#This shit harder than resisting the urge to make new blogs

[stcrxfire]

((Damn bro I forget how hard it is to undie once you die on tumblr for a bit))

[tendous-whore]

Ur naoya fic had me shook tho, I literally had to make a new account to send this request bc my mutuals on my main have no idea I’m into smut fics lmao (Dw tho I’m not a minor, age is in my blog desc.).

If you’re accepting requests…nanami and breeding kink pls. I love how the fandom has like decided that he has one lol, I see him as the type to *seem* vanilla buuuuuut he can actually be rough (everything is consensual tho). But that dom side of him only comes out when he’s sleeping with someone he makes a commitment to. Sorry for rambling. I’m looking forward to whatever you have to share next!!

you are the first person to send me an ask so far (which are ALWAYS open btw) so you have no idea how much I smiled when reading your message 🥺

when i woke up to read some jjk fics today, I was so shocked at how many people liked my naoya x reader!!!? it’s so weird that people enjoy my work, especially since it’s my very 1st explicit fic!

ANWAYS nanami is one of my fav characters, aside from naoya, for reasons other than both of them being goDAMN SNACKs😤 so definitely will dedicate a more in depth story for nanami later on. but! your request gives me the perfect opportunity to share a little bit of my own take on him hehhehhehe

so enjoy!! <3

nanami + breeding

the embodiment of “gentleman in the streets, freak. in. the. sheets.”

with his job, he hardly has the time to indulge in relationships, so he’s pretty lax in the bedroom at first. just goes with the flow, ya know

but the longer you stay, the more comfortable he gets when he realizes you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

but nanami doesn’t rush to pull out the whips and chains, he’s gradual when it comes to sharing his interests with you in the bedroom.

until he isn’t.

so when the two of you are alone, and the doors are locked, the nanami in the day contrasts the man he is at night.

nanami is already dominant in all aspects of your relationship, to some degree. but it doesn’t compare when he has you crumpled, completely submitting beneath him, or bent over his knee after a long day of dealing with your shit

he’s more cutthroat than the first time you two had sex. yea, he has a soft side too but when the mood is right, he knows which to bring out

so when your spread for him, accepting everything he gives, how can he not indulge in all he wanted with his pretty little thing?

the act of pumping you full drives him wild, and at times in need, it keeps him going, until the next time

and on top of that, nanami definitely gets off on the size difference between you and him, and shows

when he purposefully pushes on your stomach, feeling the outline of his bulge, when you fold underneath him without resistance

don’t even get me started on how he loves to take you ugh

when he has you locked in a mating press, unable to move and just take. take. take.

probably likes it even more when he’s done his research, knowing how much more likely you could get get pregnant with his cum when he’s plowing into you

the thought alone is so dangerous. but that’s why he likes it. hehe.

Nanami is diligent with the way he works your body, he’s mesmerized every detail down to the bone like the back of his hand. He knows when he pushes you further into the bed, forcing himself deeper than before, how full he makes you feel. Your body is so honest when he does, how the way your legs tense and shake and your tummy bulges when he thrusts at that one angle.

It is a sight that has him breathing faster, and his tongue dipping out to lick his lips. He’s hungry, a thirsty and dying man before you. Feeling the way your walls squeeze him, coating his lower half in a layer of slick feeds him bit by bit, but the urging desire to already fill you up has his hips stuttering.

But right now, he wants to savor this. Savor the way your body lays beneath him, your mouth slightly ajar, hair tangled between his fingers as you cried with pleasure. You looked so pathetic with the way you choked on air, your hands pressed against his chest as you took everything he threw your way.

That’s why Nanami loved you. It wasn’t easy to submit yourself to someone, but you did, allowing him to give you all that he wanted. You were good for him, so good and so pretty. And prettier when his thrusts would finally come to a stop, when his body would pull away from your battered figure, his face pulled down and his eyes focused and just watch.

Watch the way your ass trembled, your body wracked with an uncontrollable shake as you came down from your high, better than the one before. And he’d groan, the deep guttural hiss audible in the quiet room that smelled of sex when finally, his cum slowly leaked from your twitching whole.

And Nanami smiled, his eyes brighter then before when his fingers pushed it all back into your cunt, carefully gathering every drop and slowly fucking his seed into you again and again. And he’d tell you in that sweet voice of his so quietly.

“what a waste.”

“it’s not enough.”

“one more time.”

as he takes you in bed, promising that the next wave of euphoria will be it for tonight. That your walls will finally taste nothing but of Nanami, his scent etched into your skin. But you know better. Once Nanami has had a taste, he can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’re crying for him, begging for his cock to stuff you full and breed you stupid.

so when you’re nearing you end and Nanami grows sloppy, his thrusts more frantic then before, he palms your stomach. His fingers trace the outline of his cock, dragging in and out at a delicious pace, his hand digging deeper and deeper until your writhing under his grip. It stings, but when his fingers press harder and harder, it forces him to hit that one spot that has your breath stuck in the back of your throat and thighs aching.

“gonna breed this pretty little pussy.” He breathes.

“til’ it’s full and heavy.”

He’s rational, logical and very decisive. But when he is high off of the adrenaline and pleasure that’s pumping through his veins, Nanami silently hopes that his cum will bleed into your womb, that your pill won’t repel his seed. That somehow, by some miracle, you miss your period.

And if you don’t?

Then the next time, he’ll look forward to doing it all over again.

[ladyblogger-margie]

Perfectly Timed Rainbow

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Summary: Sam and Bucky take a trip to a canyon for the view and a surprise. 

Warnings: None, this is sappy fluff. 

Word Count: 972

a/n: This was written for Writer Wednesday and Jey’s Pride Celebration Weekly Writing Challenge: Week 2. Check them out and support your local writers! 

MY MASTERLIST

Sam followed Bucky out of their pickup truck and headed towards the ridge of the canyon. Bucky had been quiet the whole trip to the canyon from their crappy motel, but that wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary for him this early in the morning so Sam didn’t really put much stock in it. 

“So, what do you think?” Sam asked his boyfriend. 

“It’s…” Bucky started, “It’s massive.” 

Sam struggled to keep his snort to himself. Bucky’s tone was full of awe and Sam felt his lips slip into a soft smile. Sam had been to the canyon before, many times in fact, and while he never failed to appreciate the splendor of the view, seeing it through Bucky’s eyes, as someone seeing it for the first time, was a whole new experience. 

“Wanna step a little closer?” Sam asked, gesturing closer to the edge. 

Bucky hesitated, “Is that safe?”

Sam raised his eyebrow, “You’re not telling me you’re scared of heights?”

Bucky snorted, but didn’t meet Sam’s glance. 

Suddenly Sam remembered the whole, Bucky fell from a train and nearly died and then spent the next 70 years as a brainwashed assassin for the bad guys. He wasn’t exactly as comfortable with heights as Sam was. 

Sam felt at home, free in the sky, so much so he had hoped it would rub off on Bucky, but he hadn’t had any luck so far in their relationship. 

Sam reached out to Bucky with his hand, “Hold my hand tight. I’ll protect you.”

Bucky’s face relaxed into a lopsided smile as he accepted Sam’s hand, entwining their fingers. Then Sam led them closer to the ridge to soak in the view. They watched the sun break over the ridge in comfortable silence. 

They watched as the dark grey clouds gathered and rolled closer, totally unconcerned about the impending storm. Sam pulled out his phone and played their song through the speaker and pulled Bucky into his arms for a dance. 

They swayed together, nothing fancy, just holding each other loosely as their song played, enjoying the weather, the view and the company. Bucky nuzzled his head into the crook of Sam’s neck as Sam pressed his lips to Bucky’s head. 

The song ended and Bucky placed his hand against the soft skin of Sam’s face and with the cool metal of his thumb, stroked across his cheekbone. Sam’s hands were wrapped around Bucky’s waist as they looked into eachothers eyes. 

Sam’s hand trailed along the waistline of Bucky’s jeans. 

“Too bad we’re in public, huh,” Sam teased. 

Bucky chuckled nervously, and Sam squinted at him; sexual innuendos never made Bucky nervous. Sam’s hand continued to casually trace along Bucky’s jeans. His hand trailed across the edge of Bucky’s front pocket and stopped on something unexpected there. 

Bucky’s face flushed as he saw Sam’s face scrunch up in confusion. 

“Shit,” Bucky muttered. 

“Is that?” Sam asked without asking. 

“I kind of blew the surprise, I’m sorry,” Bucky said as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small red ring box and held it closed in his hand. 

“It’s okay, I’m surprised,” Sam said, resisting the urge to tease Bucky who looked nervous enough already, promising to tease him mercilessly for the rest of their lives to make up for his mercy in this moment. 

Bucky bent down on one knee and popped open the small box to reveal a simple band Sam was surprised he recognized. His jaw dropped open and he was speechless as he looked down at the smiling, teary-eyed Bucky staring back up at him adoringly. 

“Is that?” Sam asked. 

“It’s your dad’s, yeah, Sarah gave it to me,” Bucky explained and Sam’s entire heart melted. 

Bucky really understood how much Sam’s family, and his history meant to him and the clear proof of being seen, and being known by the man he loved brought a lump to his throat and a smile to his face. 

“Sam Wilson, will you marry me?” Bucky asked, barely holding back the emotion in his voice. 

“Yes,” was all Sam had time to say before Bucky launched himself into his arms. 

Sam was being kissed harder and faster than his brain could register, but thankfully his body was faster than his brain anyway. His hands were tangled in Bucky’s long hair desperately pulling and grabbing in an attempt to be as close as possible to his fiance before he could even think of a reaction. 

Gasping for breath, Bucky pulled away from Sam who moaned with closed eyes. When he fluttered his lashes open, he watched as Bucky slipped the ring to his finger smoothly. He realized that Bucky must have had it resized and it brought the lump back to his throat. 

Bucky kissed Sam’s hand and sighed. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, suddenly concerned. 

Bucky smiled, “Nothing, I just want to stay in this moment forever, but I promised Sarah we’d call as soon as you said yes.”

Sam chuckled, “You were pretty sure I’d say yes then?”

Bucky shrugged, “Well, if you said no I told her she and I could run away together.”

Sam shoved Bucky playfully, “My sister is no consolation prize.”

“You’re right, she’d be a real step up,” Bucky teased right back. 

Sam pulled Bucky in for another long, deep kiss. Then he pulled out his phone and FaceTimed Sarah. Behind them over the canyon was a rainbow among the storm clouds which Sam thought fitting for the occasion. He was in a beautiful place, with the love of his life, ready to start the next chapter of their lives together. The presence of the rainbow was like a blessing of their partnership by nature itself. 

The whole thing was magic, and Sam felt as good on the ground as he normally did in the sky. 

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog​

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER PRE-GAME 9/30/2020: 30 MILES FROM NOWHERE/CONFESSIONAL (2019)

Spoiler alert. Or whatever. It’s not going to matter, you don’t care.

So, I've been away for a minute. Just about any reason to be away from Tumblr is probably a good reason, but I have an especially good one. I'm finally working on a "real" writing project, which demands, and deserves, all of my attention. My social media abstinence isn't just a matter of time management, though. Once I had a long term obligation on my plate, I became very aware of how the short term satisfaction I get from posting mindless rants was eating away at the fuel I have available for sustained efforts. When I wind myself up with a 500-1000 word blog post, it generates a lot of electricity, but I blow it all as soon as I experience the catharsis of posting it, and I'm further pacified by ego-stroking likes and reblogs. Not to sound like a sanctimonious luddite--I mean, I'm still here, after all!--but it turns out that the staying focused on the long haul has been surprisingly revivifying. In fact, I haven't been talking about my big fancy project for the same reason; I don't want to lose any of the juice I've been storing up by wasting it on the shallow pleasure of describing it. Also such things should probably be somewhat confidential until they're approaching the publishing stage, but I digress! There is an actual reason I'm saying all this, that has more to do with this blog.

(Don’t get all excited, I’m not doing EVIL ED right now, I just need a relatable image.)

As I got deeper into my experience of "real" film writing, I started to reflect on the meaning of my personal writing. Like, the point of it. I tend to write in a sweaty, compulsive, sadomasochistic haze, in which I'm sometimes hyperbolically generous, and sometimes--perhaps more often, unfortunately--as nasty as humanly possible. Sometimes the movies deserve it, when they're lazy, pretentious, or otherwise demonstrate an open contempt for the audience aka ME. Often, though, I'm just creating an opportunity to vent my generalized rage and frustration. That can be very entertaining for myself and (hopefully) my teensy-but-devoted readership, but lately I've asked myself whether there isn't some negative tradeoff for all this amusement. In this phase of my life, it's reasonable to assume I'll make more and more friends and acquaintances who create things I don't always care for, but I don't necessarily think they deserve to be abused for it. As much as I have a right to say whatever I want, technically, I'd be embarrassed if I were caught just jacking myself off by making fun of their work in public. And more to the point, I don't necessarily want to contribute to the growing atmosphere in which people feel more afraid to try and fail, because the public so commonly misidentifies sarcasm and mean-spiritedness as intelligence and superiority, and that form of petty darkness spreads across the internet a lot faster than a movie can reach a wider audience. After all, I'm in the process of potentially turning myself into one of those well-meaning failures right now. I could stand to be a little more deliberate about how I speak, and about what, in general.

My father is an art critic, and once in an extra petulant moment, teenage-me asked him in an accusative tone what he thought the point of his profession was. He replied calmly that he wouldn't publish any comment that he didn't think the artist could make use of somehow. I don't know if he always stuck to that policy, but the thought sure stuck with me.

So anyway, over the last few months I've been giving myself a bit of an attitude adjustment, through a combination of personal reflection, and hard work on something meaningful/not for the internet. I've been feeling all proud of myself and shit, but today reminded me that any path to enlightenment is always marked by setbacks, doubt, and temptation. For today, in complete innocence (or at least a melange of innocence and ignorance, as I very much invite this type of problem), I managed to watch TWO (2) movies about an academic film-cum-psychology project, focused on a gang of college buddies who inevitably reveal what bad people they are under the unique conditions of the project, and then the project turns out to be run NOT by its presumed-dead originator, but by the originator's even-crazier lover. It's amazing how particular something can be, and still be utterly obvious and cliche. In my defense, I really tried to turn the second movie off, because it was...just instantly terrible, but the seed of suspicion had taken root--is this randomly selected movie ACTUALLY EXACTLY THE SAME AS THE PREVIOUS MOVIE?--and I just had to find out if this could be true. I suffered, deliberately, for another hour and a half, to confirm my awful hunch. I don't know how I would have felt if I had turned out to be wrong (better? worse?), but I don't have to worry about that now. Now I just have to worry about my overpowering impulse to be as ugly as possible about what I have personally subjected myself to.

(The completely deceptive poster for our not at all witchy or eerie opening feature.) 

In need of a passable time-waster this afternoon, I put on 30 MILES FROM NOWHERE. Released in March of 2019, Caitlin Koller's claustrophobic black comedy feels oddly like a product of 2020. A group of estranged, middle-aged college pals of the BIG CHILL ilk--which one of the characters calls out, out loud, just so ya know--come together for a fallen comrade's funeral, only to find themselves trapped in his widow's increasingly creepy cabin in the woods. Said comrade was driven to suicide by the failure of a psychological experiment he conducted that plunged its subject into madness, and if you don't realize right away that the obnoxious and unstable cast are the new subjects of their not-quite-dead friend's renewed project, then you're firing a lot slower than 24 frames per second. The dialog is often decent, aiding a handful of funny, natural performances...but it's hard to forget that you're just waiting for the conspicuously crazy widow to reveal that the "unexplained events" in and around the cabin are part of a controlled attempt to get the guests to devolve into their worst selves, which isn't such a difficult task considering the undesirable state they all arrive in.

It just made me ask myself, what was the point of this? Why do people make movies that are entirely predicated on the shock of the twist, knowing that if the twist isn't so shocking--or is baldly obvious from the start--then the whole experience just falls apart? Why not hedge your bets with a little more depth, or purpose, or style, or really anything more reliable than a smug attempt to prove that your script is smarter than your audience? Even if you do manage to pull off this dubious accomplishment, it reduces your movie to something like the experience of having somebody jump out of a closet and scream in your ear to "get" you. I've always felt concerned that if somebody ever tries to "get" me like that, I might just automatically punch them in the face. But anyway, whatever shred of good will this movie could have accrued with its plucky performances is blown away by the final insult, when the cops arrive to clean up the inevitable bloody mess. The responding officers are hilariously unimpressed and unsurprised by the byzantine scheme that has resulted in a shocking act of violence, because the cabin's "guest book", which our heroes all filled out, was actually the signatory page of a complicated waiver form granting full permission to the hosts to, like, do whatever the hell they want to everybody. Presumably this shit just goes on all the time, leading the local law to shrug off anything that happens to or because of the dumbassed lab rats who frequent the cabin? I dunno. I mean, what can I say? ACAB, I guess!

At the time, I managed to resist the urge to take to the internet and decry the crimes of this lame-o party joke. I really don't like the sensation that a movie is just trying to trick me into thinking something that isn't true. But, this isn't, like, an affront to cinema. People make annoying, below average movies all the time, and maybe you kinda have to, if you eventually want to make better movies. I imagine myself in the shoes of the people who actually put some elbow grease into this production, having to wade through the rantings of internet ghouls like myself while they're trying to see how their efforts are paying off. Making a movie is probably a lot harder than I think it is.

But that's part of the point I'm heading toward. I'm always amazed by people's willingness to pour huge amounts of energy and capital into something to which there is ultimately very little point. I mean, I have bad, unoriginal, boring ideas every single day of my life. But I almost never DO any of them. I have a hard enough time convincing myself to just get out of bed in the morning, let alone devote blood, sweat, and money to deliver unto the world material evidence of my personal mediocrity. I can't imagine thinking it would be worth it, for myself or the unfortunate people who are subjected to my project, to actually execute on my bad ideas. I'm being judgmental, but honestly, I don't even know if my attitude makes me better or worse than someone who accomplishes the task of completing and selling a movie that's mainly a waste of time. Movies are so complicated, and realizing them requires the consensus of so many people, that it's sort of incredible that there are people capable of making one that doesn't have a powerfully compelling motivation behind it. People who are able to do such a thing obviously have something that I don't, and it isn't just "consideration for the audience."

So, I could probably stand to be more forgiving--or just, less eager to absolutely flay someone alive on my dumb little blog because they so opened themselves up to my arsenal of elaborate insults. But like...not all the time. Sometimes, a movie really fucking asks for it, and in revealing itself to me, it has effectively signed a waiver giving me patent freedom to do whatever I want to it. CONFESSIONAL is the latest movie to give me such a gift. After the final credit rolled in 30 MILES FROM NOWHERE, I looked for a little palate cleanser. As little as I like movies that put their single egg in the motheaten basket of a "shocking twist", I also have a problem with what I identify as canned theater. Not that I think all movies have to be lavish productions, but I think they should try to do something that is natively cinematic. It's very rare that I'm impressed by anything that is literally all talk. So, I went in search of some more familiar form of trash to help me recallibrate, and trash is definitely what I got.

(Me crying over my own bad decisions.)

To be fair, I kind of should have known that I was in for a challenging experience. The 2019 found footage thriller CONFESSIONAL is more or less based on the "confessional" part of sleazy reality TV shows, isolating each cast member in a soundproof stall so they can spill the rotten contents of their guts. Unfortunately, I spotted a review suggesting that the movie succeeded, against all odds, at remaining visually dynamic despite the unchanging scenery, and I was intrigued. The reviewer was correct, impressively; the monotony of the coffin-like environment with its dark foam walls was the least of my concerns. Other problems superseded that threat, immediately. The plot concerns a group of college pals who come together to remember a recently deceased friend--a filmmaker who expired mysteriously while completing a psychology-tinged project in which she recorded all of her friends' most shameful personal secrets. Now, somebody else has taken over the project...someone who "has never been identified", according to an early title card in this movie-within-a-movie (EVEN THOUGH THIS PERSON WILL BE EXPLICITLY IDENTIFIED AT THE END OF THE MOVIE SO LIKE WHY), but who seems likely to be the decedent's ex-lover...who continues to expose their subjects' most shameful secrets on film. I mean, what the fuck? Did I somehow manage to pick a second movie with almost the exact same plot??? I couldn't believe it. I didn't know if I could take it. My prospects only got worse when the cast showed up and started talking. I tried to turn the movie off. I backed out and walked away from it, twice. But I couldn't leave it alone. I had to know if it was really the same movie.

CONFESSIONAL concerns characters who are contemporaneously in college, which actually goes a long way to making everything worse. Each of these walking cliches is connected in some way to Amelia, a film student whose mysterious death has created a campus scandal, leaving shattered hearts and lives in its wake. The living have each received a blackmail-flavored invitation to speak about the deceased in a tiny "confessional booth" somewhere on campus, where, predictably, they find themselves locked in until they confess whatever they know about Amelia, and their classmates. I don't know why practically every single movie about young people has to be so miserable, but this is one of those. I assume that it has something to do with the fact that youth is simultaneously so desired and so ignored. People in their teens and early 20s are so sexually coveted, yet so easily dismissed as individuals, that we wind up with all this media that panders to them relentlessly (or at least, panders to the legions of ticket-buying perverts who enjoy watching them prance around), without almost any consideration of how they actually think and act, and look. Movies like FAT GIRL and  WELCOME TO THE DOLL HOUSE may be accused of their own form of pandering, a venal form of voyeuristic schadenfreude, but at least they reflect something of the awkwardness, isolation, and incompleteness of adolescence; something more than the dissociated, pornographic fantasies of adults who have long since forgotten what it was like to be powerless and ignored, or desired by people who don't even like you.

Not that CONFESSIONAL is supposed to be a work of grim realism, but it is most definitely rooted in a fantasy about college life that makes its contrived, message-y plot a lot harder to take. With almost the sole exception of "the nerdy one", every single character looks like a Bratz doll, oozing an exaggerated indecency that belies the movie's pretentious insistence on addressing the sex & gender Issues of the Day. What you get is a really good example of what happens when millennial characters are modeled, not on any actual millennials, but on other forms of marketing that are aimed at millennials, which are themselves just based on other preexisting youth-targeted commercials, et al ad nauseam. Even setting aside the deliriously slutty wardrobe choices, makeup appears to have been laid on with a trowel, coating each actor in a thick creamy layer of spackle that only makes any scars, pits, or other evidence of individuality look utterly bizarre. Accordingly, everybody preens, pouts, and generally behaves as if they're about to take off their clothes, which might be a huge relief given the profusion of chafing, cheapo mesh and straps they're laboring under.

So, ok, not every movie can have a great costume department, but the dialog here is a perfect match for the disastrous aesthetic decisions. Actually, this is the real reason I almost walked out on CONFESSIONAL. If I may ramble briefly, without substantiating any of my broad-ranging claims: Sometime in the late 90s/early 00s, horror cinema seemed to suffer a degenerative slide away from genuine thrills and chills, and into a version of the genre that is best characterized as the Slutty Halloween Costume approach. Any sense of existential dread, revulsion, or bodily vulnerability was widely replaced by a cutesy, Hot Topic-y preference for fast fashion and sex appeal, in which bloodshed more facilitated an informal wet teeshirt contest than any real fear induction. Horror's new mall goth look came with an equally shallow, boring verbal affectation: a sullen, sleazy, tooth-sucking sarcasm, that ushered in a new era in which, instead of making fun of the scummy coked-out dialog in porno movies, we now expect everybody to just talk like that, because it's hot. There's probably a line to be drawn between this unfortunate development, and the boneheaded real-world trend of identifying "sarcasm" as an important personal selling point on dating sites, but I won't try to prove that here. For now, I will just say that as soon as I heard the CONFESSIONAL characters start to speak, with their sneering, insinuating tones, with the vocal fry, with the head wagging, the jutting jaws, the smoldering gazes, the juvenile dragging-out of horny grownup words like de-bauch-er-y...I almost lost my nerve. Listening to these little creeps hissing and spitting for 84 minutes is a lot like being hit on by some barfly who continues to bludgeon you with his hot breath and corny lines without ever noticing that you've thrown up into your pint.

Uh, anyway. So what actually happens in the movie. Why would anyone ever allow someone to record video of them revealing the ugliest, most embarrassing parts of themselves? Especially a kid, for whom popularity and reputation are often a matter of life or death--literally and specifically, in the case of this story. The flimsy reason is that the late filmmaker, Amelia, was the most awesomest girl ever. Everybody loved her, because she was so sweet, and so smart, and so cool, and so nice, and so deep, and so original, and so talented, and so sexy, and just like, the bestest most perfectest girl in the whole wide world. N.B. "The greatest of all time" is, perhaps counter-intuitively, a really bad quality that makes for really shitty, boring characters. For better or worse, Amelia is rarely on screen (and when she is, she's no Laura Palmer, frankly), so it's up to the viewer to just sort of imagine a type of person who could make you act against your best interests on account of you just like them so much. After all, so many of the characters were obsessed with her in some way, that it's like they're here to help you clap your hands and believe in this seductive, compelling part of the movie, that just isn't actually there on the screen. The anonymous antihero behind the confessional booth scheme slowly extracts from each character the selfish, destructive behavior that in some way contributed to the tragic loss of the most amazing person of all time--and part of the result is, if not a very interesting excuse for Amelia's death, then a story so wacky that I really wish they had centered the movie on it, instead of on the tawdry soap opera we're locked into. Even if that imaginary movie had been really bad, and it probably would have been, at it would at least have been entertaining.

Part of what leads up to the death of Amelia is the existence of a secret school fight club, led by a stereotypically sleazy gender studies major, named Major, who is out to prove men's inherent superiority. The club is called CFB, or Cock Fights Back, which is somehow a garbled pun relating to cock fights, and Trump's famous line of "locker room talk": "grab'em by the pussy" > "pussy grabs back" > "cock fights back". CFB is different from your ordinary fight club in that the fights are always between girls and boys, and the boys are always blindfolded, in order to prove that a fully-abled female is no match for even a handicapped male. To complicate things, a new designer amphetamine is gaining popularity on campus, called "odds-on", meaning that it makes you the odds-on favorite in your CFB fight. As awkward as that is, it also seems that men are never the guaranteed winners of these fights, which makes you wonder why Major insists on continuing to host them. As much as I would have preferred to watch a stupid movie about this stupid idea, I'm stuck instead with a movie in which Major is such an aggressive MRA because he's secretly gay, and he thinks that hating women is a great way to hide that...as if that isn't what we all openly suspect about aggro MRAs. Secret gayness is a big part of this movie, involving multiple characters, although it amounts to very little other than the perpetuation of some stale, harmful cliches about how unfulfilled homosexual urges lead to suicide, sexual abuse, and murder. CONFESSIONAL is just as reliant on this grim vision of gay life, as it is on its weirdly obtuse discussion of drug addiction, for the suffocating sense of self-importance that it uses to try to elevate itself above its porn-y trappings. None of the movie's hot button issues are given any real thought, but are only dragged through the mud to create the illusion that there's a point to all this, thus relieving the film of any sense of innocence that could have made its condescending sleaziness forgivable.

Admittedly, I can't really remember all the details of the film's tortured intrigue anymore, even though I basically just saw it. A lot of its meandering revelations just left me thinking, "Why did I need to know that? Why should I care?" I do know that about half way through this ordeal, I became really anxious about whether it would turn out that CONFESSIONAL did NOT have exactly the same plot as 30 MILES FROM NOWHERE after all, and I put myself through all this for nothing. But no, I was right to begin with. The wonderful Amelia's ethically dubious film project has been picked up by the unhinged lesbian character who loved her so much she wanted to become her, and killing Amelia and usurping her confessional project was apparently the best way of doing that. I guess exposing all the dark, violent secrets of all these tangentially involved characters was just an added bonus, or whatever. Ultimately, this ugly, ignorant PSA about something-or-other only deals itself further damage by relying so heavily on the potential of its clumsy twist to blow your mind, which it does not at all.

So that was it, that's how I burned a whole afternoon allowing my mind to implode-not-explode under the ponderous force of TWO (2) movies about exactly the same exhausted cliche that is still being peddled by certain pretentious assholes as fresh and exciting, and beyond the capacity of the audience to anticipate. There's probably a whole slew of other movies that employ this overly familiar "surprise", but I don't have it in me to dig them out of my long-suffering brain. Feel free to contribute in the comments. For now, I must prepare myself for the ordeal of Blogtober, during which I will *hopefully* choose my screening selections and words more thoughtfully than I have in previous years, when this blog was motivated by just as much abject misanthropy as these movies, which do nothing but willfully insult the audience's intelligence. Maybe today's detour into degradation will help me go forth toward more additive experiences, having purged several lungfuls of meaningless venom from my system, and this season will bring with it more interesting, provocative posts than the last. Or maybe not! In any case, I promise to keep trying my hardest to make it funny.

PS I actually love both FAT GIRL and WELCOME TO THE DOLLHOUSE. I’m “just saying”. 

[bittysvalentines]

Going for Gold

To @allmylittleflaws

From @effyeahzimbits

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Dex/Nursey

“Will you fucking quit typing? I’m trying to sleep here.”

    Nursey glanced up from the white glare of his laptop screen. The plane was mostly in darkness, but he could see his teammate’s golden eyes glaring at him from across the aisle. They were surrounded by the soft snores of other members of the United States Men’s Hockey team, and none of them had been disturbed by the clacking of Nursey’s plastic keys. He was pretty sure Poindexter just had it in for him.

    Nursey couldn’t blame him. Ever since that match a few months ago where the Rangers played the Islanders, the budding rivalry between the two teams exploded to new heights, and Poindexter seemed to carry that grudge off the ice too. Nursey still wasn’t entirely sure what had kicked it off - something about the Rangers’ goalie and a wayward puck sent by an Islander’s D-man. Either way, a fight of epic proportions ensued, resulting in both teams nearly sacrificing their entire benches to the sin bin.

    Nursey had been on the other side of the rink at the time, but he soon pelted over to defend his goalie. He’d only gotten halfway when he was suddenly tackled by Poindexter and sent colliding with the ice. It was a defensive tactic used to keep the pair of them out of the scuffle, but it was enough to raise Nursey’s hackles. He only managed to throw a couple of haphazard punches to Poindexter’s face before he was being dragged away by an official and that was that.

    Or so Nursey had thought. Fans of both teams expressed their delight at the spectacle all over social media, and it wasn’t long before videos of the match went viral. ESPN highlighted his little brawl with Poindexter, and before Nursey knew it, his Twitter account blew up with notifications. False stories about some feud between the two of them spread like wildfire across the Internet, even though Nursey had never even said two words to the guy. Still, it felt harmless enough to Nursey, and he even joined in on the fun a little, pinging a few chirpy tweets Poindexter’s way. The other D-man didn’t seem to appreciate it though, even going so far as to tell one reporter brave enough to ask about it that Nursey needed to “grow the fuck up and start playing decent hockey.”

    Nursey took offence at that. He took pride in his game and loved playing for the Rangers. However, he was strongly urged by PR to refrain from retaliating and the spat was left as it was. The two teams weren’t due to meet for another month or two, but that was the least of Nursey’s concerns. Not long after the fight he’d received confirmation that he had been chosen to play for the United States in the 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing. He’d been ecstatic, that was, until he saw the name of another defenceman on that list. William Poindexter.

    He’d tried not to worry about it too much. That was easier said than done though when practice sessions finally rolled around. It was a tight team, containing top players from all over the country and captained by none other than Kent fucking Parson, and Nursey was honoured to be a part of it. But working with Poindexter was tough. There was none of the smoothness Nursey had with his defence partner at the Rangers. Poindexter seemed to play by his own agenda, working against Nursey rather than with him. No words were spoken between them, but Nursey could see the contempt in his partner’s eyes every time they passed each other. If nothing else, it at least brought out Nursey’s competitive streak and made him play harder. And they must have been doing something right, because the Coach had placed them on the starting line together.

    And now came a couple of weeks of hardcore hockey with the possibility of medals resting on his broad shoulders. He was excited, genuinely over the moon crazy kind of excited. But he was also worried. He didn’t want this weird spat to affect his game, and he also didn’t want people to make out it was worse than it actually was. He never had anything against Poindexter before all of this kicked off, but if he wanted to cause trouble while they were out here representing their country, then Nursey wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen. But for now, he was going to keep his head down and play good hockey.

    “I can’t sleep,” he murmured in response to Poindexter’s snapped words. “I never can on planes.”

    “So do something else. I can’t sleep with that racket in my ear,” Poindexter argued, nodding towards the laptop.

    “Put earphones in then or something,” Nursey suggested. He couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. Poindexter’s tone was starting to get his back up.

    “What are you even writing?” Poindexter demanded, leaning in his plush seat to try and get a glimpse of Nursey’s screen.

    Nursey glowered and tilted it away from him, instantly on the defensive.

    “None of your fucking business.”

    “Are you writing poetry?” Poindexter asked in what definitely sounded like a sneer.

    “I said it’s none of your fucking business!” Nursey snapped, slamming the laptop lid down harder than he meant to.

    “Hey!” A voice thick with sleep called over from a few rows away. “Both of you cut it out or I’ll have you run burpees ‘til you puke.”

    Nursey bristled. The Coach was pissed now, and it was all because Poindexter was too precious to try and sleep with a bit of noise. Nursey clenched his jaw and physically turned away from the other defenceman. If he had to look at his stupid freckly face any longer, he’d punch it. He folded his arms in a huff and glared out of the window instead. There wasn’t much to see except expanses of thick, fluffy dark clouds but he concentrated hard on them, counting the rare glimmers of stars that glinted through. Thankfully, he managed to fall asleep.

    He didn’t know how, but he was signed up to share a room with Kent Parson. He’d met the guy once at a benefit before practices started, and other than a suave “hey how’re you doing?” (to which Nursey blushed and stammered over his words like a dork), they hadn’t spoken. At practice Nursey could say with confidence that Parson was a solid captain. He took initiative, looked out for his team members on the ice and got shit done. But off the ice and in a dorm room in the Olympic village? Nursey didn’t know what to expect.

    “Hey. You wanna see pictures of my cat?”

    Okay, so it wasn’t that. But hell fucking yes Nursey wanted to see pictures of Kent Parson’s cat. He huddled next to Parson on his squeaky, scratchy mattress and peered over his shoulder at his Instagram. The cat was a huge fluffball of a thing with massive green eyes and a sparkly collar. If it was pink it would probably look like candyfloss with ears. Nursey wasn’t usually a cat person, but he thought he’d make exceptions for that one.

    Parson didn’t stick around long. After ten minutes of cooing over the cat pictures, he announced he was meeting a friend and sauntered off, the epitome of cool carelessness. Even the way his hair flopped seemed effortlessly nonchalant. Nursey thought he had wandered off in the direction of the Canadian athletes’ dorm, but he couldn’t be sure. As long as Parson was back before the game tomorrow, it really wasn’t any of his business.

    The dorm room seemed depressingly empty after that. It wasn’t very inviting to begin with, and after half an hour the dull, beige walls and stark sheets were suffocating. He shoved his boots back on and stowed his laptop under his arm, hoping there would be somewhere with a decent Wi-Fi signal and a good cup of coffee he could hang out at until team dinner. Most of the guys on his team had announced plans to nap, and Nursey didn’t want to disturb them in the hopes of finding a companion. In the immortal words of his Rangers captain – never wake a sleeping hockey player.

    The Village was huge. He wandered past buildings that all looked the same, half following the multi-lingual signs and half following other athletes. It was an icy February, and he was grateful for the thick, padded duffel coats they’d been provided with. He hoped they could keep all the clothes they’d been given. It was pretty awesome wandering around with “Team USA” embroidered on everything. His mom was keeping a scrapbook too and he knew she’d love the Team USA dressing robe folded up on his bed.

    He turned a corner and halted in his tracks at the sight of the recreation centre domineering the horizon. Banners adorning its walls boasted a theatre and a cinema, plus sports halls and exercise facilities and even a spa. Making a mental note to check that out after dinner, he went on the hunt for coffee and Wi-Fi. It was like a maze inside. He bypassed the McDonalds and instead headed for the official athletes’ cafeteria.

    It was already bustling with people, all of them prattling loudly over the sound of scraping chairs and clattering dishes. Nursey had to take a minute to absorb it all and stop himself from getting overwhelmed. Breathing in check, he strode into the crowd. He emerged clutching the biggest takeaway mug of coffee he could find and a slice of cake the nutritionist definitely wouldn’t have agreed with. It was a bit harder to find a table, but eventually he located an empty one in a quieter corner of the room.

    He people watched and nibbled his cake while he waited for his laptop to load up. It was incredible really, seeing the sheer amount of people gathered to play a few sports. The atmosphere was electric though. Everyone was clearly super excited to be there and play for their countries. Inspired by their enthusiasm, Nursey’s hands were soon speeding over his keyboard.

    “More poetry?”

    Nursey’s fingers froze. Feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, he raised his eyes to see Poindexter standing in front of him, clutching his own bucket of coffee. No cake though. He was wearing the same Team USA tracksuit they’d all been issued, but Nursey couldn’t help noticing just how well it seemed to sit on Poindexter’s broad shoulders.

    “Blog post, actually,” Nursey replied, fighting to keep his voice cool. Poindexter’s tone hadn’t been snippy, but Nursey was still on the defensive.

    “Oh. Cool.”

    Nursey lifted a well-groomed eyebrow at him. Cool? Out of all the words that could have possibly tumbled out of Poindexter’s mouth, that certainly wasn’t what he expected. He wanted to document the entire Olympics process for his online blog to accompany his Instagram and Twitter reports, but he doubted it was anything Poindexter would be interested in.

    Poindexter shrugged, and if Nursey didn’t know better, he could have sworn he saw the faint tint of a blush underneath those freckles.

    “I saw your Twitter. You seem to write a lot.”

    Nursey blinked. Was Poindexter actually attempting to have a conversation with him? It was a bit awkward with the other defenceman hovering over the table like that, but seeing how nervous he looked was kind of cute.

    “Yeah. I majored in literature at college,” Nursey replied, taking a swallow of his coffee so he could do something with his hands. He couldn’t help bragging a bit. “Had a few poems and short stories published.”

    “Oh. That’s awesome,” Poindexter replied, his voice quiet but sincere. “I uh, I did computer science. A bit different.”

    Nursey nodded, managing a half smile. He was still a bit freaked out. Just this morning Poindexter had been snapping at him for typing and now he was striking up a conversation, albeit a slightly awkward one. Nursey didn’t quite know what to say to that though, and there was a minute or two of weird silence until Poindexter plucked up the courage to open his mouth again.

    “I wanted to apologise. For this morning. I was tired, and a bit nervous, and took it out on you. So uh, yeah. Sorry.”

    Well that was a turn up for the books. Poindexter was definitely blushing now, and Nursey wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that it was a good look on him. Still, Nursey wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and if Poindexter wanted to make peace then Nursey was going to take it.

    “It’s okay. It’s my fault too. I should have been a bit more considerate.” Nursey gave him another smile that was a bit more genuine this time. Poindexter seemed to grasp the mutual apology by both hands and nodded eagerly, his stiff shoulders relaxing with relief.

    “Okay. Cool. No problem. Well, I’ll uh, leave you to your writing then. And I’ll see you at dinner.”

    “Yeah. See you.”

    Nursey watched him retreat, still a little bit dazed about the whole thing. He wasn’t sure what had made the guy change his mind, but he wasn’t going to question it. Maybe all Poindexter needed was a cup of coffee and a couple of hours sleep. He hoped the wary truce would extend onto the ice too, but he’d have to wait until tomorrow to find out. Their first game was against the Chinese hosts in the early afternoon, and Nursey was keen to get his skates on and win some matches.

    Dinner was a quiet affair. The whole team was still exhausted from their long plane trip and exploring the Village. Nursey spent it sat next to a couple of vets who seemed to take him under their wing. He was grateful for their dogged insight and listened avidly to their stories playing for the USA over the years. He couldn’t help his eyes drifting over to Poindexter from time to time, but the man kept his head down and ate in the corner. Nursey was starting to think he was just a quiet kind of guy.

    After they’d eaten the team split up again. Parson was the first to suggest hanging out at the bar, proposing they met up with a few of the Canadian and Russian team members. Nursey found it a bit weird to think he’d be playing against a couple of guys from the Rangers who just happened to be Canadian. He could easily imagine all the chirps that were going to be shared back in their home locker room in a few weeks’ time.

    He declined the offer in favour of hunting for the spa he’d seen advertised. He was a sucker for a good steam room and a massage and hoped a little swim might help him sleep well. He returned to his room a couple of hours later feeling sleepy and content. Parson wasn’t back yet, but Nursey didn’t expect him to be. He stripped to his underwear and climbed into bed, flicking off the lights as he went. His hair was still damp, and he teased the curls with his fingers as he squashed a yawn and scrolled through his phone all at the same time.

    He’d published his first Olympic blog post earlier that day. It had already been liked and retweeted hundreds of times by his loyal fans and his mom. Since the whole Rangers v Islanders fiasco, he’d turned off his social media notifications, but he still liked peering through the comments and mentions. Occasionally he would come across a heartfelt message or something that would make him laugh and he liked letting fans know they’d touched him in some way.

    He trawled through the well wishes and memes, liking a few tweets and responding to a couple. A little banner appeared on the top of his phone to let him know WillDex96 has liked his most recent tweet. Nursey paused. Poindexter never liked his tweets. And his most recent tweet was the link to his blog post. Before his brain could even process it properly, his phone pinged with a direct message.

    WillDex96    I liked the coffee too

    Well, that wasn’t much of a conversation starter. Nursey had barely even mentioned the coffee in his blog, but it meant more that Poindexter had actually read it. Nursey smiled to himself and settled into his cushions a little more. He hesitated over the keys, then thought fuck it.

    DerekDoesDefence  Do you want to grab one together after the game tomorrow?

    It was a bold move, and Nursey wasn’t sure it was the right one, especially as it seemed to take Poindexter an age to reply. Nursey just knew that he liked Poindexter’s awkward yet endearing demeanour and wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little more off the ice. His attractiveness was just an added bonus. Just when he was about to give up hope, a reply popped into his inbox.

    WillDex96     Yeah okay. See you tomorrow.

    DerekDoesDefence   Goodnight

    He didn’t get a reply, but he didn’t really expect one after that. Poindexter seemed to be a man of few words. Nursey put his phone aside and settled down, curling up and pulling the sheets around him. He couldn’t help the big, cheesy grin. It wasn’t a date, but he felt like he always did when he’d arranged one. It was probably a bit silly to even consider these things with the Olympic games right on top of them, but the thought made him giddy nonetheless. He fell asleep thinking of freckles and auburn hair and big hands.

    The game was incredible. Nursey couldn’t remember the finer details, but he remembered the fanatic roar of the crowd, the bite of wind on his cheeks, the burning in his lungs and his calves as he raced across the ice. Every player in both teams seemed wired, like they had caffeine in their veins as they powered through each period. Playing with the Rangers was one thing but playing for his country set his blood on fire.

    They won. It was a tight match and China played incredibly well, but USA just seemed to dominate the punk that little bit more and it made all the difference. Nursey’s team left the arena elated, cheering with the fans and rough housing as they made their way back to the Village. Most of the team headed to the recreation centre to burn off energy. Nursey followed them, feeling giddy all over again. Poindexter walked beside him, though he only greeted him with a subtle nod.

    The team went their separate ways inside. A few of them headed towards the sports halls while others went to the spa for a post-game massage. Nursey watched Parson spearhead a small group into the bar where he could see a few of the Russian hockey players. Parson seemed to be friends with everyone, and Nursey didn’t know how he had the energy for it all. He and Poindexter headed towards the cafeteria, which was a lot quieter than yesterday.

    They were silent as they retrieved their coffee. Nursey was pulsing with pent up excitement, but he couldn’t bring himself to string a sentence together. Poindexter had looked damn good out on the ice. His flushed, freckled cheeks and determined brow had made Nursey’s knees weak. It felt a bit weird looking him in the face now. They managed to grab a table by one of the huge windows, and it was a while before either of them found the courage to say something.

    “That was a good game,” Poindexter eventually said, dragging his eyes away from the plastic tabletop and onto Nursey’s face. The half grin he managed made Nursey’s stomach churn.

    It had been an awesome game, and Nursey wasn’t sure how it had happened, but something had finally clicked between them. They had worked in tandem out on the ice, analysing each other’s movements and tactics to form an unpassable duo. Their breathless teammates had slapped them both on the shoulder with each successful blockade, and the coach had been singing their praises in the locker room. The budding partnership had left Nursey as ecstatic as the win had.

    “Yeah, it was. I think we finally played well together, Poindexter,” Nursey grinned at him over his cup.

    “Finally,” Poindexter agreed with a snort of amusement. “And call me Dex. Anything else just sounds a bit weird.”

    Nursey hid his grin behind his cup. He was probably making more of it than necessary, but the permission to call Dex by his hockey nickname just proved they’d made some progress. Fuck, Nursey wanted to kiss him. He took a big swallow of coffee instead and burned his tongue.

    “You think we have a decent shot?” He asked to mask his pained grimace.

    “Too early to tell,” Dex replied with half a shrug. “Especially with Canada’s line up. Zimmermann’s been on fire lately.”

    Nursey hummed his agreement and licked the foam off his latte, only just avoiding making a mess. He looked up to find Dex’s eyes on him, his face bearing an odd expression. He swallowed and looked away quickly, hoping he hadn’t just made a fool of himself. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d humiliated himself in front of a pretty boy. He scrambled for something to say.

    “You read my blog,” he said after a moment, figuring that was a safe enough topic.

    “Oh. Yeah. It was fun to read. I wanted to make sure you were telling the truth about everything,” Dex grinned.

    Nursey blinked. Was Dex…flirting with him? Or was it just a chirp? Though he’d once heard somewhere that flirting and chirping were just variants of the same thing.

    “Um. Yep. Total truth,” Nursey replied eloquently. “No lies here.”

    Fuck, he was such a dork. It made Dex snicker though, and he counted that as a win.

    “I uh, I ended up going through your stuff,” Dex admitted, his eyes flitting away to a poster announcing the daily specials. “I really liked it. Especially the articles you did for your college magazine.”

    Nursey lifted an eyebrow at him and tilted his head slightly in confusion.

    “Those are all about bi erasure and hetero bullshit in the locker room,” he said slowly. To his surprise, Dex blushed so hard even his ears went red.

    “Um, yep. They uh, really resonated with me. Especially the…especially the bits on internalised homophobia.”

    Oh.

    Nursey wasn’t quite sure how he managed to keep his mouth shut and his face straight. It wasn’t quite an admission, but it was as good as. Following Jack Zimmermann’s epic reveal of his sexuality after the Providence Falconers’ Stanley Cup win three years ago, only a few other NHL players had been forthcoming with their own. Parson had been one of them, and Nursey had been open regarding his as soon as he was signed with the Rangers last year. Things weren’t perfect, far from it, but the sport had been making progress and that was good enough for him. He could understand Dex’s reasons for being tight-lipped though, and he took a minute to think of something that would affirm everything without being too direct, for Dex’s sake.

    “Well I’m glad they helped some people. That’s what I wanted, you know? To help bring a little peace and support.”

    Dex nodded and a silence fell between them again. Oddly enough it wasn’t awkward, and Nursey allowed his tentative friend the time to process it. He wondered if he should ask if Dex wanted to talk about it. It sounded like he had a couple of issues that caused a little friction and Nursey hoped he could shed light on a few things. Before he could open his mouth though, Dex looked up and caught his eyes.

    The look Dex gave him made Nursey’s heart leap into his throat. There was a spark of something between them that wasn’t there before, a spark that made the hair on Nursey’s forearms stand on end. He swallowed slowly, his mouth suddenly dry. He wanted to do more than kiss him. For a long, agonising moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Nursey threw caution to the wind.

    “Do you…want to come back to my room?”

    Dex nodded so fast his neck creaked. Nursey’s face split into a huge grin, the arousal already pooling in his gut. He shot to his feet in an instant, knocking his coffee cup flying. The lukewarm liquid splattered the table and both their clothes like watery paint.

    “Jesus fucking Christ, Nurse.”

    Dex’s laugh was quiet but carefree and obviously entertained. He threw a wad of paper napkins over the puddle and left it at that, leading the way towards the dorms. Nursey scrambled to catch up, nearly tripping up over his own feet. He ached to grab his hand as they powerwalked out of the centre, but he held himself back. They bumped shoulders along the way and the heat from that alone tented Nursey’s loose tracksuit pants.

    The sex was mind-blowing. It was messy and hot and frenzied and had Nursey howling like an animal. Dex was an attentive lover, his mouth and fingers desperate to explore every inch of him. Nursey learned more about Dex in those couple of hours than he had in the few days they’d known each other. It left him wanting to know more, wanting to know everything. They lay curled up in bed together afterwards, flushed, breathless and blinking away stars. Nursey was suddenly very grateful they both lived in New York. It made the possibility of finding out just what made William Poindexter tick all the more enticing.

    “I think I’ll write a poem about this,” he announced, his voice loud in the thick, sex-laden air.

    Dex smacked him with a pillow.

[hellreads]

Hi! Can you suggest some good immersive fics that will make me feel all the feels? Even better if they're series! Thank you I love your blog!!

hi there sweetie, thank you for loving this blog, lemme love you too!💕💖✨ hmm this is tricky, to ask me of all people for immersive fic recommendations because I always immerse (to me reading something I enjoy and immersing in it makes me feel like I’m an actress playing the part so whatever genre it is watch me get into it 100%) but I’ll try and make a list of fics one per member, where I immersed myself through and through (shit this is harder than I thought, btw WII stands for why I immersed lol ~ list under the cut) 😅 | 🍒

➴ Kim Namjoon❥ Let the Villain Win by @lemonjoonah​➴ Author/Yandere!AU | Author!Namjoon x Agent!Reader | One-Shot➴ Kim Namjoon, famous author and your childhood friend has been keeping a secret from you. His new book treads on such dark themes that he’s finding it difficult to write. Excited by the prospect of a sinister plot you offer him a piece of advice, “Let the villain win…”➴ WII: I love Misery by Stephen King plus its movie adaption and LTVW gave me reverse Misery vibes, I know most people wouldn’t want to put themselves or immerse into stories like this but the adrenaline rush of being in MC’s shoes? delicious, I felt like as soon as Namjoon’s plan came to fruition my body astral projected to see him in all his yandere glory.

➴ Kim Seokjin❥ In the Bleak Midwinter by @pcyheartgirlx​➴ Idol/Prostitution!AU | Idol!Seokjin x CEO!Reader x Idol!Chanyeol | Series➴ We’re all whores, we just sell different parts of ourselves.You own a multi-billion dollar company, servicing the biggest names in kpop, in more ways than one. Under the name “Starlight Catering”, you, your best friends, Damon and Maya, and your hundreds of workers provide stress relief for idols.You have partially retired, not because you didn’t want to, but because Chanyeol was your muse. He was all that you had time for and all you needed. Until Jin came along.So what happens when you mix fire and ice?You get smoke and all the lines are blurred.➴ WII: tbh starting this fic I never really knew what I was getting into, all I saw was Kim Seokjin and I was sold, I was never a Park Chanyeol stan before reading this but I ended up being one, there’s a lot going on in this series but to immerse and be in a love triangle between the two men and feel the push and pull plus intense passionate emotions they’re willing to shower you with will tear you apart, but don’t worry there are two doors at the end of the story you get to choose between Jin or Chanyeol. 

➴ Min Yoongi❥ Dead Leaves by wrienne➴ Detective/Infidelity!AU | Detective Inspector!Yoongi x Homicide Detective!Reader x Teacher!Jimin | Series➴ In which you (reader) are a homicide detective about to face the biggest hurdle both of your career and life.Married to probably the kindest but most boring man you’ve ever met and living in a town where nothing ever seems to happen means life for you is dull. Dull enough to drive you crazy with boredom and dissatisfaction. However, life changes abruptly when your old boss retires and a new man takes his place - a man you used to love (and sleep very regularly with) more than a decade ago. Especially when your husband comes home smelling of perfume, you’re unable to resist your more carnal urges and dead women start showing up across the city with unnerving frequency.➴ WII: I have always had a thing for working in forensics, profiling people, investigating crime scenes, and basically any investigator/detective/analyst work and this story right here helped me get that feel because there are actual cases they work on here with vivid descriptions to help that wild imagination of yours *wink* + the whole infidelity affair is a mystery you’ll have to use your deduction skills.

➴ Jung Hoseok❥ Bad Guy by @sweetbunnykook​➴ Mob/Infidelity!AU | Mob Boss!Jin x Wife!Reader x Mob!Yoongi x Mob!Hoseok | Series➴ After a brutal attack in Hong Kong, your marriage with Kim Seokjin cracks as secrets begin to surface and a series of betrayals find their way into the veins of the Hidden Tigers. Although Jin’s devotion endures, in his own definition, the reality of being a mob wife may be too much for you to bear.➴ WII: this will put you in a rollercoaster ride of emotions there are actually three members here that will make things quite hard for you, but I have to say BG Hoseok is definitely one of my favorite characterizations of him, though there will be a push and pull of emotions once you get further into the story.. also, you’ll have to go through so much because immersing in this one will hurt a lot to the point where your heart is almost numbed.

➴ Park Jimin❥ Neighbors by @jkeuphoriadreamland​➴ Neighbor/Stalker!AU | Stalker!Jimin x Neighbor!Reader | Series➴ Finally achieving your successes in life you never expected the distraction that came with your new hot neighbor. He, however, had been trying to get your attention for a much different reason.➴ WII: hey it’s ya girl danger lover (my tag line lol), seriously immersing in this one will kinda make you wonder about MC and her choices as if Jimin cast a spell on her, there is this psychological manipulation he uses on her and it will drive you to madness because you will still bend to him and find him irresistible + the kinks here = wildt.

➴ Kim Taehyung❥ Clandestine by @ditzymax​➴ Assassin!AU | Assassin!Taehyung x Assassin!Kinsoo x BF!Jungkook | Series➴ As a professional assassin, Kim Kinsoo has many shrouded secrets in her life. Some of them she shares openly with her loving boyfriend, but there are other things he must never know➴ WII: now I know you’re probably wondering if it’s possible to immerse in fics with named OC? as I said I’m an actress who plays the part when reading and to immerse into the enigma that is Kinsoo is a wonderful experience, this belongs to the list of the intense fics I immersed into and if you’re the type to go all out when immersing no matter what genre or theme (taboo) the story contains you’ll enjoy the intensity of this one because you get everyone’s POV as you go through making you understand each character better and there is actual assassin work here if you enjoy the stealth way, you’ll appreciate Taehyung and Kinsoo’s work and the people that work for them.

➴ Jeon Jungkook (I’ll list five why not? I have read way too many JJK fics lol)❥ Right of Way by fringesofsanity➴ Infidelity!AU | Cheater!Jungkook x Cheater/GF!Reader x BF!Jimin | Series➴ In theory, things were simple: your best friend was Jungkook’s girlfriend while your boyfriend, Jimin, was Jungkook’s best friend. In reality, things weren’t always that simple. And mutually exclusive.➴ WII: if there’s one story I will never shut up about? it’s this one, I always recommend this to friends, this is the perfect depiction of having a taste of your own medicine in fic form, immersing in this one will make you fall for Jungkook and hope for your own ending, but this won’t sugarcoat anything for you and that’s what I love about this story, but tbh I still think of my own ending every single night. sighhhhh.

❥ When You Least Expect It by @johobi​➴ F2L!AU | BFF!Taehyung x BFF/GF!Reader x BF!Jungkook | Series➴ You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.➴ WII: okay, me putting this under the list for Jungkook must expose which side I’m on but that’s not the reason why this is under his name, it’s here because I love his WYLEI characterization so much and if you’ve been reading this series too, you’re probably head over heels in love with the boy too? and immersing in this, feeling all the ways he changed MC’s life and the way he loves her? stop it i’m crying right now. T_T

❥ Only You by @sweetbunnykook​➴ Stalker/Lovers!AU | Stalker/BF!Jungkook x Noona/GF!Reader x Ex-Fiance!Namjoon x BFF!Seokjin | Series➴ Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.➴ WII: ahhhh to be Jungkook’s Noona, I love immersing in this because there’s so much intense passion here, and if you allow yourself to fall into the role you will understand the statement that Love is Blind that people will overlook anything their lover is involved in because so what if they did this or that? they only have hearts in their eyes, the manipulation here might get to you irl, like wow, seriously this was so brilliantly written, how can you not love Jungkook and give him everything right?  

❥ DNA by @btssavedmylifeblr​➴ Dystopian/Breeding!AU | Stud!Jungkook x Cow!Reader | Series➴ Jungkook’s career is in jeopardy when he begins falling for a woman he’s supposed to impregnate.➴ WII: the futuristic feels? amazing description and details? unique universe? if you’re up for those things this is one amazing read you should be immersing yourself into, I’m so in love with the way this was written, Bee and her galaxy mind will challenge you into painting all of her words in your head and you’ll have an advanced futuristic universe where babies are manufactured and modified to your liking but if you mix feelings into the process and what do you get? ugh, this is just brilliant!

❥ The Fitting by @noona-la-la-la​➴ Idol!AU | Idol!Jungkook x Stylist/Noona!Reader | Series➴ The younger Jungkook has a workplace crush on you, but you let the flattery get to you and make a proposition you can’t take back.➴ WII: who can ever say no to idol!jungkook? prepare to immerse into this tension-filled romance with Jungkook, laced with complications of keeping a secret “relationship“, so this is what happens when fire meets ice at work, and this being an idol!au will give you a glimpse of how they probably keep their affairs hidden from everyone and it can be stressful, full of jealousy, and fights.

➴ OT7 ❥ Void by @btssavedmylifeblr​➴ Space!AU | Space Crew!OT7 x Space Crew!Reader | Series➴ You are the only female crew member on a 12-year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.➴ WII: BEST.OT7.FIC.EVER. so why not immerse yourself and be the only girl in their universe right? this has so much sexual tension since they only have you sis, but it’s fun to get all the attention tho there will be stressful and trying times, the boys will compensate *wink*wink* 

❥ A Hundred Percent Human by wrienne➴ Hybrid/Host-Club!AU | Hybrid!OT7 x Human/Owner!Reader | Series➴ In which you (reader) are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate.After your estranged mother passes away, you’re left with an unwanted will and the heavy burden of responsibility. Although you’re desperate not to stray from the familiar path you thought was laid out in front of you with a fully human boyfriend who loves you more than anything, your life is thrown upside down once more after another unfortunate incident (that may or may not have to do with said boyfriend) occurs.Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of.Set in the not too distant future where infertility has become mankind’s greatest issue. Will contain sexual content.➴ WII: what’s an ot7 fic without tension? majority of the boys are dog hybrids with certain classes and MC has no fucking clue how to deal with hybrids let alone seven of them with two of them being special classes/cases, this will be a little slow-paced as the story starts more on their background/history as hybrids and they’re still getting comfy with one another, which I think is a great way to pull readers in and grow attached to the hybrids.

❥ Moth to Flame by @bang-to-the-tan➴ Vampire!AU | Vampire!OT7 x Human!Reader | Series➴ Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions are rising and the brothers are getting hungry.➴ WII: how can we pass up on vampire!ot7? this is a brilliant story that will have the same haze effect on you as the reader, I immersed hardcore on this one and I’m like who am I? it’s weird when you get affected and get all the phantom feels from reading alone you know? and this will affect you so much I swear to god it’s you literally transported and astral projected into this universe and it’s so pleasing but also frightening to be in the middle of two covens.

❥ Physcom by @teawithkpop➴ Dystopian/Sex Worker!AU | Idol!OT7 x Physical Companion!Reader | Series➴ AU where live-in Physical Companions are provided to k-pop groups so the members can relieve their sexual related stress and tension - around their busy schedules, of course. You are one such “PhysCom”. However, complications arise when the BTS members start harboring romantic feelings for you. Feelings you’re not sure you can reject with any believable amount of conviction. Such a scandal could result in getting both you and them fired and exposed, ruining any future career options for all parties involved… it turns out the “com” in PhysCom might as well stand for complications.➴ WII: this has an interesting take on being Bangtan’s “companion” and to immerse into this one and watching everyone catch feelings and defy the rules for a chance at romance will overwhelm you, you a mere “companion” now the object of their affection and they’re willing to do anything and everything for you even if it means risking it all. 

p.s. I suggest you go through my FICSHELF to view all of the stories I ever read so you get to choose the exact story you want to read, the shelf contains story links (Tumblr and ao3 if any) with summary, warnings, and more info about the fic (character role, genre, au, word count). 

[dyaz-stories]

Take A Chance on Me (Lemon)

The (smutty) second part to my one-shot on Inuyasha and Kagome meeting at a wedding. So, erm, yeah. Lemon ahead — please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with that stuff. Otherwise, I hope you’ll enjoy!

Tagging: @eternalnight8806-3 @noviceotakus-blog @keichanz

Inuyasha wasn’t too sure what was going on. Sure, there was the alcohol in his system, clouding his mind and senses at least a little, and Kagome was drinking as well, but he was pretty certain it wasn’t all that was happening. There was something else, in the way she tilted her head, in her smile, and in those beautiful, beautiful blue eyes of hers.

But there sure as hell was something in his behavior as well. In the growls that left his throat, which he knew was the expression of the most animalistic side of him and in the way he reached out to touch her. It was probably a bad idea, and at any other time, he would probably have stopped himself. He’d be back into his role as the lawyer. Distant, careful, and a complete asshole, according to most people.

Yet right now, his hand was running on her arm as he listened to her talking about her job. Apparently, she worked as a teacher in a somewhat specialized school that received demons, half-demons and humans, including humans with spiritual powers. He noticed, of course, the way her breath hitched and her pulse quickened as he touched her, and how her smell slowly shifted into arousal.

Everything about her was overwhelming. Her scent, obviously, becoming more and more clear to him underneath her perfume as the night went on, but also her voice that was surprisingly soothing to him, and the feeling of her skin under his fingers.

He grinned when she interrupted herself at a new movement of his claws that had oh so slowly made their way up her arms to reach her neck.

When her eyes plunged into his again he could clearly read the hunger, the want in them. They soon moved from his eyes to his mouth, and his grin widened just a little.

“See something you like?” his voice came out as a low growl, probably betraying his own state more than he would have wanted to, but fuck, she didn’t realize just how enticing she smelled.

She smiled and nodded, biting her lower lip seductively, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. She was the only thing he’d been paying any attention to for a while now, but suddenly there was nothing else. Nothing but her and how much he wanted to get a taste of her.

She was the first one to lean in, wrapping his tie around her fingers to pull him closer, earning herself another growl from him; one that was a little more dangerous this time. She met his eyes again, briefly, and then, fucking finally, filled the gap between them, pressing her mouth against his.

He closed his eyes, immediately taking the opportunity to slide his tongue in her mouth, receiving a small whimper that he swallowed as her fingers traced his jawline to end in his hair, making him groan again as she pulled him a little closer. His own hand traitorously went for her waist, desperate to get her closer, to have her body against his, to—

She pulled away and he stared at her for a second, confused and a little worried — had she wanted this? Had he gone too far? — but the playful smile she shot him as she hastily stood up, grabbing his hand in hers and starting to walk away, forcing him to follow, reassured him.

If that hadn’t done it, the heat he could feel practically radiating from her and the always more intense smell of arousal coming from her definitely would have.

They crossed the entire room and it was only midway that he realized where they were heading, making him understand what exactly was going to happen. His mind started to run wild then, getting an already rather awake part of him to twitch to attention. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on her and what they were going to do once they’d be inside this bathroom, which’d better be fucking free by the way, or else he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

Probably try do drag her to his car.

Thankfully, said bathroom was free. He didn’t bother looking around to check that no one saw them walking in there, because quite frankly, at the moment, he couldn’t have cared less.

The second the door was closed and locked behind them, he was on her. He easily lifted her up on the sink, careful not to hurt her as his large, clawed hands grabbed her thighs, but from the way she shivered at the touch, she certainly didn’t mind.

Almost immediately, she grabbed his hair while her other hand pulled on his tie again, pressing him against her again and letting a needy, pleading sound escape her mouth when he kissed her again. He smiled against her.

“Careful. Wouldn’t want people to hear us.”

She chuckled against his mouth while her hand quickly started unbuttoning his white shirt, her hands running on any bit of skin she could find and immediately setting it on fire.

“Oh, I’m not loud. The question is, are you?”

Fuck. If he’d thought he couldn’t get any harder, he was clearly wrong.

“Is that a challenge?”

She bit her lip as she wrapped her legs around him, getting him close to her and then efficiently rolling her hips once, managing to get an inarticulate growl out of her.

“It’s a promise,” she whispered, pulling on his tie again to kiss him sensually, her tongue dancing with his and testing his fangs with curiosity.

He let out a growl as he pushed her dress higher, roaming his hands on her thighs, refusing to lose to her just yet, even if she was already driving him absolutely fucking crazy when she was barely trying.

His mouth left hers for her neck where he planted a few biting kisses, resisting the urge to suck on the skin and leave his mark there. They were still at her sister’s — his ex — wedding. She probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Not to mention, they’d just met, and even if he already felt fucking territorial, maybe she just wanted sex and to be done with it, though he found the thought to be highly unpleasant.

She certainly seemed to like the way his fangs grazed against their skin, if the movement of her hips was anything to go by, and it made him want to please her even more, to get to fucking move against him again. She was right though. Apart from the discreet moans that escaped her, she wasn’t particularly loud. Made him appreciate the sounds he managed to get out of her even more.

Grabbing his hair, she pushed him towards her mouth again, kissing him slower as her hands travelled on his body, tracing his muscles at a devilish pace, making him burn and yearn for more. Finally, her hand plunged in his pants, making him groan loudly as she stroked his length deliberately slowly.

“Holy shit, Kagome,” he breathed against her mouth. He didn’t what to ask for. Her, right now, or for her to just fucking not stop, because he didn’t know how he’d take it if she did.

She gasped as he pressed himself into her a little more.

“Shit,” she mumbled, and he had a feeling she didn’t swear that often. Another time, she would love to take her sweet time teasing him — or to have him tease her. Would love to explore his body and that delicious chest of his with her mouth, would love to have him and those claws and fangs on every inch of her skin. But right now she wanted him.

Moving herself away briefly, she tried to wriggle herself out of her knickers, feeling grateful when he helped her, pulling her up with only one hand and carefully sliding them down her legs instead of merely tearing them into pieces.

He swallowed once they were out of the way. “Are you clean?” she asked him then. She knew demons and half-demons supposedly couldn’t spread illnesses and she was on the pill, but hey, better safe than sorry.

He nodded once. “Are ya…”

“I’m good, Inuyasha. I want you. Now.”

He smirked at her once more. “Your wish is my command.”

And then he entered her, slowly, giving her time to adjust despite how much he just wanted to be inside her right fucking now. She hummed quietly in approval, closing her eyes and throwing her head back, and the vision of her complete abandon just turned him on even more, which he hadn’t thought was even possible at this point.

She was wet and warm, so ready, feeling so fucking good around him.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, burying his head in his neck. “You’re… This… Shit, Kagome.” She laughed again, softly, wrapping one arm around him and pushing against the sink so she’d be able to move. As soon as she did, he came undone, his instincts probably the only thing that made him move in rhythm with her. Not that a bathroom was the perfect place for that kind of activity, but he wanted to make sure she got something out of this, that he made her feel as good as she was right now.

With a grunt, he pushed himself against her closer and she let out a slightly louder moan, which made him grin as he secured his grip on her ass, letting her ride him and control the situation mostly. He groaned again at a particular angle, and Kagome smiled, kissing him briefly before throwing her head back again, keeping her hips moving.

His eyes went to the mirror behind them, and it was the sight that made him almost lose it instantly. Her back moving, her messy hair, her red dress lifted up and having fallen from one shoulder, the mark he’d apparently left there despite trying not to… She was fucking beautiful. His. Even if it was just for now.

“Kagome, ‘m going to…”

“J-just a sec!”

Her voice was higher than before, breathier too, and he guessed that he was still affecting her quite a bit, even if she didn’t express it with her voice.

Finally, her body arched against him in silent release, her eyes closed shut. He pulled out, releasing mostly in the sink — would have been pretty troublesome for her to clean up in here — but then froze as she kept holding him. He wrapped his own arms loosely around her waist, making sure she could get away if she wanted to, and nuzzled his head into her hair, breathing her in, enjoying the mix of their smells more than he remembered ever doing before.

She took in a long, ragged breath, and left a soft kiss on his neck before pushing him away hesitantly, even if her hand didn’t let go of his shirt. She slid down from the sink with a grimace and stood on wobbly legs.

“You’re okay?” he asked, frowning.

She nodded, her cheeks bright red as she seemed to avoid looking at him. She clumsily pulled her knickers back up and then proceeded to button his shirt up again.

He stared at her, expecting something — anything — telling him what to think and what to expect. Rejection, if it had to be, but anything other than silence and her acting like… Like she cared.

Finally, when she arrived at his tie, that had been considerably loosened by their… activities, she arranged it easily, her eyes finally meeting his. She opened her mouth, clearly hesitant, and he found himself leaning in, kissing her again. She sighed softly, like she’d been waiting exactly for that, and she fisted his shirt, refusing to let go of him.

The kiss was slow, sensual, and the noise echoed in the bathroom, but it did feel like a spell had been broken, and soon Inuyasha was just well too aware of where they were.

“I… I should go first,” Kagome whispered, and he nodded, wondering what he’d been thinking exactly. That she’d— “But… I can, erm, meet you outside? And we can, er… Go…”

He stared at her in disbelief as she rambled, acting all shy again despite what they’d just done here.

“My place,” he offered, his voice raspy as his mind started travelling once more and dammit, not now. “I’ll follow after you.”

She nodded quickly and stepped out, giving him another smile that was just so full of joy that it made him feel all dizzy and shit.

He didn’t particularly believe in love at first sight, but it would have been just stupid of him to deny that there was something there. Something that made him wait in here just thinking about what had just happened, and, though as always, he tried to keep himself from hoping too much, about what was to come.

He was ready to go get her, take her home, and spend at least one wonderful night with her when he walked out of the bathroom.

Not to find her standing there.

Talking to Kikyo.

He tensed immediately, and when Kikyo’s eyes fell on him and widened just a little, he realized that they’d just been caught, by literally the worst person imaginable.

Shit.

“Really?” Kikyo simply asked, raising an eyebrow. “At my wedding?”

Kagome turned around and shot a desperate look at Inuyasha, clearing her throat hesitantly. “Well…”

She didn’t know what to say. Even if Kikyo was completely over him, which she could only assume she was, she had never taken too kindly to people taking away what was hers — and she tended to think that if something had been hers, it should stay that way.

Before she could find a response, Kikyo shook her head and rolled her eyes. She probably knew just as well as Kagome that they wouldn’t see each other again. And yeah, it was a bit sad, because they were sisters, because there probably should have been something between them, but it was long gone.

“Have a nice life, Kagome,” she simply said curtly, with maybe just a bit of disdain in her voice.

“You too, Kikyo,” Kagome murmured with a sadder tone. Kikyo nodded, and walked away, her high heels clicking on the ground.

Inuyasha walked to her, his arm hesitantly sliding around her waist, unsure of what their boundaries were at the moment.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.

Kagome sighed, but nodded. She was fine, even if she probably shouldn’t have been. She smiled at him. Yes, she was pretty sure she was right for taking a chance with him. “Let’s get out of here.”

It was his turn to take a chance and her, and he had no intention to waste it. So he tightened his grip around her, as if to reassure himself, to check that she was really there, and he did as she had told him.

He took her away.

For the night, and hopefully, for much, much longer than that.

[knightedwriter]

No Longer Human

To celebrate reaching 1,500 followers, I decided to do a mini series of the events following Alderon’s turning. This is the first part in what will probably turn out to be a long series, knowing how I write. However, it might help to read what I consider the prologue. This ask I did is also relatively important, though not necessary to read in the long run. I hope you enjoy!

[@kai-hogan​, @alittleyellowdinosaur I believe the both of you shouted that I should do this? Also tagging @lux-scriptum, @incandescent-creativity, @kclenhartnovels, @theprissythumbelina, @polapipo, @gingerly-writing bc I think you all would be interested. If you’d like to be added to the list, please let me know. If you want to be taken off, that’s alright too! I can also change which blog of yours I tag, if anyone wants me to.]

“Focus.”

“I am.”

“Then do better.”

Alderon gritted his teeth, jaw cracking with the pressure. Easing up a little, he closed his eyes and breathed in again.

The world burst to life around him: A tangle of scents, wild, colorful, and much too numerous to even begin straightening out. Alderon’s brow furrowed as he tried to focus in on just one, but it was like untangling a knot made up of thousands of different strands, all while someone kept adding and rearranging the strands each second.

Just as the others faded into the background, a new scent assaulted his senses, taking his attention away from the one he’d selected. The scrape of bone on bone—his teeth rubbing together—demanded his attention as well, the sound much more detailed than he was used to: The wet slip of his saliva as his teeth moved, the creaking of his jaw, the twanging vibration of his muscles, even. He never knew he made so much noise.

“Stop, stop, stop.”

Alderon opened his eyes and, realizing how tight his face had gotten, rubbed at his cheeks. “I do not understand how to do this.”

“Clearly,” Eliura said, eyes flickering to scarlet and then back to their startling blue. “You don’t make a good vampire.”

“Well excuse me,” Alderon snapped. “If I had a choice in the matter I wouldn’t be one.”

“Don’t fucking sass me. I said that to make a point.” She stepped forward, her fur-covered cloak swishing with the movement. “You think,” she tapped the top of his head despite having to stand on tiptoe to get there, “too much. It holds you back.”

“What, so I just stop thinking? Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You keep sassing me and I’m gonna rip your arms off and make you sit on them. Just shut up and listen. That’s what apprentices are supposed to do.”

Alderon resisted the urge to say that he didn’t ask to be her apprentice. He had no doubt her threat was real, and he really didn’t want to find out how fast his arms regenerated anytime soon.

“You don’t think yourself into tracking a scent,” Eliura continued, circling him. “You let it happen.”

“Helpful,” Alderon gritted out.

“Get used to it. This isn’t about memorizing a set of steps or about what you knew before. This is completely new. You’ll have to learn as a babe learns: by shitting yourself along the way.”

Lovely. Eliura’s vulgarity never ceased to amaze him. Charmeine had been the same way, always—

Alderon sobered a bit, back itching as he looked away. His throat closed, so he couldn’t reply. Just as well, given that Eliura was already irritated with him.

Eliura sighed. “Take a break. Clear your head.”

Relieved, Alderon walked over to nearest tree and sat at its base. He tried to lean against the trunk, but the slight pressure made his back sting, so he crossed his legs and bent forward instead.

“That cut still bothering you?” Eliura asked. She sat against an oak across from him, arms crossed, head back, and eyes closed. Alderon wondered how she even knew he’d readjusted because of his back.

He grunted, running a hand through his hair. The wound had barely healed, despite a full week of vampirism. Eliura had explained that it probably never would—at least not as it should. It would become a scar, if anything. Alderon was learning that such an “imperfection” was not unheard of in vampires, depending on how they turned. Given that his turning was particularly difficult—he shuddered to remember those feverish three days—he was lucky the scar was healing at all.

“You need more blood.”

“I don’t,” Alderon said swiftly. When Eliura cracked open an eye to glare at him, he hurried on, “I am not hungry. Besides, you said it would take a long time to heal completely.”

Eliura sniffed, obviously unconvinced. “Fine then. Take your shirt off.”

“What?”

“I’m going to check it. The least we can do is keep changing out those bandages.”

Alderon hesitated a moment longer before pulling off his shirt. His cheeks burned, and he kept his gaze fixed on the grass as Eluria stepped around him. She peeled back the bandages one by one, her touch gentle. It still stung. Alderon flinched as she pulled off the last of it; the dried blood had glued the cloth to his back, and ripping it away was like ripping off a piece of his skin.

Eliura pulled in a breath and let it out slow. “Still smells like silver.”

“Silver?”

“From the blade. It had to have been silver.”

“Oh,” Alderon murmured, thinking of a sword glinting in torchlight. He pushed the memory back. “Is that why it hurts so much?”

“No,” Eliura said dryly as she applied something sticky to his wound. “It hurts because it’s not healed.”

For once, Alderon didn’t have the fight to snap back. “Will it ever stop?”

“Hurting? Yes. It’ll always be sensitive, though.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s human flesh on a vampire body.”

“What?” Alderon said, twisting to look at her. “How do you know that?”

“It’s not healing the way it’s supposed to. I’ve seen it before. Some wounds are too deep for the transformation to change.” She started to wrap him up again. “Blood would help, you know.”

Alderon’s hands tightened into fists.

“You can’t avoid it forever.”

“I will not be a murderer.”

Eluria yanked on the bandages and Alderon yelped. “Then you will die! How many fucking times do I have to tell you? This is your life now. The sooner you get used to it, the better.”

“I did not ask for this.”

“Well too damn bad!” Eliura growled. She stalked around to stand in front of him, lips pulled back to show her fangs. “When I found you, you told me you didn’t want to die. This is how you live. You can’t go back. Just accept it.”

Alderon drew his knees to his chest and looked away. He hated how his lips trembled.

Eliura ran a hand down her face. “I took you on to teach you how to survive. The world won’t be kind to you. You need to let these…human morals go, or you’ll be ground into the dust.”

“I am human. I was. I am not going to just forget that.” Alderon glanced up at her, searching her face for some sort of understanding. “Why must I kill? Can’t I just—”

“What? Bite them and only take a little? You think people will just lay down and let you do that? You’ll leave a trail leading straight to you.”

“As if bodies do not leave a trail.”

“At least dead people don’t talk. Bodies don’t clue hunters in to what you look like, or which way you went.” Eliura crouched down next to him. There was nothing gentle in her eyes as she considered him, though she did lower her voice. “Humans will take your kindness and shit all over it the first chance they get. You should know this. You’ve seen it firsthand.”

“Don’t,” Alderon breathed, clutching harder at his knees.

Eliura paused, head cocked. "You’re young. I’m giving you an easy way to learn this. Better take it before you learn the hard way.” When Alderon didn’t reply, Eliura stood and walked away without another word, her bright red hair flicking almost dismissively at him.

Alderon dug his fingers into his knees, trying to ignore the incessant rumbling in his stomach. He was sure Eliura could hear it, too. Not that he cared. She may have convinced him to drink from the bodies she’d brought him after he’d turned, but that didn’t mean her way of life was the only way.

He wished Charmeine were with him. She’d make him smile and give him direction; she’d work with him. Instead he got saddled with a centuries-old vampire who’d long since forgotten what it meant to be human. What it meant to be new to this.

His heart ached as thoughts of Charmeine turned to the night he’d left his home for good. Luckily, Eliura’s voice cut through the memories.

“Rest time’s over. Let’s get back to it.”

[thesageseries]

End 2017 With Clarity, Enter 2018 With Intention.

So I was laying in my bed scrolling thru Facebook last night, and I came across this article titled “Seven Questions to End 2017 With Clarity and Enter 2018 With Intention.”  So I clicked it and the article was actually very insightful and asked really great questions.  I’ll share the link if you find yourself wanting to read it and use it for yourself by the time you finish reading this post...

After I read it figured it would be a good idea for me to answer these questions honestly, and share it with you all.  I’m undergoing an intense transformation and I’m beyond excited for the newness of 2018 and what I’m going to make out of it.  

So, let’s get to it:

1.   What was one of the moments I was most proud of this year?What does that tell me about what I want to spend my energy/time/money on next year?

My proudest moment was hosting my first event for my brand The Sage Series.  It was a spirituality workshop, the first of many, and I was discouraged because literally nothing was going as planned (virgo rising probs lol) but my friends kept motivating me and urging me to still have it and that’s what I did.  I’m so used to being behind the scenes or letting the people around me have their shine because I hate attention, but I can feel Spirit pulling me out from the shadows and fully showing my creative talents.  This shows me that I want to spend my time and money on further building my brand.  I want to promote and expand my network and gain exposure.  I want to be confident in my abilities.  And I will.  

2. Who really enriched my life this year in a big way? Who is someone I am wanting to get to know better in the year ahead? 

Honestly, it’s multiple people.  My tribe of sisters that I got closer with this year, K.B., Gabby, and Kee.  I found shelter within these women so many times and we all have bonded over so much. We inspire and empower each other, and I love it. I love them. It’s warming.  I am looking forward to getting to know my future life coach better in the year ahead.  And my therapist as well.  

3.   It was a year of resistance for many people. What did I resist most effectively? What did I surrender to?

I resisted the SHIT out of being consistent. In almost everything, mainly yoga and tarot.  I surrender to the fact that it’s time to level up on my discipline.  It’s time to do the work and worry about the rest later.  So, I surrender to growth.  

4. Who did I feel most jealous of this year? What is that person up to that I want to bring more of into my own life?

I honestly don’t get jealous of people, I admire them if they have traits I wish I had.  So since that’s what jealousy is, there’s a few people that I wish I was in the position of or had their drive.  One person is TatiannaTarot.  AMAZING woman.  I love everything about her and what she does. She’s organic and gifted as hell.  I follow her work and I just love how consistent and busy she is.  Even as a mom now.  I love it and I truly wish I had the ability to easily focus and get shit done in terms of tarot.  I want to travel and create.  Dassit.  

5. When was I most physically joyful in 2017? How can I get there more in 2018?

I was most physically joyful when I went to Myrtle Beach this past summer.  I went with the person I was dating at the time, and even tho it is over now, I appreciate the spiritual awakening that occurred for me, within me.  I opened up a deep layer of myself that I never share with anyone really, and it showed me what I truly need to work on internally and heal from.  I appreciate that moment, regardless of who it was shared with.  I can get there more in 2018 by getting the help and guidance I need, through going to therapy and digging into the things I opened up about and [I guess] embraced this summer.  The moon was full in cancer during that time too, so it was a lot of healing, or preparation for healing coming through.  

6. What is one question that you found yourself asking over and over again this year? What version of an answer are you living your way into?

“When are things going to get better/change?”  That was the overall question.  The words “change” and “better” rotated.  The version of an answer I’m living my way into is things will change when I make the decision to change them.  It’s that simple. I made it harder than it needed to be by ignoring instincts and not disciplining myself. On all accounts. Won’t happen in 2018. 

7. And finally, in honor of Krista Tippett’s beautiful modeling: What makes me despair and what gives me hope right now?

Failure gives me despair at the present moment.  Not being enough no matter what you do or what decision you make.  Going against my better judgement.  The choice to change all of these circumstances is what gives me hope.  The knowledge that there indeed is a light at the end of the tunnel and that more awaits me on the other side once I do the work of changing my circumstance and perspective.  My passion for growth is what gives me hope. I stifled the fuck out of myself this year.  

I feel lighter after answering these.  I answered these questions as I went along, no pre-writing.  This is leaving me more excited and inspired than ever to move on to better things and really grab life by the horns.  

Link to the blog as promised: https://onbeing.org/blog/courtney-martin-seven-questions-to-end-2017-with-clarity-and-start-2018-with-intention/ 

@greeneuphorias