#We're... lets just say we're not doing too great...

[forgottenwriter]

So, this is actually a cool jumping off point on something I've wanted to talk about for a while. This sort of opinion seems to float up fairly regularly in certain circles, and I wanted to address it a bit.

Not specifically the trans version referenced here, but the idea seems to surface in a lot of forms. I suppose it's natural. When you're the weaker party, when you're struggling just to stay together, when the whole world is against you, it's super tempting to think that your end goal is just kind of, to cut yourself off from everyone. To go off and have your own place in the world where you can be you and everyone who ever doubted, mocked, attacked or endangered you is just not allowed.

Thing is, it doesn't work. Not really. Like, I get the original post was more exaggerated than serious, but I wanted to hammer that in a bit.

What you're basically saying is ''I want to cut us off from our allies, no one is allowed in our community but us, and everyone who attacks us will be driven out.''

Okay, but who defines ''attacks''? Who gets to decide who is an enemy or not? You imagine some giant, peaceful community where everyone can just be happy, but will that actually happen or will you get a dozen different squabbling factions?

What about allies? If you cut them off, who is going to defend you? Yes, you can defend yourself, but the issue with being a minority is that there are more of them than you. Allies help balance that. Do you think people attacking you will be silent because you're isolating yourself or do you think they'll see it as a sign that they're winning and be bolder?

Suddenly, how are you going to deal with all of the new accusations - and there will be accusations - when you've cut the number of people willing to defend and help you by burning bridges to other communities? Even worse, over time, opinions of you will shift towards more negative things as positive interactions with you become less and less and people only remember the bad ones and the slander spread by people who don't like you.

Being interconnected with one another is hard, god knows, and it sucks when people who should have your back don't. There will always be issues and clashes between communities, even ones as closely related as the various trans sub-communities. But by burning bridges and cutting yourself off, you deny other communities the right to see and know the real you. You kill friendships before they form, you rob yourself of support and love you otherwise would have gotten.

You gotta mingle. Yes, it sucks. It's painful. It fucking hurts when it blows up in your face. But you can't let despair drive you into a little corner. When we come together, we can do great things, but isolated and alone, our communities are not big enough even really to survive the way we are now.

We need each other now more than ever. Think of it like this: there was a time, not even so long ago, that people would have killed to be where we are even now. There was a time when this day and age would have seemed impossibly different, and people would have wept just for the chance to stand in our shoes.

Yes, it's still far from perfect. Yes, we still have a ton of work to do. But we will continue to do that work, and we will continue to push that envelope, and we will come together even in the face of people who try to try us apart.

I promise that things are not always going to be how they are now. Just as long as we don't lose faith in one another. We're not done, and we have a long, hard road ahead.

But look behind us, yeah? The road to get here was long and hard too. And we walked it.

Hey, sepratism is bad actually let's not do this

Yes there are some transfemmes who are shitty to us, but I don't believe that's the majority by any means.

There are some transmascs that are awful to transfemmes as well. It goes both ways. I don't think it makes any sense to cut ourselves off from good people in our community because of some infighters

Let's not alienate our sisters over a few bad actors please. We need each other. Especially now

[chillinwithbyler]

Something that I truly believe the GA just won't understand is how much Stranger Things can actually teach you.

Like, we have a plethora of diverse characters and no two people are the same.

Will is a sensitive person, more so than ANY other character in the show. He cries, he likes to paint, and he loves EVERYONE even when they've hurt him. He's one of the characters who bears a lot of trauma, but he doesn't let it shape who he is. Will is DIAGNOSED with PTSD. God forbid he lets himself cry. He never gets angry at people because of what happened to him, and he always dismisses it if he's going through something. And his biggest problem is Mike 'We're friends. We're friends!' Wheeler.

Joyce is a baddie. She doesn't need no man on her shoulder to be a good mother. When Will went missing, she fought tooth and nail to bring him home even when EVERYONE, even her eldest son, was calling her crazy. She's a leader and she's a character who has so much willpower and doesn't let anything stand in her way.

At first glance, Jim is a fucking asshole. I didn't like him when the series was just starting out. But that's what makes it so good, because he wasn't an asshole for no reason. He lost his KID. And he was given a second chance with El. He can do it better this time and he's going to be there for her as long as he can help it. In season five, I'll expect them to be a separate team from the others. Which is what she deserves. She doesn't need to be with Mike to be an amazing character.

Nancy, Joyce, Robin, and Max are all GREAT examples of women who can lead without some MAN telling them what to do. El can be the same. What she needs is the chance to be independent and learn about herself. Mike can't give her that. She needs to figure that out for herself.

Billy was an asshole. Through and through. There was no excuse for him to be racist towards Lucas, even if he had a bad childhood. Just look at what Will went through, and he's still a fucking angel, so Billy literally has no excuse.

The amount of feminism that Nancy projects is INSANE. She doesn't listen to anybody and when she has an idea she GOES FOR IT. When something bad happens? SHE GRABS A GUN. When someone says she should do something this specific way, it's BULLSHIT and she does it her own way. When the kids are in danger, she puts herself directly in the path of danger.

Mike is one of the most complex characters in the show. He's a natural born leader and goes out of his way to save people. When he first met El, he didn't save her out of LOVE. He did it because he's a protector. Originally, he was going to send her back to the asylum and only let her stick around because she knew where WILL was. And that's what was important. Will. He was hellbent on finding him. In season five, I can GUARANTEE he won't be leaving Will's side. And the only time they'll be separated will probably be because Will is off his rocker this season and too busy fighting internal demons and disappearing all the time.

Because he's been reminded of what's important. And it's not El. She can protect herself. But we know Will can be vulnerable. He doesn't believe he's loved, and that's a good opportunity for Vecna to go after him. Only when he truly starts believing that he is loved will he find the courage to come into his own.

We have so many characters all with different backgrounds. We have mental health, domestic abuse, sexual assault, eating disorders, bullying, homophobia, anger issues, neglect, internalized homophobia, racism, and literal DEMONS FROM HELL.

But you're telling me the GA can't grasp something as simple as two boys falling in love? How emotionally dense do you have to be to be so ignorant?

If you're going to DNF the show just because of Byler, then I'm sorry but you smell like hotdog water and you've missed the entire point of the show. This is about not fitting in. Instead of the protagonists being some..chiseled jocks who are heroric and attractive, we instead have four weirdo nerds obsessed with a game. Four people who are smart as fuck and have been cast out from society and bullied for being different. Especially Will.

And the whole show centers around him. BECAUSE he's different. Growing up and feeling like you don't belong is one of the most difficult things I've ever had to go through. And as a fan of the show since the EARLY days of season one, I can't even begin to describe the happiness I feel when I see Will Byers.

He was not made for you. Will Byers belongs to the people who grew up as a misfit. He belongs to us who feel like mistakes in our own bodies and struggle keeping up with social norms.

Will Byers belongs to US. Not you.

If you have a problem with him because of Noah then I assume you're either a 12 year old who has spent too much time on a screen and not enough time touching grass or you're a 47 year old bald man who doesn't know what common courtesy is.

If you hate on Will just because he's gay then I'm sorry but Stranger Things is not the show for you. Try Riverdale instead. We do not want you here.

Stranger Things is not afraid to put homophobes and racists in their place. Troy pissed himself and suffered a broken arm. Steve got his face ruined and got a redemption arc. Billy literally fucking died. And they aren't afraid to put queers on a pedestal either. To make THEM the important characters. Instead of being sidelined, it's often the queers and the nerds and the people who don't fit in who are given the important roles.

And that's what Stranger Things is all about.

Like it or not, Will is an important character. He deserves this time in the spotlight. When Byler is canon in season five, don't say we didn't warn you. We've been trying to open your eyes since season two.

Byler is the perfect representation of what a HEALTHY and ROMANTIC relationship looks like. Two people are so alike and are quite literally color coded through the whole series and are just so painfully gay for each other it HURTS.

Mil*ven is the perfect representation of what an UNHEALTHY and TOXIC relationship looks like. It's full of arguments, no heart to hearts, NO mutual respect, gaslighting, lying, and literally just zero chemistry.

Over and out.

[filthyd0g]

Bicker, not banter

Plot: you and joost have been arguing non stop. when a storm causes you two to evacuate for the night, will you continue to argue? or will you two finally stop neglecting each other?

warnings: swearing, dry humping, not proofread

edited 6/22/2025 bc i was…let’s js say not with us when i wrote this

—————————————————————

Joost trailed behind you to the hotel elevator, his gaze fixed on you back, the irritation and the urge to argue with you still simmering just the surface. He fidgeted with his hands as you guys made their way up to the room, his jaw clenching as he fought back the urge to snap at you again

"This is just great. Spending the night at a damn hotel."

He muttered, the sarcasm in his voice almost caustic

Your apartment wasn’t an option tonight, since there was a warning to evacuate the Amsterdam area due to an extreme storm. You thought it would be nice to just go to a hotel and finally get along with the man you love. Wronggg.

“Oh im sorry, is it not enough that I took you to a nice hotel to get away from the storm we were prompted to leave from???”

Throwing your bag onto the bed, flopping down next to it, you look up at him with a caustic expression.

"Oh, now you're sorry? How generous of you."

He rolled his eyes, the sarcasm in his voice dripping with almost bitter irritation. The fact that she was actually right, that you had gone out of your way to find a nice hotel for you two to stay in... it only served to annoy him even more. He crossed his arms, his expression still tense and agitated

"Yeah, you've really made this whole situation great, haven't you?"

“Me?? All you’ve done this week is pick fights with me over stupid shit!!”

"Maybe because you're acting like this is some damn casual weekend getaway, instead of a situation that could get us killed?"

He snapped back, his frustration and anxiety reaching a boiling point. He couldn't understand how you could be so nonchalant, so calm... while he was a bundle of frayed nerves and panic. You weren’t any better. You’ve nitpicked everything he did all week. But for good cause. He almost blew up the damn microwave with a fork for christ’s sake!

“Well no thanks to you, we’re not dying tonight. If you panic and I panic, who the hell is going to actually get us out of the house??!”

The bickering was getting to be just too much for you, rolling your eyes as you searched through your bag for a bathing suit. You’ll be damned if you’re going to let Joost ruin this for you.

"Oh, so now it's my fault because I'm panicking? Because I'm scared of this situation we're in?"

He practically spat back at you, the last of his self-control snapping, the dam breaking, his emotions getting the better of him

"Maybe if you weren't so damn calm all the time, I wouldn't be the only one losing their mind here!"

“Oh cry me a river, Joost, seriously.”

As if you had a care in the world, you started to strip, slipping on the bathing suit.

“I can’t do this right now Joost.”

You grabbed your phone and started walking out.

“You’re fucking welcome for taking you here.”

With those last words, the door slams behind you. You left to go to the pool downstairs. Away from whatever storm Joost had brewing in his hormonal system.

He was lashing out, he knew that... but in that moment, he couldn't find it within himself to care.

Joost was left standing in the now-empty hotel room, the silence deafening. The moment the door slammed shut, he let out a frustrated shout, his hands clenching into fists as he paced back and forth across the room, his mind racing

He knew he had overreacted, knew that he had lashed out at you when you didn't deserve it... but damn it, he couldn't help it. He was terrified, and the sight of you being so calm and composed had just pissed him off even more

You on the other hand, were just starting to relax as you slowly dipping your body into the warm water. The pool was empty due to the fact it was about 12 am. The temperature seemed to ease that tension in your mind and body. Finally you’d been able to just decompress without Joost whining in your ear all the time.

He sat up, a determined look in his eyes. He knew he was probably being irrational, that he should probably just wait for you to come back... but the thought of sitting here, alone in this hotel room, was unbearable

He stood up, his mind made up. He didn't care that it was late, that he was only in his jeans and a t-shirt. He was going to find you, and he was going to sort this out right now.

The water gently lapped at your waist as you laid your head in your arms over the ledge, deep in thought. Was this how your relationship will continue?? Do you really want to spend your life fighting with Joost??

When he finally reached the pool, he let out a small sigh as he saw you. His irritation flared for a moment, but the sight of you... in just your bathing suit ... made his brain short-circuit for a moment

“Hey…”

he said while walking up to you slowly.

“Hi.”

Your voice was unpleasantly cold and calm. He didnt deserve the warm welcoming tone you usually had with him.

He shifted his weight slightly, his gaze still fixed on you. The irritation, the anger, the desire... all was still there, and he was trying hard to keep them all in check

"You uh... enjoying the pool?"

He asked casually, his eyes still roaming over your body, unable to look away

“Sure am.”

Your short responses upset him. He knew he was being an asshole, but he felt like you were doing this on purpose now.

“You..mind if I join you??”

With a shrug of your shoulders, Joost stripped down to his boxers, slowly slipping into the water next to you. He let his arms snake around your waist under the water, turning you to face him.

With hesitation, your head came to lay on his chest, the hair tickling your face ever so slightly. The contact felt foreign for a moment, considering all the fighting this week. But, it was nice to have some sort of …normalcy.

He let out a low sigh, his hand on her back continuing to trace soft, lazy patterns over your skin, his thoughts still in turmoil. Your own mind was warring between your desire for him, and your lingering irritation and frustration... but with him so close, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the former.

You shifted against him slightly, adjusting your position, his thigh sliding between your’s, your legs now intertwined in the water.

His thigh pressed firmly in between your legs made impossible for you to think about anything other than him and how good he looked in the water.

Soon you moaned softly, the feeling of him pressing against you, gently grinding against his thigh.

He raised an eyebrow, lowering his head to your ear.

“You’ve no idea how much I miss you, Schat.”

His own hips began to move, grinding his clothed cock on your thigh.

You gasped, you pussy continuing to grind against his thigh and pulls little moans and mewls from your throat. God you missed this, missed him.

“Fuck I can feel your clit rubbing on my thigh.”

His hands reached up to grab the under of your thighs, squeezing them as he continued to grind against you.

Your breaths got slightly heavier, your hips stuttering as you grinded on his thigh.

“Joost..”

Your moans echoed in the empty room, inching closer to your release until you just couldn’t take it.

“I’m so close..”

His lips left wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck.

You realized it’s been too long since you even had any remotely romantic moments, physical and emotional. You also realized you two should probably stop before you get caught.

Joost seemed to realize that as well when he felt your hips slowly ease from his.

The walk back to the hotel room was surprisingly peaceful, like everything that happened before sort of disappeared. But you knew it hadn’t. That’s why it got awkward once you two laid in the bed. You became distant again. You showered separately and didn’t cuddle or say goodnight.

But, as you felt yourself drifting to sleep, you heard his soft voice from behind you.

“I love you, Schat.”

He whispered those words into your ear breathlessly, as if some sort of apology for how the week had been going.

“I love you more.”

There was definitely more that needed to be said, but for now, you two were content for just a moment.

—————————————————————

Guys how did i doooo i chose to do this one instead of my og first fic i was in the middle of writing bc why not. I had to copy paste this from my word docs bc tumblr wasn’t letting me write and post it here:(

[justabardling]

More thoughts on Kpop Demon Hunters Under the thread but you know, spoilers so click with caution

Love the story itself, great concept and honestly strong execution on almost all levels.

The unique things Sony Animation keeps pushing with each of their movies is really great imo. Every movie from their animation division has done something unique with the 3D style and I love that!

The storyboarding and camera angles in this one is fire - there were so many shots that I had to make note of looking up later/hoping they show how they mapped that out.

Storywise, I like a lot of what they mapped out for what could clearly be a series of either movies or an entire season of a show. Yes, a lot of plots holes are left with that final ending sooo idk I am curious to hear from the director and writers about that. Seems a lot had to be done in a short amount of time BUT also I can't complain too much idk what to say the industry amiright.

Love the concept of rebuilding a Honmoon that's based in what the new Hunters believe in.

TBH some part of me is like 'that could have been a potentially interesting thing to explore as part of KPop idols required to live such certain lives/expectations/never shows flaws and these particular fictional KPop stars choose to literally rebuild the system they were brought into/allow Rumi and themselves to live as themselves. Idk I think it would track better with Golden! But I am also not a story writer so obviously a lot of things would have to be retooled for that.

Things I would love to see explored if they get a sequel/series

Rumi's past ofc - who is her dad/what went down with her mom and him and their group of hunters. Where is the other one?? If there's three and one died and one was left to raise her child...idk a lot to explore there.

Ditto how did Celine build Huntrix - do they just hold auditions until they find the right 'match'. I'm assuming less with voices and more with personal struggles - and maybe that's lost a bit with Cyrene anyways since she clearly bought into the older way of doing things.

Also on the subject of Celine - until we're told otherwise I'm going to assume she knew being on one side of the Honmoon meant you were fine bc that is a HELL of a gamble to take with your surrogate kid and knowing they're half demon. Like what if they sealed the Honmoon as 'golden' and Rumi was sent to the demon realm? Again it seems like that's a non-issue movie-wise.

Mira's family!!! We're told she was a problem child and a black sheep so if we get a sequel idk...Mira's brother potentially showing up?? Wanting to connect with a sister who he was never close with but sees her face everywhere?

Likewise - what is Zoey's family backstory, since it's clear in Golden she was a child of divorce - though something that I didn't see until a rewatch is that she's holding a Sunlight Sisters Record!

The tree?? with Celine?? We see it in Rumi's part of Golden and she has her emotional moment with Celine there so is something tied to that other than the grave?

Hope any sequels expand on Rumi's Demon power and yes in a fun way. If she can transport by smoke you KNOW Mira and Zoey are asking her to transport them short distances that are just a stupid abuse of powers. Rumi's like 'idk even know this works I don't want to hurt you guys' and they're like 'yeah we know let's just try it :)'

Rumi starts having this crisis of faith while fighting the demons and what they really are motivated by after she speaks with Jinu but also they are stealing people's souls so you know - maybe some kind of resolution on what happens to folks once they're down there (I'm 99% they just died?? so maybe coping with that in some way in a sequel)

Finally would love to see if they have Bobby either a) brought in on the demon thing and he just rolls with it or b) he thinks it's a new gimmick or c) DOES acknowledge that this is a Thing but also knows acknowledging it is WILD so he's just like 'Gonna ignore this and stay in my lane and do my job' while also knowing the trio is off fighting demons any time they're not on stage. Ngl when it seemed like Bobby was taken I was like 'YES' bc I love the dynamic of bff of some superhero trio needing them but often overlooked so like idk Netflix if you want a writer for a series please!! accept these notes but don't hire me Idk what the fuck I'm doing.

Idk more of the trio doing stupid things together but this movie showed the fun bits of them carbo loading and spa days so I would love more of that with them!!

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

So many great choices on this poll!!! If you're having trouble deciding what to vote for, I endorse any fics on my Elimetri rec list and my Non-Elimetri rec list that I made for fics from this past year 💗

Also HAPPY PRIDE!!! I know we're 2 weeks in but still 🌈🏳️‍🌈 In honor of the gay month, would my lovely followers consider helping out their local lesbian and throwing in some votes for women-centric and wlw-centric fics??? Even, dare I say...*soft gasp* wlw other than LaNichols?? I see a lot of mlm dominating this fandom, and of course I love them dearly (I mean! Look at my username!), but this fandom has such a rich and beautiful variety of sapphic pairings to write about, and the authors who do the thankless work of writing for the TINY wlw audience around here deserve love and recognition too!!! And the audience for CK wlw that ISN'T LaNichols is even smaller, so try to throw some love at the authors who bust they ass making some truly incredible sapphic works that maaaaaybe 1 or 2 people will read ^^; It's rough out here for us, trust 🙏

By all means, endorse the karate yaoi we all know and love, but don't forget about the girlies and the yuri pretty please 🧡🤍🩷

Additionally:

I'm endorsing basically any Sensei Wolf-centric fic. Idk what the Sensei Wolf writers are filling they fics with to make them so fire, but they are. Good for them honestly

Drop me a vote if anyone would be so inclined 🥺My AO3 username is SummerPhlox! Any votes on any of my fics would mean the world to me!!!

BUT if you HAVE to pick please please pretty please consider voting for Flower of Lemon and Feather of Shrike 🙏🙏🙏 It's honestly one of my favorite fics I've ever written and my attempt at taking back the agency the show took away from Yasmine and Moon. We live in pretty scary times where misogyny and attitudes that objectify and dehumanize women are on the rise. I've seen it for myself and with lots and lots of my female friends, so now more than ever I'm gonna push for giving women the spotlight. Their stories need to be heard, and they need to be seen as having value outside of the men who want to fuck them (or at least the men who are SUPPOSED to want to fuck them, lol. Demetri's gay ass would never, let's be so for real XD).

This is why I'm endorsing female-centric fics in general!!! Female character studies, female explorations, wlw, well-written mlw that treats the woman as an independent person, anything starring women!!! Make sure to drop a vote for your favorite Samiguel or Keenry fic, or any other story/pairing that lets the girlies shine as more than just props for the men ^^;

Homophobia has also been skyrocketing just like...in general, so in honor of the closest thing CK has to a gay male character who acts like real living, breathing gay men do and who also owns and is not ashamed of that fact (even if he is stubbornly living in that closet for now)...also consider dropping a vote for Demetri-centric fics??? For pride??? 💚🤍🩵

Also Awakening is my baby and my silly little werewolf passion project so if anyone wanted to vote for that one too I'm gonna kiss you on the mouth 💋 BUT if it comes down to that one or FoLaFoS, I'm gonna have to endorse FoLaFoS for feminism ajudhkubh

Happy voting and happy gay people month ����🎆🎆🎆

Cobra Kai Fanfic Awards 2025 - Voting Round 1 Day 5

Welcome to day 5 of the first round of voting! In this poll, you get to cast your ballot in the following categories:

Best Johnny (CK era)

Best Mr Miyagi

Best Miguel

Best Kenny

Best Returning Writer

Best Character Study

Best Whump

Best Platonic Dynamic

Best Series

You can vote up to three times per category! You may also skip any category you wish. Check our blog for the links to the other polls in this round.

POLL LINK DAY 5

All the polls in this round will be open until June 22nd at 8pm Central Time.

This is the first of two voting rounds, so after the results of this rounds are tallied up, there will be another round to decide the winners! The awards ceremony will take place later this summer in our Discord Server. Stay tuned for a date announcement!

Please share this post to any forum or social media to help us get the word out. There are a lot of talented writers in this fandom, and they all deserve love and encouragement!

Any questions? Concerns? Malfunctioning forms? Please contact us through this blog or at kk.ckffawards@gmail.com :)

[citadelofcubes]

"Oh Cara how did your first time getting to front go?"

...We potentially could have died... And I'm an emergency fronter now... - 🧊

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

I'm back on my bullshit thinking about the Hawke siblings again and how much I love a "both twins live" AU... but y'know what I love just a little bit more? An AU where all three Hawke siblings are alive, but one of the twins still get attacked by the ogre in Lothering and is presumed dead when they actually survived.

I like to think that since the narrative in DA2 is framed as a story Varric's telling Cassandra, we can play around with the fact that he's an unreliable narrator. Varric wasn't there in Lothering. He only knows what Hawke told him. It makes for a better story if Leandra, Hawke, and the surviving twin get to huddle around the dead twin and say their goodbyes... especially if they didn't actually get to do that. I mean, a lot of us already have that train of thought when it comes to Leandra's death and Hawke getting some closure through her final words telling them how proud she is. Whose to say Varric didn't do that for the lost twin, as well?

All that to ask what if the ogre attack happened, but the group was so overwhelmed by darkspawn they had to flee further and couldn't check the twin who "died?" Flemeth still showed up, but it was too late to go back and say goodbye.... so Hawke made a deal with the Witch of the Wilds and they all pushed forward to Kirkwall.

Imagine Bethany, left behind with broken bones and bleeding in the sand, fading in and out of consciousness as the remaining darkspawn surround her. She knows how to heal, how to fight back, but she's weakened. Her staff lays out of reach. Air shakes in her lungs. She tries to call for help, but only wheezes come out. Where's her mother? Her siblings? Did the ogre get them, too?

At this point, we all know what happens to the women darkspawn take, and Bethany could've met that fate; she doesn't have the strength to fight back as they drag her away. But before they can bring her underground, she's saved by another group of survivors. Perhaps they're more soldiers fleeing Ostagar, or townsfolk who recognize her from Lothering. They do what they can to treat her wounds but she needs a healer, so they bring her with them to seek refuge in Redcliffe... except they eventually realize she's an apostate. Well, she doesn't seem dangerous, but they still contact the templars.

Bethany wakes in a warm but unfamiliar bed with skilled healers tending to her. Templars hover by the doorway. First Enchanter Irving greets her, gentle in explaining she's safe inside of Kinloch Hold and that she's going to survive. When Bethany asks about her family, he gives her a sympathetic smile and says they only found her.

Bethany, who never took to embracing her magic the way her older sibling did and always felt like it burdened her family... has lost that very family. Could they survive the ogre and darkspawn? Or did the ogre tear them apart, too? How did she survive... but not them? Did the Maker really have such a sense of humor? How else would she end up in the Circle, a place her family went to great lengths to keep her safe from?

She doesn't want to think about it. She hopes they made it to Kirkwall, but the prickle of dread that crawls up her spine knows how unlikely it is. Bethany finds comfort in speaking with the mages who rotate in to heal and bring her food. Some feel trapped by their magic just as she does, but others remind her of her older sibling in the way they embrace their magic, a gift from the Maker. The younger apprentices who aid the mages ask her questions about what lies beyond the walls. The templars mostly keep their distance, but one is friendlier than others. A man with curly blonde hair and a sympathetic view of the mages bothers to speak to her more than his fellows do.

She's still in recovery when Uldred and his blood mages attack the tower, but she survives. Bethany heals, even as she's haunted by nightmares of the ogre wrapping its tainted hand around her body to crush her, flinging her aside to lay among the limp bodies of her family... haunted by the horrors the blood mages unleashed on the tower. She aids in restoring the tower the best she can, and accepts her new home, her new life. When she's well enough, she lights a candle for each of them; her father, mother, her eldest sibling, her twin... she even lights a candle for the family mabari, and prays to the Maker to give them her love as they stand at His side.

The Blight ends. Years pass. Bethany settles into her new life, becoming a fine example for the younger apprentices she mentors. She witnesses wrong doings against her fellow mages, loses friends to their harrowings or tranquility. She accepts what she is, even if bitterly. The Chantry's teachings about magic scar more than enlighten; she sees it in some of her fellow mages, feels it in herself. Secret meetings. Whispers of escape, of freedom. More escape attempts. Harsher restrictions.

Around this time, back in Kirkwall, Knight-Captain Cullen stands where he always does in the Gallows courtyard. He notices Hawke appear with some of their companions. It hurts to think back to Kinloch Hold, but something occurs to him: he knew of another Hawke who was brought to the Circle while he served there. They only spoke once before... well, before. He wonders if there's any relation. When Hawke wanders over to speak to him, as they always do, Cullen brings it up.

Hawke pales. A beat of silence. Cullen recognizes heartbreak; he sees it unfold in their eyes and swell in their throat as they realize that all this time, their baby sister was alive.

Then the day comes where new whispers float among the mages in the Circle. A visit by a Grey Warden. Most, including Bethany, assume he's here to recruit... until Irving comes to her. He says this warden's requested, though more like insisted, he see her now. But then Irving smiles; the warden in question said his name is Warden Carver. He received an urgent letter that his sister is here, alive, and he demands to know if that's true.

Bethany nearly collapses when she sees him.

While the reunion can't last; she can't leave the Circle and he has his calling; the twins embrace, sobbing out apologies and exclamations that they thought the other was gone. Carver tells her of Kirkwall, the expedition that led him to the Grey Wardens, and their older sibling's status as Champion. With a gentleness she never knew her brother to have, he tells her what happened to their mother, and more tears flow freely. Their sibling learned about her from a templar, though Carver grumbles that the bastard could've said something sooner.

There's the Maker's humor again.

...Now flip the script: imagine Carver being left behind instead.

For as strong and passionate as he is, that ogre still picks him up and slams him to the ground. Bones crack. Black splotches flood his vision, agony exploding across his skin. His sword flies from his hand. The soulless bastard tosses Carver aside like he's nothing, and he's left to lay there. His mother's cries muffle in his ear as though he's stuck underwater, sinking slowly into the dark.

It figured, honestly... that he'd survive Ostagar while his fellow soldiers were cut down all around him, that he and his eldest sibling would flee the field when all hope was lost... that he'd make it home to get his family out of Lothering... only to die protecting his mother. And why not? He is a protector. A warrior. It's a honor to die saving those he loved... so why didn't it give him peace?

Carver eventually wakes in the night among the bodies of fallen darkspawn. Everything aches painfully hot and his thoughts reject coherency. He knows his family is gone; they're dead, or they've fled... either way, he's alone; left behind. Something's broken inside of him, but he has just enough will to pull himself up at the sound of approaching footsteps. A group of survivors find him- funny enough, the same group who aided Bethany in an alternate timeline. Imagine that.

That's how Carver ended up in Redcliffe's Chantry with an overworked healer tending to him. He doesn't even flinch when the mage works their magic on him, knowing all too well the sensation of healing magic seeping into his skin, mending the flesh. He tries not to think of Bethany, or what might've happened to her.

The Chantry's overwhelmed with townspeople hiding from a danger outside that he can only assume is darkspawn... except it's not. He wonders how hard he hit his head when he hears the undead have come from the castle to slaughter what they can of the town every night. But then he sees it with his own eyes when one breaks in, taken down by a templar, and never before has he ever felt so useless.

Then the last two remaining Grey Wardens arrive. They're crucial in the final fight against the undead, swearing to enter the castle to stop the attacks at the source. While Carver couldn't participate in the final fight, something he complained loudly about, he did what he could in his condition to help like sharpening swords and handing out supplies. Mostly to keep his sanity and quite his thoughts throughout his recovery.

When the time came, he took up his sword again in the name of all those he lost.

An archdemon was said to be on the horizon, and the Grey Wardens needed everyone they could get to fight. Carver fights in the battle of Denerim where the Hero of Fereldan defeated the archdemon. He cuts his way through every darkspawn he sees. Ostagar flashes red behind his eyes. Lothering clutches at his heart. So much anger and sorrow built up inside him, flooding out in his tears and screams. Blood everywhere. Fire and smoke.

Then it's over.

In the aftermath of the Blight, like so many others, Carver has no home to return to. No family. He thinks to go back to Lothering to help rebuild, only to hear the lands were too tainted. These tainted creatures took everything from him... That's what eventually brings him to Vigil's Keep, standing before the Hero of Fereldan themself, asking to be made a Grey Warden. He already dedicated nearly two years of his life to killing darkspawn, and he had nothing else. Even when faced with the Joining, holding the chalice of darkspawn blood and being told to drink, he didn't flinch.

Life as a Grey Warden isn't as simple as he assumed it would be, but Carver finds purpose in his calling. Over the years, he grows to view his fellow wardens as family. He travels all over Thedas, venturing down into the Deep Roads to help clear out hoards of the darkspawn. But then comes the day he finds himself in Kirkwall, and it doesn't take long before he hears the name Hawke on the lips of the townspeople. His eldest sibling was not only alive, but they're quite popular among the people. But what about Mother? Bethany? He doesn't have to snoop too far to learn templars took Bethany away to the Gallows, and that Leandra Hawke was the final victim in a string of murders committed by a blood mage.

Carver finds himself standing outside the estate, glaring at the door. Furious. Heartbroken. Bitter. He wants to scream. This entire time, they lived. He's torn between wanting to reunite with his older sibling again, to get the truth from them, and wanting to barge into the estate, demanding answers to how they could let the Circle take Bethany... after what Carver sacrificed, how could they let Mother die like that? Was it all pointless in the end?

He leaves without knocking. He can't bring himself to see them. Not that it mattered. Before he could leave Kirkwall, the tensions with the qunari finally overflowed, and chaos fell upon the city. He's forced face to face with his older sibling again, but he wasn't prepared to watch the recognition slowly bloom on their face, or for all his anger to turn to mush. Carver's the first to speak.

"Somehow, I knew it would be you."

.............So, yeah. I really like this idea.

[abri-chan]

I'm not watching Eurovision ever again. Bye, and ju hëngshin qentë dhe mos paçi dritë.

[deceptivelycomplex]

ohhh I love a good tag game! let's do this

1. who do you look like the most?

needless to say, ouat doesn't exactly have great representation, but among the poc, jasmine is the one I resemble the most.

2. who's personality to you relate to the most?

a mean lesbian with a penchant for the dramatics and barely disguised self hatred? that's ME.

3. who's style matches yours best?

her s1-3 futch era? unmatched. and that's exactly how I dress.

4. who's backstory do you relate to the most?

I am a lover and a yearner first and foremost, and I, too, always fall for the wrong women. lonely lesbian solidarity 😔✊️

5. who do you think you'd get along with the best?

it's probably just wishful thinking, but I like to think we'd get along well. we're similar but not too similar that we'd clash

Okay so I created a tag game because I felt like it and it's FUN and it's SILLY and WHO CARES

Rules are: answer each category by putting a gif of a OUAT character that fits the best (or any other fandom if you feel like it !!!)

Let me go first:

1) Who do you look like most ?

(somewhere between those two)

2) Who's personality do you relate to the most ?

(And I am NOT proud of it)

3) Who's style matches yours best ?

(S1 Ruby specifically, overdressed and whore-ish)

4) Who's backstory do you relate most to ?

(ooooooh she has a complicated relationship to her dad)

5) Who do you feel like you'd get along with the best ?

(we'd be besties I just know it 😔)

Tagging @snowivyimconfusi @avatarena @deceptivelycomplex @lenaluthorssuitcollection and @cinnonym and also everyone who feels like doing it because honestly it was fun to do

(but also NO PRESSURE GUYS I'm just bored and looking for new ways not to work)

[widevibratobitch]

something about being told im 'the leading person at this whole academy when it comes to interpretation and stage intelligence' by the husband of the woman im trying (not really. but i mean. who knows) to seduce... ok boy you got me. lets make it a polycule.

[townofcadence]

"I'm a realist." Artair counters with a hum. "I try to give everyone basic respect at first... but you can lose it. I don't pretend everyone is wonderful or the world is a great place as it is... I just give others the best chance I can. I choose kindness because it's who I want to be." He shrugs again, one leg lifting to cross over the other beneath the table. "Here, the only thing that defines a demon or an angel is people's assumptions and preconceived notions. They're not the Christian idea of them, and they come in just as many personalities as humans do. Just like every other entity. It's just like you say."

Artair watches Nanashi as he speaks, head tilting in thought. "I guess... I can understand how experiencing so much would give you insight and thought like you might have. And also why it might make you a pessimist." He jokes, but the tone is softer. "But that sounds very difficult, too. Having to remember all of it, and dying. Like... it's disconnected, but it's still there." Sympathy stays on his face. "Dying is hard enough. But doing it so many times....? And then imprisoned like you were. Just....are you alright?"

He pauses, and shakes his head. "Sorry. No. That's a ridiculous question to even ask. Nothing like that is alright. But.... it's horrible it happened to you." His hand twitches against the table, an impulse to touch the other's hand in sympathy he resists, if only for Nanashi's comfort.

His arms cross instead, tucking his hands away. "Anyway. I think there's a balance between rest and change. But I understand what you're saying. And I do agree, there are a lot of people who don't change. Or who never will. I think many will in the right circumstances, but there will always be people who refuse to grow. Who you can't do anything for. And some who you have to stop however you must. Because you let far more people suffer or worse through inaction." His lips thin. gaze leveled on his mug.

The look is gone a moment later. "Beings will always clash, because there will never be a space without someone's opinion differing from another's. It's part of the conflict of life to learn to contend with it. I don't think it means we're destined to meet opposition in a fated way, but I don't disagree there will always be someone who opposes something, and the more people involved, the more impact a way of doing things has, the more diametric the opposition. I just don't believe it's pre-written. It's just--- roles that get filled, in that case. If there is someone who does something, there will always be someone who stands up against them because it's what they feel-- and if there's enough people behind them, they're labelled as their opposite, their enemy and rival."

He leans further back, watching Nanashi with his tea left forgotten. "Clashing ideals I agree with. Just the idea that it's meant to happen with that specific person, that someone is your soulmate or whatever.... I don't know. When a universe really only comes together from the senselessness of chaos paving the way for life.... it's hard to think anything has to happen. We are, we fight and we love and we do all the things living beings do-- and then one day we're not. Even if it's years and centuries and aeons-- everything we do now matters so much in its own way, and not at all in the grandest scheme. Thinking we matter enough to have a fate at all feels like it gives us more importance than we'll ever really have."

Nanashi found himself chuckling in amusement at the thoughts being share. "My word, Artair I have to say I believe you might be some kind of optimist. I suppose that makes me pessimist in this conversational narrative." He mused as if they were some actors on a stage about to preform.

"At least we are in agree that things are nothing more then social contructs. Good, evil these things are illusions to help people live with themselves. Good and evil don't actually exist, of course you will have some higher beings saying they do and that they represent them like angels or demons but, even these creatures don't follow those rules to a T. I have met horrible angels and what some people would call "good" demons. It is refreshing to here another speak of these things." He explained taking another sip of his drink.

"I simply don't agree that ANYONE has the right to decide ideals. I feel that should be left up to the individual. I have live MANY many life times. Each other life times was a different man. We all different opinions and ideals that mattered to us in that life. To tell you little about myself. I am reincarnation. For some reason every time I die, I become new person. I sometimes end up in new universe with new ideals but, always remember my past lives. I have seen so many things Artair. Things that probably shouldn't be seen." He chuckled softly again. "Then again those other seven lives were not me and yet are a part of me." He kept going.

"I know what I have seen. I have seen so many cling to their ideals unwilling to change their outlook. Even when forced into a corner. I think that is worst kind of person Artair. Someone who is unwilling to accept change. I loathe stagnation. I feel it is true enemy of the universe and the people in it. I feel senitent life are the only being able to cause stagnation. We are the only creature who can actively say: "NO" to the cycle of the universe. Some people would say that good thing. I disagree heavily. Change is good. Adapting is natural. Staying in one place and being unwilling to move on is the equivalent rotting from the inside out. You must admit at least this Artair. You surely in your travel have met people unwilling to widen their world view or will swear by their beilefs and be unwilling to change them." He was little more adamant about this part in his tone. He felt strongly about it after all.

"Ah but, I disagree with you there Artair." His smile widened. "The entropy is a part of the cycle. Things have to stop for motion to exist at all. There has to be nothing for there to be something." He chuckled again.

"Again Artair, I see you taking the postive route. Let me counter then. I have explored many universes Artair and in all of them. I have seen it. Beings draw together because their ideals CLASH. Once is a coincidence, twice is a coincidence but, the third time is a pattern. Most people of a scholary nature would agree with this. So if that is case then there is proof enough that the clashing of ideals are inevitable.

The noble paladin will ALWAYS end up in battle with the so called selfish dragon. The Tryant will always end up with rebels. The hero always has A VILLAIN. Etc. I believe that certain individual are fated to meet because they draw together because they are oppsiting sides of ideals. Gravity as I spoke of it before. They are draw together not because they havethe same interests or simply because of random chance but, because some force is driving them to each other."

[the-way-astray]

holding out hope . . . don’t act like it’s set in stone . . . it’s not . . . yet . . .

(much ranting in the tags)

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

So many great choices on this poll!!! If you're having trouble deciding what to vote for, I endorse any fics on my Elimetri rec list and my Non-Elimetri rec list that I made for fics from this past year 💗

Also HAPPY PRIDE!!! I know we're 2 weeks in but still 🌈🏳️‍🌈 In honor of the gay month, would my lovely followers consider helping out their local lesbian and throwing in some votes for women-centric and wlw-centric fics??? Even, dare I say...*soft gasp* wlw other than LaNichols?? I see a lot of mlm dominating this fandom, and of course I love them dearly (I mean! Look at my username!), but this fandom has such a rich and beautiful variety of sapphic pairings to write about, and the authors who do the thankless work of writing for the TINY wlw audience around here deserve love and recognition too!!! And the audience for CK wlw that ISN'T LaNichols is even smaller, so try to throw some love at the authors who bust they ass making some truly incredible sapphic works that maaaaaybe 1 or 2 people will read ^^; It's rough out here for us, trust 🙏

By all means, endorse the karate yaoi we all know and love, but don't forget about the girlies and the yuri pretty please 🧡🤍🩷

Additionally:

I'm endorsing basically any Sensei Wolf-centric fic. Idk what the Sensei Wolf writers are filling they fics with to make them so fire, but they are. Good for them honestly

Drop me a vote if anyone would be so inclined 🥺My AO3 username is SummerPhlox! Any votes on any of my fics would mean the world to me!!!

BUT if you HAVE to pick please please pretty please consider voting for Flower of Lemon and Feather of Shrike 🙏🙏🙏 It's honestly one of my favorite fics I've ever written and my attempt at taking back the agency the show took away from Yasmine and Moon. We live in pretty scary times where misogyny and attitudes that objectify and dehumanize women are on the rise. I've seen it for myself and with lots and lots of my female friends, so now more than ever I'm gonna push for giving women the spotlight. Their stories need to be heard, and they need to be seen as having value outside of the men who want to fuck them (or at least the men who are SUPPOSED to want to fuck them, lol. Demetri's gay ass would never, let's be so for real XD).

This is why I'm endorsing female-centric fics in general!!! Female character studies, female explorations, wlw, well-written mlw that treats the woman as an independent person, anything starring women!!! Make sure to drop a vote for your favorite Samiguel or Keenry fic, or any other story/pairing that lets the girlies shine as more than just props for the men ^^;

Homophobia has also been skyrocketing just like...in general, so in honor of the closest thing CK has to a gay male character who acts like real living, breathing gay men do and who also owns and is not ashamed of that fact (even if he is stubbornly living in that closet for now)...also consider dropping a vote for Demetri-centric fics??? For pride??? 💚🤍🩵

Also Awakening is my baby and my silly little werewolf passion project so if anyone wanted to vote for that one too I'm gonna kiss you on the mouth 💋 BUT if it comes down to that one or FoLaFoS, I'm gonna have to endorse FoLaFoS for feminism ajudhkubh

Happy voting and happy gay people month 🎆🎆🎆🎆

Cobra Kai Fanfiction Awards 2025- Voting Day 6

IT'S VOTING TIME!

You can vote for three nominated Karate Kid or Cobra Kai stories per category

The categories included on this voting poll are:

Best Daniel (Cobra Kai)

Best John Kreese

Best Robby Keene

Best New Writer

Best AU

Best Smut

Best Polyam

Best Oneshot

VOTING POLL DAY 6

There are many awards categories this year, so the polls will be posted over several days.  You can vote for up to three stories per category, but you don’t have to vote in all of them!  Skip through the different sections of the poll to get to the one(s) you want.  

Polls will be open until June 22nd at 8pm Central Time.

Once we have all the votes, the results will be tallied, and the stories with the top votes will go through to the next and final voting round to decide the winners of the most prestigious (and, so far, the only) fanfiction awards in the Cobra Kai fandom.  The awards ceremony will take place in our Discord Server, on a date that we will announce soon.

Please share this post to any forum or social media to help us get the word out.  There are a lot of talented writers in this fandom, and they all deserve love and encouragement!

Any questions?  Concerns?  Malfunctioning forms?  Drop us a line.

Read, vote… and, above all, have fun!

[exoexid]

the suyeol lore is so crazy

[fideidefenswhore]

morbidly curious about what will stay 'canon' in the latest installment of the pgreg-verse (the boleyn traitor)

[jaesblogstuff]

Attitude, no problem pt.2, ~pt.1~

oral (f receiving), choking (light + consensual)...smut all around man

The door shuts behind you with a soft click. You toe off your boots, still tasting the spice of red curry on your tongue, and Simon’s jacket brushes your back as he follows close—too close. You barely get your coat half-off before his voice cuts in from behind, low and guttural.

“Been watchin’ you pick at your food all night,” he says. “Figured you’d either start talkin’… or you’d need to be reminded how to use that mouth.” The coat slips from your shoulders and hits the floor. You sigh, just feeling the weight of him behind you. “Simon just forge-“

“You were quiet,” he interrupted, fixing your eyes to him. “Not in a way I like, thought I told you to fix that.” Then his hand wraps around your throat, not tight. Just there. A promise. A warning.

He drops—drops—to his knees like he’s being called, like worship’s second nature. His hands grip behind your thighs, lips already parting as he yanks your pants halfway down your legs. “We're gonna have a little talk, isn't that right?” is he talking to my-

You choke on a moan when his tongue slides up your cunt in one long, filthy stroke. His groan vibrates into you like it pisses him off how good you taste. He tongues your clit with slow, brutal circles. Just enough pressure to drive you insane. No hesitation. No restraint.

You gasp, hips jerking, and his hands tighten, yanking one of your thighs over his shoulders. “You always get quiet when you’re like this?” he mutters into you. “Or just when you’re tryin’ to pretend nothin’s wrong?”

You tremble. Fingers in his hair. His tongue flicks just right and your head thumps back against the wall. “I—I wasn’t pretending,” you manage, breathless.

He hums, like he doesn’t believe you. Lips slick with you, tongue working in slow, punishing strokes. “Don’t lie to me,” he growls, voice nearly lost between your thighs. “You forget who the fuck you’re dealin’ with?” He sucks your clit hard and you cry out, back arching off the wall. Your hands claw at his scalp, and it only makes him groan louder, like he likes being pulled apart.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that,” you whisper, broken and raw. “Was just a rough morning” His mouth pauses. Just a second. That’s all it takes. He feels the shift—the hesitation. Feels you go quiet. And he stops, just enough to make you notice. He licks once, slow and deep, then breathes against you:

“Say the rest.”

“there’s nothing more…” he fucking stops. With a forceful suck before he lets go and looks up at you.

“I—” You swallow; he continues.“Fuck—I’m… I’m drowning in reports. Price just keeps dropping shit on my desk like I’m his fucking secretary, and Soap—Christ—he keeps asking me to do his tasks ‘cause—fuck, Simon, slow down—‘cause his ego’s too fucking big to admit he can’t handle them”

Simon groans. Deep. Wrecked. Like your honesty just shattered something in him.

“That’s it,” he mutters, voice rough with something between hunger and satisfaction, like he’s been waiting for that. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

But then, He pulls back again. great. Just enough. Fingers still buried in you, but his mouth gone, heat gone, the drag of his tongue gone, and it’s a betrayal so sharp you actually whine, hips bucking, chasing the friction he just ripped away.

“Simon,” you gasp, dizzy, frantic. “What the fuck—”

“You think you get to come after the way you talked to me today?” His voice is low. Dangerous. Almost smug. “You think I forgot that fuckin’ tone? That little attitude you’ve been throwin’ around all goddamn day? Nah, sweetheart.” His fingers curl deep, just once, slow and devastating. “You’re gonna sit with it.”

“Are you…” You bite back a sob, thighs shaking. “You’re seriously punishing me?”

“Not punishin’.” His lips brush your inner thigh, featherlight, maddening. “Just remindin’ you who’s in charge of that pretty little cunt.” You glare down at him, wrecked and furious and dripping for him. “You’re a fucking asshole.” He grins. Licks his lips like he tastes your fury. “Maybe.”

And then he’s kissing you. Filthy. Deep. Letting you taste yourself on his tongue while he lays you back across the sheets, eyes dark, full of something too big for words. He doesn’t stop. Not until you’ve said it all. Not until you’ve come again with his name in your throat and your fears on your lips. You don’t even remember when he stripped— just the heat of his skin against yours now, the weight of him between your thighs, the thick slide of his cock dragging across your slit, smearing you open.

He doesn’t press in right away. He waits. Watches your eyes. Palm still cupping your jaw. Like this part—this slow unraveling—is what he’s been craving all along. “You sure?” he murmurs, voice pitched low, thumb brushing your cheek like he’s grounding you to the moment. “I need to hear it.” (a man of consent yes)

You breathe, shaky. Still wrecked. Still open. “Yes,” you whisper. “Please, Simon.” His name sounds small on your tongue. He groans, like it guts him. And then he presses in.

Thick, slow, unrelenting.

You gasp, hips twitching, legs spreading wider to take him. He moves like he’s afraid to break you, but desperate to fill you, to feel every inch of you wrapped around him. “Fuck,” he breathes. “So tight—still fuckin’ twitchin’”

He sinks deeper. You claw at his shoulders, mouth parting in a soundless moan as he bottoms out, your walls clenching around him like you don’t want to let go. And he just stays there. Not moving. Just breathing against your throat. Letting you feel the weight of him. Letting you get used to it—to him.

Then his lips find your ear. “You don’t need to ask for help,” he murmurs, voice low and burning. “You need to take it. From me. Always.”

He rolls his hips. Once. Deep.

It knocks the air from your lungs. And then again. Slow, deliberate thrusts that drag against every swollen, sensitive nerve he already unraveled with his mouth. He fucks you like he’s trying to build you back up one stroke at a time- steady, grounding, anchored in something real.

Your nails dig into his back. You whimper. He groans, mouth at your throat.

“You needed this, didn’t you?” he rasps. “Needed me to shut your head up for you.” You nod, barely, eyes rolling back as your body tightens around him. “Yeah,” he mutters, leaning closer, lips brushing your ear. “I know. I fuckin’ know.”

Your hips buck. Your eyes burn.

“Simon…”

You sob into his mouth when he kisses you again. This time deeper, tongue claiming yours like he’s desperate to steal your silence, your sorrow, your shame.

His thrusts grow harder, never fast, Just deep. Measured. Every one a promise.

“I’ve got you,” he breathes, over and over, like a prayer. “You hear me? You’re not goin’ anywhere. Not leavin’ you to drown in it.” Your body starts to quake again. The pressure builds fast—your cunt fluttering around him, oversensitive from his mouth, your second orgasm rising like a flood. And he feels it. Of course he does.

“Let go,” he groans. “Don’t hold back this time.”

You fall apart with a cry. Clenching around him, back arching, fingers gripping his forearms like a lifeline as your body spasms through another high, softer than before, but deeper. Devastating. It leaves you wrung out, voice caught in your throat, chest heaving.

He buries himself to the hilt, head tucked against your neck, groaning like it splits him open. Warmth floods you, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe—just holds you like the world outside the bed doesn’t exist.

Minutes pass. His hand cradles your jaw. He kisses your temple, once, slow. “Next time,” he murmurs, breath still catching, “you ask for what you need, yeah?” You nod, wrecked. Quiet. And you don’t miss the way he holds you tighter after. Like he already knows it’ll take time. Like he’s not going anywhere until you believe it.