I know. If anyone is messy here, it's the galaxy for daring to challenge you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his fierce loyalty, feeling your heart lighten at his words. "You really do have a way with words, don't you?"

"Only when it comes to you," He admitted, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "For you, I'd move mountains and cross galaxies."

“Move mountains?”

"Oh, yes.” He paused his lips brushing yours, “We are bound together, through the Force and through our hearts, till the galaxy lies in ruins and our histories are long faded to less than cosmic dusts, you will have me."

Damn tears welled in your eyes as you leaned into him, feeling the truth of his words echo through your being. You pulled him into a kiss, it was nothing that might set loose the fires of passion, not yet, that always came later. Obi-Wan was as selfless a lover as could be asked for, and you knew the look in his eyes, this would be one of those nights where he would guard you and carry you to the edge of gentle and exquisite bliss and in no hurry. He and he would do it again, and again and again until neither of you could keep your eyes open.

Together, you sat wrapped in each other's embrace, letting the rain wash away your fears and doubts. And for the first time in a long while, the darkness that had threatened to consume you began to recede, replaced by the warmth and light that Obi-Wan brought into your life.

The Clone Wars were over, and though the battles never truly ceased, it was time to start living.

@burnthecheshirewitch @pickleprickle @split-spectrum @heyhawtdawgs @bad4amficideas @hereticpriest

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