#but I think it actually works as a poem that's just about the delicious pleasure and agony

[the-swedes-knees]

Time in A Bottle (Agent Mobius x Reader)

Summary: Everyone has a guilty pleasure. For Mobius, it's a slice of pie in a very specific slice of time.

Word Count: 1.8k

Located in the middle of Downtown, bordering on the corner of old-time druggies and newly gentrified condos was a moderate sized building with an exorbitant monthly rent. 

It was a theme restaurant, if the theme was 'we opened in 1953 and we'll be damned if we change the decor'- done up in chrome and frosted glass windows that clashed against the surrounding brick and mortar. The neon sign bearing the establishment's name had burnt out years ago, but it wasn't the type of place one would seek out.

Unless you were Mobius, that is.

[09:45:00]

Technically, he shouldn't be here.

His unit was nearly a mile out, or, more accurately, they would be within the hour. Dates like this, where a simple flap of a fat pigeon's wing could ripple into Nexus event after Nexus event had a name. A proper designation in their severity and frequency of necessary resets.

But he just always referred to them as 'a real pickle'.

You glance up at the front door as the brass bell affixed to the frame jingles loudly. The man that enters looks around the place before making eye contact with you and smiles. He points to the empty bar and you nod your head.

Once you finish refilling the other customer's drink, you see that he's made himself comfortable in the middle stool.

"Hey there." You greet from the opposite side of the counter. He offers a sheepish greeting in response as you set a water down in front of him, balancing a plastic straw on the rim of the glass. "Can I start you off with some coffee? Just made a fresh pot."

"That'd be great, thanks."

You place the mug and matching saucer in front of him and pour. For a moment you look up at him, and he's smiling a very genuine smile- something very rare these days.

As soon as it's full to the brim you're reaching under the counter and grabbing a clean glass sugar pourer, placing it right next to his cup.

"How'd you know?"

"Customer service intuition, I guess." He thanks you before unfurling the napkin containing his flatware. Like someone with real proper manners, he drapes the napkin over one of his legs before stirring an ample amount of sugar into his drink.

You can't help but notice just how much he fits in to the whole aesthetic with his well fitted brown suit and slim tie. New York offered a multiplicity of personalities, and you'd become quite numb to anything and everything that would walk through that door.

Yet, someone about this man was intriguing, familiar in a way. Like in the past life he was a PI that you hired to confirm your husband's affair.

Both a confidant, and a stranger.

"Feel free to take your time, but, do you know what you'd like?" You note his closed menu pushed to the side. He raises his eyebrows and nods while mid-sip, and you pull out a notepad and pen from your apron.

"Sure do, could I get two slices?" He points the vintage rotating pie cooler to your left and specifies his selection.

Easy enough. You put two generous slices onto separate plates, and he declines your offer of whipped cream or ice cream on top.

"Good choice, this one's my favorite."

"You don't say." The knowing twinkle in his eye wasn't noticed as you busied yourself with refilling his coffee. He holds his hands up in mock defeat and sighs. "Well, I guess you'll have to join me." The ceramic scraped against the quartz tabletop as he pushed one of the plates across the bar, directly opposite himself.

"I'm on the clock-"

"Don't worry, another customer doesn't come in for-" He pauses to flex his arm, riding his jacket sleeve up just enough to check his wristwatch. "12 minutes and 43 seconds."

[09:52:16]

"Am I supposed to trust you on that?" You raise an eyebrow, and his only response is a slight head tilt and pushing the second slice a nudge closer to you.

It wasn't every day courteous men offered you a break in the form of your favorite desert. Your face screwed up in contemplation as you looked at the only other two patrons in the diner before giving in and grabbing a second set of flatware. "Well, it is slow-"

"For a Friday?" He has another bite before setting down his fork and dabbing at his face with his napkin.

"Is it Friday already?" You sigh, bent over the counter to take a bite of the pie. Delicious as ever. "Hardly feels like it, all the days are melding together."

"I think this one will stand out."

"What is the date, anyway?"

"May 4th." You make a hum of acknowledgement and he gives you a lopsided grin. "2012, incase you forgot the year too."

"I'll mark it in my calendar," You laugh, using your hand to cover your mouth as you continue to chew. "'The Day I Met-'"

"Mobius." He introduces himself, extending his hand over the counter and you shake it. His grip is firm, authoritative. Before you can reply with your own name, he refers to you by it while maintaining perfect eye contact.

You can't explain why, but it feels so right when he says it. Like it was perfectly made to be pronounced in his charming Texan drawl with just the faintest hint of gravel.

While you're fixed in a stunned silence his eyes deliberately dart to the lapel of your uniform. You follow his gaze and laugh at yourself for neglecting that you were indeed wearing a nametag.

"So Mobius... like, from maths?"

"Yeah, like math." He eyes his untouched water and picks up the plastic straw. His fingers move carefully, removing the straw from the perorated paper. You watch with curiosity as the man twists the paper once and pinches the two ends together with his thumb and index finger.

Mobius holds his opposite hand out to you, confident, waiting. With a bemused smile you allow him to guide your hand. His skin is warm, presumably from the way he had cradled his coffee mug, but it's comforting in a way. His rough hand guides you, your finger tracing the geometry of the paper-straw shape.

"A path that twists and turns... but always ends back at the same spot."

"I wasn't very good at math." You admit, and gesture around as if working in a place like this was a testament to that fact. "Why does it matter that it always ends where it began?"

"Well, that all depends on perspective. Maybe it doesn't matter. But to the one who observes it, it makes all the difference." You quirk an eyebrow, silently pressing him to elaborate. "Maybe that point's... where you got your first kiss, the feeling when your favorite football team scores a winning touchdown, a perfect sunset-"

Mobius catches himself trailing off, and looks down at his plate. He puts another bite onto his fork and cheers it to you.

"Or having pie in good company."

You look around the mostly empty diner before bracing your arms against the counter, leaning in as if you were to whisper some great secret.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bit odd?"

[09:59:06]

"No-" His eyes crinkle as he laughs. "No, that's a new one. But you find it charming." He winked, actually winked, and leaned back in his stool, smirking into his coffee.

Your fork was halfway to your mouth as your just stared at him, frozen. You feel your mouth open and close a few times as you try to think of a somewhat dignified response.

"How would you know that?"

"I just know things." He shrugged.

"Like what?" You challenged.

"How about, Paul- over there." You crane your head to follow his line of eye, your coworker currently bussing a table that had just left. "Worked in this place five years, loves Coke- from the glass bottle, nothing else. Has a girl on the Upper East Side and runs a decent sized internet radio station out of his apartment."

"You're one of his listeners." You narrowed your eyes at him, a perfectly reasonable explanation.

"Oh, no. Hyperpop... not my style."

"Alright, BBC Sherlock-" You countered. You give a subtle head tilt to a woman sitting in a far off booth, papers spread out on the table around her pancake combo. Whoever she was, she definitely wasn't a regular. "How about her?"

"Mrs. Braverman. Youngest of eight siblings, English teacher at the charter school up the avenue. Actually prefers imitation maple syrup to the real thing."

You know very well Mobius could be talking out of his ass. But he's confident, nonchalantly so- like this was a game to him and he was obviously winning.

"What about me?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Your anticipation is palpable as he swallows his final bite, taking the time to wipe his face of crumbs before smiling softly at you.

"You are... a poem of a person. Charming, capable, when you walk into a room people notice- even if you convince yourself that they don't." His gaze is steady, patient, and he's looking at you as if you're the only person in the universe. "You have big dreams, far beyond all... this... and you're gonna make it."

[10:04:59]

The sound of the door chime breaks you out of whatever hypnotic state you had found yourself in. Sucking in a breath and blinking away the very beginnings of tears in your eyes you tell the new customer to sit wherever they like.

Mobius took this chance to check his handheld, sighing at the time and the ever-growing slope of the branch variation.

The reset charge would be set soon, with or without him there.

"Look at that. Duty calls." He stands up and pulls a billfold from his jacket pocket, not even counting as he puts the cash down on the counter.

Mobius turns to leave, but hesitates. He turns back around to face you and places his hands on his hips. Allowing himself to play into the fleeting illusion just a tad longer.

"One more thing I know about you-" Mobius rubbed his chin in careful consideration. "You have a date tonight."

"Ah-" You wag your finger at him and shake your head side to side, "got one wrong."

"Did I? Ah- well... How about we change that?"

You pause. The plates you had been holding found their way back to the counter as you set them down slowly. Once again in a very short time span, he had left you speechless.

"That... was possibly the lamest pickup line I've ever heard." Though you mean it to be snarky, it sounds more like praise coming from your smiling lips. "I get off at 6:30."

"Alright." He looks perfectly pleased with himself as he lightly knocks on the counter with his fist. "It's a date."

Walking out the door, Mobius gave one last look at the diner before reporting to the event site.

He knew would see you again, always at 9:45.

[hajimeiwaswife]

congrats on your milestone ane! I would like yuuji itadori with these lyrics!"And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime, and I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine" . Take your time and please don't feel rushed!!

AHHHH LUNA THANK YOU SO MUCH! AND CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE, TOO! I hope this meets your expectations!

Request: yes, for the 130 followers event.

Word count: 1,2K

Warnings: none

Summary: Yuuji indulges on his desires for once.

It was the first time in months that the students at Jujutsu High had a day off, a very rare sight, indeed. The second years proposed to their juniors to go to the beach, a relaxing paradise that would bring so much needed rest to the sorcerers. Crystal clear water, bright sea shells, flamboyant swimsuits and delicious food, that was what the young adults had for themselves.

Megumi was under an umbrella, covered in sunscreen and reading a book, content with his own safe space. Nobara and Makki were toasting under the sun, thinking no one suspected anything of their small and lingering touches to each other. Playing in the water were Panda and Inumaki, the taller one running away from a wild Toge who tried to rub a fish on his back.

Meanwhile, Yuuji and you were sitting in the sand, smiling and talking about everything and anything. It had been like that ever since you met each other, finding comfort and a scape in the other's arms, easy conversation falling out of your mouths, as if you had been friends since childhood.

You always felt some kind of warmth emitting from Yuuji; at first, you thought it was his natural good aura, being the closest thing to the sun you had ever witnessed. But that was discarded the moment you decided to face your feelings for the boy. Gentle, caring, outgoing, happy-go-lucky and attractive, you didn't even know when it happened, but you fell head over heels for him.

Yuuji, on his part, felt this cold breeze of August afternoons after a really hot day at the Mediterranean Coast when he was with you, refreshing and renewing. He loved to witness your beautiful personality grow and transform as you learned new things, your illusion for your job, how you cared for those near you, how strong you were. The duality in you made him feel butterflies in his stomach.

And that is why he decided not to tell you about his feelings. He knew how his story would end being Sukuna's vessel, when he had consumed all the fingers, he would be sacrificed for a greater good. He wasn't going to lie, he was terrified of dying, losing the possibility of growing old and experimenting life to its fullest, not being able to spend more time with his lovely friends ―or, as he liked to refer to them, family―, and not being able to live a life with you. His biggest regret. How could he be so selfish of hiding his feelings for you from you? But maybe it was better that way, losing a friend is less painful than losing a soulmate, and you had already lost him once when everybody thought he was dead. You would be okay.

Still, he could do it with just a kiss, just a gentle caress of your lips on his before he had to say goodbye. He looked at your profile, relaxed and breathing the salty sea breeze, the sun kissed your skin, glowing under dusk. You were truly beautiful, so much that he was left breathless with only the sight of you.

"I was thinking of going tomorrow for some Korean noodles to the Korean restaurant next to the school," you commented, amazed watching the swinging of the waves, "and I was wondering if maybe, uh you know... if you wanted to come with me." flustered, you asked him.

However, Yuuji was still trying to get over the sweet tone of your voice to even process your words. How could a human being have such a mellow voice? He could hear you talk all day in exchange of being allowed to listen to it. But, sooner than later, you would want a reply to your question, so he made the effort to think about what you said. Once he processed you had asked him out without actually doing so, his brain stopped working. You wanted to go to have lunch with him? Alone? Just the two of you?

"I-if you don't want don't feel forced to! I was just offering..." you exclaimed, shyer than he had ever seen you.

"No! No, of course I want to!" he shouted, startling you and cursing himself for his cringy behaviour, "I meant that, well, I would love to!"

"Okay."

It was silent for a few moments, both content with the date not actually date you were going to have, both your hearts racing, but none of you brave enough to tell the other. Nobara on more than one occasion had tried to convince you ―usually in a very violent way― to confess your feelings to the pinkie-haired boy, but you had refused. You were happy being his friend, in a world like the one you all lived in there was no place for love.

But watching him under the sun, moon appearing in the sky reflecting in his perfect skin had you thinking otherwise. Exactly because of the world you lived it was worth it, you needed to enjoy the time you two had, be it a day or fifty years. Sighing, you turned fully to him and opened your mouth, saying all the things your heart felt and that Yuuji deserved to know.

"I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime," you started. Yuuji looked at you surprised.

"Really? Where have you heard that? Only once in a lifetime? That's sad. Why no more than once?" his energetic self wondered out loud, waiting for an explanation to his questions. But you decided to follow as you had planned in that very instant.

"And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine."

Yuuji, eyes wide-opened, gazed at you as the cows looked the trains pass. What had you said? You were in love with him? Was that what you meant? He was confused, glad, happy, euphoric. The girl of his dreams was in love with him of all people. Or maybe you were reciting a poem and he was getting excited for nothing.

"Wait, do you mean it? Like, you like me?" he asked, trying to assured himself.

"I mean, yes? That's what I have just told you," at this point you were a nervous wreck, fidgeting and regretting your spontaneous decision.

Yuuji was going to tell you he reciprocated your feelings, but the thoughts from before returned, darkening his expression. He was going to die, sooner or later, it was unfair for you to be gifted what you wanted and then have it taken away from you all of a sudden.

"If you feel the same just say it, Yuuji, don't think about your situation for this, be fair to yourself."

Your voice. It was it that brought him back to the world. Your welcoming eyes looking at him with so much love that he could get lost in your attention. You were right, he had to think of himself for once, he was going to fall in the pleasure of having what he wanted, which resulted to be you. He nodded, incapable of talking as he saw you approaching him and caressing his lips with yours, as he had dreamt of before.

Like that, the rest of your friends witness your kiss under the stars a Wednesday evening after having an amazing day off, completely relaxed and in love.

If he had to die, he will. But, before that happened, he was going to be your love.

[babbushka]

hey zannah, happy sinday! may I request smut prompt 24 ('tell me how you like it') with paterson where they meet at the bar and end up having a one night stand (poss with some sub!pat if that's alright w you)?

(1.5k, NSFW [sub!Paterson, oral sex (m giving), hair pulling, praise kink, come eating])

Tripping and crashing in the dark, laughing against one another’s lips, you and Paterson blunder through the front door to his little home. It’s pouring rain outside, and you’re both soaked to the bone having forgotten to grab your umbrellas, but that’s okay.

Paterson has shivers running up and down his body, but it isn’t from the cold or the wet. No, it’s from the way you keep smiling at him, the way your eyes glint in the pale moonlight as he closes the door behind you. You’re already stepping out of your shoes, shrugging your coat away, and Pat’s pulse spikes when you cup his cheeks and kiss him, whispering into his mouth;

“Where’s the bedroom?”

He takes your hand in his, leads you up up up the stairs, lets you follow him in the dark so he can protect you from any wayward obstacles that might be in your way. The bedroom is cozy, warm and inviting, ever since he got rid of all of Laura’s shit that she left behind when she left – he stops himself from that train of thought.

There’s no reason to think about her, when you’re right here in front of him, when you’re already stripping down to nothing, your body warming and glowing in the lamplight. Paterson almost forgets to get naked himself in the shock of seeing such a perfect woman naked before him, but then his fingers are doing double time as he stumbles over his tongue.

“You’re – wow, I uh, wow.” For a poet, he’s stuck trying to get the compliments to come, even though he desperately wants to lavish you in them.

“Like what you see?” You chuckle, finding his shyness endearing.

The tips of Paterson’s ears go red, and he forgets to take his socks off, already following you to the bed as you settle yourself down on top of the covers. You arrange your body nicely, and Pat thinks up a million poems – from the way your hair splays out across his pillow, to the curve of your stomach and the flesh of your thighs, to the way your hands rest against your breasts, fingers tracing patterns around your nipples that make them stiff, that make Pat’s mouth water.

“Fuck, yes,” He breathes, climbing up onto the bed after you, settling himself next to you, “Can I…may I touch you?”

Those big brown eyes bore into yours, and you have to bite at your grin. He’s a soft sweetheart, that much is obvious, and you want to give him what he needs.

“You may, thank you for asking.” The permission has been granted, and Paterson’s hands smooth and cup at your breasts. You watch him chew his lip, shy, so shy.

“Tell me how you like it.” Paterson pleads with a gentle voice, almost drowned out by the sound of the rain pitter pattering on his roof, “I – I want to do it how you like it, I want to make you feel good.”

You grin, legs spreading just for him, and he groans in the back of his throat with eager anticipation, eyes going dark with want when you let out a happy little hum and instruct him to, “Come take a taste.”

 This had started in one of those ways Paterson had never thought something like this would start. He thinks about it as he kisses down your chest, sucks those nipples into his mouth just for a moment, an appetizer on his way to the main course. The conversation floats in his head as he remembers how pretty you had looked sitting at the bar;

“Mind some company?” He had asked, a nervous grip on his drink.

“Not at all, please sit.” You had smiled, making his heart flutter. That smile was something he’d do anything for, he’s sure.

“I’m Paterson – are you visiting? I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Just moved actually.” You take in the sight of his blush, how he moves to sit so close to you. “Thought here might be a good place to pop in on a rainy night like this. I’m (Y/N).”

“That’s a beautiful name. You’re – you’re beautiful….”

 And that had been that, now he was here, kissing at your inner thighs, tongue desperate to push through your folds. He gives in to the temptation, and is rewarded by the most delicious flavor that he’s ever had. Sighing and letting his eyes close, he rests his cheek against your thigh, his eyelashes brushing across his cheek as he makes out with your pussy.

“So sweet.” His voice is muffled as his hand caresses your hip, squeezes at your ass. You prop your leg up over his shoulder so as to not suffocate him, even as he buries himself closer closer closer.

“Thank you baby, you feel amazing.” You let a hand drop to his hair, soft and short and so silky, fingers carding through it and scratching lightly at his scalp, “Make me come like this.”

“Yes ma’am, oh thank you, thank you (Y/N).” Paterson could cry, the praise, the words of affirmation going straight to his cock and making it leak, hard and throbbing as it curves up against his stomach.

He thrusts his tongue in and out, licking broad stripes up through your slit, his nose rubbing against your clit and drawing out the softest moans from you. The grip on his hair tightens as you press your pelvis up against his mouth a little harder, searching for the right angle that will get your whole body tingling.

“Ah – little slower? There, that’s it, that’s perfect baby, darling boy.” You gasp happily when he catches on to what you want. He follows direction so wonderfully, he’s such an attentive lover, you could really get used to something like this. “You’re – yes, fuck – you’re doing so well.”

Paterson’s cock oozes and smears against his navel, and he whines, whimpers for some friction, some release. He pulls away just for a moment to ask, “C-can I touch myself please?”

“Of course, just don’t stop.” You nod with a sigh, and Paterson’s eyes flutter closed once again.

“No never, I never will.” He kisses and spells your name with his tongue, sucks and moans into your cunt as he wraps a hand around his cock.

Neither of you say much for a long while then, in this unhurried, lazy lovemaking session. Paterson bites and licks at your thighs, sucks on your clit and makes your toes curl, all the while slowly pumping his cock, edging himself on and off until he can feel your breathing coming in a little harder, a little faster.

You don’t warn him when you come, he only tastes it as the rush of your pleasure pulses against his mouth. He does his best to lick and swallow up every drop, not wanting anything to go to waste, not wanting to miss a single drop of the evidence of his hard work. He has earned it, you have given it to him, and he will not take that for granted.

“I’m going to come,” He groans, knowing that this will mean that it’ll be over. He props himself up on one arm, his hand speeding up a little faster, giving himself more friction, going at it a little harder, to bring himself to climax of his own, “Where…?”

“On my tits baby.” You pat your chest, and he moans, he was so hoping you would say that, so to hear the words is like heaven.

He manages to wait just a few seconds more as he moves up your body, straddles your waist and jerks off until he’s coming, thick ropes of it landing on your pretty tits, your stiff nipples. Your rib cage expands and pushes them up for him as you take in deep breaths, your hand replacing his as you milk him for all he’s worth, and his eyes roll back into his head while you take control, thighs twitching and stomach tensing, the feeling of your hand on his cock is one that he’ll remember forever.

When he’s finished, he settles on the bed next to you, and asks the question he already knows the answer to.

“Will you stay?” He hopes it’s a yes, but he knows it’s not, knows it in the way that your smile grows soft and sad.

“I can’t, I have to meet with my landlord about the apartment in the morning.” You explain, and Paterson tries not to let himself get too disappointed.

“I understand.” He nods, chews on his lip again.

“I’ll see you around though, won’t I?” You cup his cheek, “A handsome man like you is hard to miss.”

“One more kiss before you go?” That thought fills him with hope.

You just shared something special, after all. He may not have fucked you in the traditional way, but he swallowed a piece of you, and you touched a part of him that transcends beyond the physical world. And when you smile and lean in to kiss him on the lips, when you chuckle against his mouth and let yourself be held for a little while longer, Pat’s sure that this isn’t the end.

No, he smiles as you get up and walk into his bathroom, this is only the beginning.  

[mirrorforevers]

silently • graham coxon/reader

this is a direct result of this prompt right here

don’t b sorry love, we’re all horny here. this prompt immediately took me out of my writer’s block so yeah gsdjsdhgsdj it was a blessing! tysm for sending it n i rly rly hope u enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it aaaaa i literally couldn’t stop. this one has a special place in my heart now.

also please tell me whatchu think abt this one on my askbox! unbeta’ed bc i love danger

word count: 2.809

warnings: smut. shameless, fast paced fluffy smut.

You couldn't understand why the hell he was so nervous. On the way to your parents' home he asked more questions than a 4-year-old on their way to a park - what are they like, what do they like to do, do they know Blur? Do you think they will find my shoe ridiculous? I'm sure they'll think I’m a weirdo. What did you tell them about me? Even the many kisses you gave him were not enough to calm him down, leaving you to assure him that even if your parents didn't like him - which would be impossible, Graham was never better and more pleasant to live with - you would continue to like him. Very much.

Couldn't live without him, actually.

When you arrive at the door, your mother greets you with a wide, surprised smile - it didn't even seem like she had been begging to meet Graham for months and meticulously planned every minute of the time you would spend together. Her friendly posture seemed to make him more comfortable, the fact that your father was traveling also ended up making him more relaxed. “Dads are always frightening,” he’d say. He agreed to spend the rest of the night there after having an extremely pleasant dinner.

While he does the dishes, you and your mother clean the table when you decide to stop by the kitchen to talk to your boyfriend.

"It wasn't that difficult, was it?" You ask, a daring tone in your voice.

He smiles sheepishly. "Everything went significantly better than I thought it would, honestly."

“You did well. Not that she is hard to please, but you are really sweet.” You kiss him on the cheek. (It's so cute how he still blushes at these things after months of dating.)

"Thank you, love."

"I mean it. I think you deserve a gift for being like this.”

He looks at you, starting to pay even greater attention to the direction of the conversation. “And what do you have in mind?”

You whisper in his ear in the most seemingly innocuous tone you can feign. “I, for one, think you should fuck me senseless in the room upstairs.” He smiles, gaze a little lost in his surroundings as it usually goes whenever he’s pleasantly disconcerted by your dirty talk. Your hands travel his body subtly under his shirt. He hisses: “Can’t wait.” His voice is weak. You love to tease him like that.

You give him a little peck where his mouth and cheek meet – and then you motion to leave after a wink. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Babies, sorry to interrupt,” your mom arrives at the door, instantly killing off the whole mood you’ve created. “I forgot to tell you, but some other people from our family will be here in a few minutes. We’re not done yet!”

Graham’s really confused. You shrug and give him some context – “My family just loves gatherings in general. And they’re excited that I have a boyfriend now, apparently.” To which your mom points: “Exactly! They want to meet you too, Coxon!”

You can feel the anxiety building in him again already. He’s so uncomfortable it hurts, and you know his head is spinning. He doesn’t want to let you down, and after your mom leaves, you go back to calming him down again. “Baby, it’s okay, I promise. If you­’re too overwhelmed we--”

“No, no. I signed up for this. I’ll be okay. I’ll have a drink or two…”

You completely discard this possibility. No associating alcohol to social abilities anymore after everything he went through because of it. “No. We’ll find other ways to calm you down.” After some seconds of a silent yet intense brainstorm, you have an idea. But you won’t tell him. “Ok, I know what to do to take your mind off the pressure. Just wait and see, and no beers, alright?”

“Alright… I guess.”

After giving him yet another peck while he finishes cleaning the plates, you quickly run upstairs to change from the tight jeans and band shirt you’re wearing to a very light and flimsy sundress. And that’s all the clothing you choose. It fits you well, and leaves not much to the imagination. You know it’s a family gathering, but it’s also summer, so no severe dress codes were being enforced in any significant way.

He reads your mind the moment he sees you in the dress, shaking his head in pleased disbelief at the sight. He mouths a small “you didn’t” while a stupidly joyful smile slowly shines over the tight expression of worry he once had. To which you mouth back: “I did.” You then go back to playfully teasing each other a bit while you take care of the sudden assembly’s preparations.

Your family members arrive and, as expected, they’re really thrilled to meet your guy. Graham answers so many questions, and ends up sharing so much of how he feels about you with them, and bit by bit, the warmth and wholesome aura of your closest relatives makes him feel truly welcomed. He feels like he knows you even better now, now that he knows where your energy and vitality come from. He could see bits of your personality in every single one of them – of course you are still the splendid whole, but still. It made sense.

Also, you noticed he didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time. He was hungry and you’re glad your plan worked. It was easier to forget about how hard sociability is when his mind was somewhere else.

After a while, though, you could sense him getting fidgetier. Even though he was considerably and visibly more relaxed than he was a few hours ago, that amount of social interaction, specially while sober, still drained a lot of his energy. You take his hands, announcing you two were getting something else to eat. You go to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the lights, and though the house is empty you two could still hear the enthusiastic discussion your family is having outside, slightly drowned by the distance and the walls separating you now.

“You did so great, baby.” You smile, giving him a victory kiss while he envelops you in a tight hug. He’s proud of himself too, and he deserves to feel like that. “They love you already.”

“They’re just like you, in a way. I’m glad everything went well,” he sounds relieved, still tired, but relieved. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that proposal you made me earlier, though.”

“I know,” You plant a chaste kiss on his jaw. “I felt your eyes on me.”

This second kiss he gives you feels different. It’s longer. Famished. Purposeful. His hands are friskier now, traveling hastily throughout your body, and you alternate between giving in and becoming progressively more alert of your surroundings. You can have an idea of where this is heading. The swirling of his tongue around yours makes you dizzy, and the feeling somewhat akin to an electric shock – but milder, and definitely more carnal – that flows through your body when he bites your lower lip and brings your hips closer to his brings you back to reality. “We have to be careful,” you whisper, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air.

“I promise I’ll be. You look delicious in this dress, I… don’t know where to start.” He cups your cheeks while drawing imaginary lines across your lips with the tip of his thumbs.

“Think fast. Never took you for a quickie guy.” You chuckle.

“I like to take my time, yes, but some things can’t wait.”

And with that, with the dexterity and carefulness of a cat, he sinks to his knees in front of you, lifting up your dress with one hand and one of your legs with the other, your leg now resting on one of his large shoulders. He takes hold of your hips, angling you toward him. You hiss in anticipation, and you can feel your core burning in expectation too. Your hands now firmly grab the counter behind you for support while you turn behind you with attentive eyes to see if no one’s coming. You’re safe, for now. The thrill of getting caught is one that will never get old.

His eyes seek yours for reassurance. You, without a word, give it to him. You both look lovely bathed in moonlight. He teases you first, kissing and sucking at the skin on your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your center until after a couple minutes of that sweet agony his lips graze across that aching part of you.

He flicks his tongue delicately through your folds, playing with your wetness. The way his hands caress your lifted thigh so delicately while his tongue inscribes poems to your clit is something that makes your stomach flutter, you simply can’t ignore those tiny adorable actions that make loving him so addictive and rewarding. Keeping yourself silent and struggling to remain somewhat composed to anyone who might see you from outside is a painfully arousing contradiction to the sensations you’re feeling. He’s doing his best to fuck you up, gradually setting a rhythmic pace to his movements with the intent to release the spring now starting to coil tightly low in your abdomen.

“Jesus, Gra—f-fuck. Fuck.” You whisper, breathlessly, while simultaneously suppressing a moan when he delves his tongue even deeper in your core, your fingers instinctively curling and closing a fist on his hair, making him groan. You buck your hips against his lips and you can feel sweat beading on the backs of your knees, heart threatening to jump out of your mouth by how fast it’s racing.

You suddenly freeze when you hear a voice from outside approaching the kitchen and you lightly tap his shoulder. Graham stops on command, but he won’t get up until he’s absolutely certain he should. He sprinkles your thigh with small kisses again, eyes droopy with the high from giving you the pleasure he knows he’s giving you while he admires you. The person heading for the kitchen takes a turn to the opposite side and you sigh in relief. “False alarm. Go on, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You notice he’s panting, and you can only guess how hard he is, judging by the tone of his voice. The time you spent frozen wasn’t enough to completely burn out the fire he’d already created within you, but he’s determined to give you an orgasm before anyone can interrupt you again – now he had two fingers moving, stroking, curling inside of you in delightful ways while his tongue began to work your clit in tight little circles. You could feel him moaning against your sex, he really liked this. And fuck, he was good at it. He slips one more finger into you, his ring finger, making your pleasure soon explode into a trembling climax. You couldn’t stop the little sound you made and he kisses your thigh in reply while still lazily fucking you with his fingers. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

One of your hands move to your mouth in order to cover the sound you really want to make. Graham, once again, looks really proud of himself.

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and cleans them with his tongue before he lifts up again as inconspicuously as possible. You try to look like nothing happened, and you’re both glad that, apparently, no one’s giving a single fuck to whatever’s going on where you are. Given the realization, you look at each other and giggle. He then pulls you in a hug, voice husky when he teases, and confesses, “You can’t imagine how bad I want to fuck you right here. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“We’ll have to take this to the bedroom, love.” You reply, still recovering from your orgasm. You can’t risk more than you’ve already risked. He looks slightly…

Disappointed.

You smile. “You thrill-seeking bastard. You enjoyed this way too much, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t you?” He questions back, tickling your sides, a wide, satisfied smile on his face. God, you loved him so much. He pulls you back to him again, and you turn to the other side so he can grind against you from behind. He’s rock hard. “We have some thick curtains here, after all.” You say, mischievously, before you close the curtains as carefully as possible. He lifts up your dress once again, this time high enough so he can fill his hands with your breasts, and he, agonizingly slowly, teases your nipples with his fingertips while he keeps grinding against you. This, alone, gets you motivated enough for another round. “God, Coxon, you’re going to be the death of me.” Your voice’s painfully needy, just like every other part of you.

You spread your legs a little wider to give him better access to you. Feeling cool air against your bare ass, you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut when his hand squeezes your butt. “Dripping wet for me. You’re glistening.” He quietly notes, giving your butt a little kiss - you then look over your shoulder to watch him get his jeans open. His hard cock bounces against your ass as he pushes his boxers down. You wiggle to get him inside you while he tortuously slowly runs the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy. When it bumps against your sensitive clit, you can’t stop the mewl of his name.

After a few more hard breaths, he was inside you. You’re hungry for him too, and the sound of your body clashing against his is something unbelievable. You begin in a faster pace than the one you’re used to – and that’s not a problem. At all. Speed is of essence, but you’re also starving for each other. It feels like no contact is ever 100% enough.

Your hands keep firmly gripping the balcony and when he lowers his chest against your back you can’t hold back the involuntary gasp that leaves your throat and echoes through the empty house. One of his large hands holds your hips in place while he fucks you mercilessly, the other one covers your mouth hastily – his shaky voice betrays how badly this is affecting him too. “Shhh, love. You don't want anyone seeing you in that state. So fucking tight around me.”

He was sinking more deeply into you with each thrust now, and trying to keep your eyes open while his now awaken dominant side is doing that to you, exactly the way you want him to, is torture. You feel like you’re going to pass out from the all the sensorial and contextual stimulation. “You want me to come inside you, baby?” To which you keenly reply with a nod, not bothering to uncover your mouth. This was perfect.

He edged his hips back so he reaches your most sensitive spot and his grip on your mouth constricts when he notices how loud you want to be. “Feels like a dream inside you but keep. Quiet.” His voice lowers to a breathy whisper against your throat and the hands that were holding your hips in place now snaked to the front of your body to help you get off. And like that, you do, coming a second time, this orgasm even more intense than the last. The way your walls twitch around his dick is enough to push him over the edge too, and you feel him spilling inside you. You milk him of every drop, and after you both ride off your high, you feel a tender kiss that lasts for a while in your scalp, a silent “thank you” while he slips out of you.

You put your dress back on place, trying to compose yourself before you can look another human in the eye again. You have a positively overwhelmed, just-woke-up-from-an-incredible-dream look on your face. “You better not get me addicted to this kind of risky shit.”

He laughs while he also does his best to look like not one hair or piece of clothing ever went out of place. “Sorry, Y/N, I think I already did.”

[thekitteninlove]

Alright, here's another fanfic. I said that Dalim should get a better present for his birthday, so i gave him one. I wrote this to celebrate his birthday and to make him rip my clothes off and devour me. I guess this could be a reader insert too. Enjoy~

Characters: Dalim/ Dum Tweedle x reader

Rating: R 18+

I was lying on my bed, trying to decide what present I could give to Dalim. That guy seems to be a sex addict, so I’m sure he’d like it if i made love to him as a birthday present. But his fans think the same thing. He’ll most likely get an orgy for his birthday. Why does the thought of that makes me so annoyed? Am I jealous? I think I might have a crush on him. Ugh, if only he wasn’t such a womanizer. Never mind that, I need to think of a present. I want to give him something unique. Oh, I heard he likes poems. I could buy him a poetry book or… write him a poem. If I make it myself the present should be more meaningful. But I haven’t wrote one since… I don’t know. It’s been years since I last made one. I know I wrote some poems when I was in school. I could give it a try and make a short one. I went to my desk, grabbed a paper and a pen and started to think of some ideas. When writing poetry one needs to respect some rules. I still remember some of them, so I can write a decent poem. I thought of Dalim. What comes to mind when thinking of him? What does he remind me of? Wolves, the moon, shadows, night, the darkness… hmm… I need to make it rhyme. Let’s see… ugh, I need to rearrange this line. Wolf rhymes with only a few words and none of them are suitable for this poem. A little while later I finally finished writing the poem. I reread it. Hmm… it sounds fine. I shouldn’t expect my poem to rival the ones made by those famous poets. Also, uh… I meant to write a love poem, but this is… an erotic poem? Damn. Since he’s a pervert I’m sure he’ll like it though. We’re one of a kind after all. It sure sounds better and more perverted than my earlier works. If I keep writing poems maybe I’ll become a perverted poet, but that’s not one of my life goals. Now all I have to do is put it in a nice envelope and that’s it. But wait, I don’t think this is enough for a birthday present. What else could I give him? Oh, I know what. But if I want to do that maybe I should invite him over. His birthday is tomorrow, so I should go to his tavern tonight to invite him.

After a few hours, I got dressed and went to the pub. When I arrived the place was already lively. I caught sight of him at the bar, serving drinks, so I started to make my way towards him. He noticed me and waved me over. “Hey, Dum, are you busy right now?” I asked him. I didn’t use his real name since he wanted to keep a secret that he was a disciple of magic.

“Hi, princess, I always have time for you” he said with a smile that would steal a girl’s heart in less than a second

“I just want to ask you if you could come over to my place tomorrow.” I was worried that he might turn down my invitation and ruin my plans.

“You sure, princess?” he was grinning “you know how wicked I am. It’s dangerous to be alone with me.”

I know he wasn’t a completely bad person. He has helped me numerous times. “That’s fine. I want to give you a present”

He looked surprised. “A present? You don’t have to do that. Not for someone like me.”

“But I want to because I care about you. I also want to show my gratitude for all the times you’ve helped me”

He seemed to think it over. “Well… if you insist, but… why do I have to go to your place to get it?” he was smirking now “what kind of present do you have for me?”

“It’s a secret” I want to surprise him and… I don’t want to risk being overheard. That’d be embarrassing.

“Hmm… then I look forward to it” He smiled at me “Do you want to order something now?”

“Oh, yes. Um…” there were so many choices, I don’t know what to choose. “Do you have any recommendations?”

“You should try this one out. It’s a new drink I came up with myself. I want to hear what you think of it”

“Alright, then I want this one” I finally made up my mind

“Coming right up” he said as he went to prepare my order

Since he was busy we didn’t have the chance to talk much, but we’d have the opportunity to talk more the next day.

He was bound to arrive any moment now. I was a bit hesitant about doing this at first. I’ve never worn a white sexy bunny suit. Do I look good in this? I hope so. I heard a knock at the door. I took a deep breath to calm myself. I hope that’s Dalim, not just the mailman or the neighbor or someone else. I’d be really embarrassed if they saw me like this. I went to open the door and saw his shocked face.

“Happy Birthday, Dalim!”

“Princess” he was grinning at me “are you trying to tempt me?”

“Maybe” I smiled coyly at him “This is your present” I handed him the envelope with the poem in it. “I wrote a poem for you. I know you like them”

“Thank you” He took it from my hand

“Oh, and you can come on in and make yourself comfortable”

After we settled on the sofa, he opened the envelope and began to read the poem.

“Your dark grey eyes the color of the moon

Entrance me and make me swoon

Sweet words are stealing my heart away

Making me think about you night and day

You’re the wolf and I’m your prey

But with you I want to play

Lying in wait and hiding in the shadows

Will you jump and tear off my clothes?

Warned have I been about your dangerous mind

But with rope my body I want you to bind

You can play with me and eat me

My heart is yours, so I won’t flee”

OMG, he’s reading my lame poem out loud. I felt my cheeks growing hotter. Is he doing this to tease me?

He was smirking at me. “Do you want me to do this to you?”

“Um, i…” I need to get a hold of myself. He’s teasing me too much! I got up from the sofa and said “H-how about we play a game? If you can catch me in 3 minutes you’ll get a reward”

“In only 3 minutes? Alright, princess, I’ll do my best. Oh, but what’s the reward?”

“The loser will do whatever the winner wants”

“Sounds good. I already know what I want from you”

Uh-oh, I think I know what he has in store for me if I don’t win. “Alright, let’s start” I quickly moved away from the sofa and run to the kitchen. There was a table in the middle. I went around it and stopped. He was across from me.

“You look so delicious, my bunny” He took a few steps to the right and I took a few steps to the left. “Should I eat you here in the kitchen, on the table or should I have my lunch in bed?”

My heart is beating wildly and it’s not only because of the running. I also feel… excited. I’m having fun. I darted towards the bedroom. I could hear him chasing me. I was being hunted by the wolf. He was closing in on me. I bet he can be faster than this. He was just toying with me. Oh no, I’ll get caught. He grabbed one of my arms and pulled me towards him. Then he wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing my back against him.

He whispered in my ear “I caught the bunny. Now I will get my reward”. Then he tore my clothes off, leaving me in only my white thigh high socks and bunny ears.

Whoa! I certainly didn’t expect that. I mean, I did mention this in the poem, but to think he’ll actually do this…

“I won’t hold back this time.” He said and started kissing my neck, while one of his hands was playing with my nipple and the other was traveling down my stomach. “I’ll devour you” he said in a voice that reminded me of a hungry wolf. Then he took me in his arms and carried me to the bed. He placed me on it and said “I’ve decided, I’ll have my lunch in bed”. He moved on top of me and placed his arms on either side of me. The room was dimly lit because of the curtains that blocked out the light from outside. He was looking at me as if I was a delicacy. He leaned forward and bit my neck. I let out a gasp. “I told you not to get close to me, yet you tempt me like this…” He began to lick my neck again.

Feeling his hot tongue on me made my heart race in my chest and my body temperature increase. He did warn me and I know he’s a bad man. I’ve seen it. He did horrible things under Amon’s command, but for some reason I still feel attracted to him. I just can’t forget all the things he’s done for me. He was always there when I needed help. But knowing about the atrocities he’s committed makes me feel guilty about liking him like this. It’s like saying ‘I don’t care that you made people suffer, I still like you’. Feeling love for such a bad man makes me a horrible woman.

He was now making his way down my body with his tongue, while also giving me love bites. The pleasure he was making me feel made my disquieting thoughts melt away. All I could do now was focus on how good he was making me feel. It was like a wolf was eating me up. After he went below my navel and teased that part with his tongue he then put his hands on my legs and spread them. His mouth moved to my inner thighs and began to place some love bites there too

“Ohhh, Dalim~”

I felt his warm mouth moving closer and closer to my sweet spot. Thinking about how good it’ll feel when his tongue finally reaches that spot made me sigh with pleasure and squirm. I gripped his hair and pushed him where I wanted him to be. I moaned as I felt his warm mouth on my clit. He began sucking on it and I gripped his hair tighter. “Ahhh, Dalim, eat me~”. He began to insert his fingers one by one in me, moving them around and trying to find out where I was more sensitive and what movements made me moan more. The pleasure I was feeling was getting more intense by the minute. He found a way to move his fingers that was sending me over the edge. The vibrations caused by him moaning against my clit were making me moan louder. The pleasure intensified until I finally reached the climax. I was breathing hard.

Dalim raised his head and was now looking at me with a grin on his face. “Oh, no, I made my bunny dirty. I need to wash you now.” He carried me like a princess to the bathroom, where he set me down. He began to undress, but was looking at me, probably because he wanted to see my flustered face. As if he didn’t see enough of it. “Do you like to watch me undress, princess~?” He was teasing me. The teasing never stopped with him.

My cheeks grew hotter. “Uh… maybe?” I felt a bit embarrassed to admit it.

“I know you like it” He was slowly undressing. I could see now that he was hard. “You look so sexy in those thigh high socks and bunny ears, but I need to get them off you so I can wash you” He approached me and bent on one knee to remove my socks. I leaned on him as he took them off. He then turned on the water and made sure its temperature was just right before we entered the shower. He grabbed the shower gel and put some of it on his hands. “I warned you that you’ll get defiled if you keep staying near a bad man like me. Now I need to clean you up” he said with a smile and then moved behind me. One of his hands was on my neck and the other on my stomach. “Your neck seems so fragile, so easy to break” he whispered in my ear.

What? That took me by surprise. “Hey, are you trying to scare me?” Is he trying to push me away like he sometimes did? I realized some time ago that he was doing this to keep me safe. He was warning me that he was dangerous and that I should stay away. I didn’t know if he was still working for Amon or not. He always changed the subject whenever I brought it up. Maybe this meant that the answer was yes. If so, it really is dangerous to be near him. I may have made a mistake in choosing to stay by his side. But the thought of cutting ties with him made me… sad. I don’t want to do that, but that would be the right choice. Aren’t there any other options?

“I’d never harm you, princess. I’d never hurt a woman.”

No, I know he wouldn’t. Not unless Amon orders him to do so. He’s obeying him, but he never told me why.

His hand traveled from my neck to my breasts and he started cleaning them, while his other hand moved down my stomach and was now rubbing me between my legs. “Ah~, Dalim”. His stimulation was making me weak kneed. I don’t know for how much longer I can stand up. I put my hands on the wall to lean on it and I felt him press himself against me.

“Mmh, it’s so hard to restrain myself when I’m around you” he said in a husky voice. He started to insert himself in me, moving slowly at first, but gradually picking up the pace.

I was moaning and calling his name. “Oh, yes, faster”

“Ahh, as you wish, my lady”. He was getting rougher

I was gasping for air and trying not to fall to my knees because of the intense pleasure I was feeling. “Ahh, yes, Dalim~”. I could hear him moan behind me and feel his hands rubbing one of my breasts and my sweet spot. He’s an expert at pleasing women. The dirty things he was doing to me were steadily sending me closer to the climax. The way he was moving and his moans told me that he was getting closer too. A little while later I felt that extreme feeling of pleasure at last as I came and he did that too soon after. I was still leaning against the wall trying to catch my breath when I heard his voice.

“Mmh, I made you dirty again. I need to clean you more”

I turned towards him. “Then let me clean you too”

“Oh, so you want to do it too? Alright then” He was smiling at me

I grabbed the shower gel and put some of it on my hands. Then I began to wash his mus-, no, I mean his body. I washed his body, while he was washing mine.

After we got out of the shower and dressed ourselves, he said that he had something to do. He was vague as usual, but I didn’t press him further.

“Thanks for the present, princess. Sorry that I got my bunny dirty”

“D-don’t apologize” I said. I felt myself blush as I remembered what we did.

“Oh, so you liked it then?” he said with a grin

“Wasn’t it obvious?” I couldn’t look at him right now, so I turned my gaze to a random chair.

“You’re right, your moans were so sexy. I’ll also get you a present as good as this, if not even better, for your birthday, so look forward to it.”

He was teasing me again! I wish he would give my cheeks a break. They’ll melt from so much heat.

“See you next time. Bye” he said as he opened the door to leave.

“Alright. Bye”

Even after he left I kept thinking of him. What should I do? Should I keep seeing him like this? What other options do I have? I don’t want to cut ties with him. I could… get rid of Amon? But no one knows where he went after he escaped from prison and even if I knew where he was I don’t have the power to do that. I have a feeling Dalim had something to do with his escape. I need to think of a solution. Fast.

[yeselbeethings]

konoha’s sublime green beast

10 relationship headcanons for Might Guy

pairing: might guy x reader

a/n: similar vibe to the last relationship headcanons - any suggestions for who to do next would be appreciated. 

synopsis: a few tender moments, scenes from your relationship with Guy

warnings: nsfw content for the last few: general sex, fingering, oral.. the standard

The first time you meet Might Guy, you are stunned to silence. He sits with you and the other jōnin at the local bar and shares stories and you are completely hooked. Everything about him entrances you; his vibrancy, the way he speaks, the jumpsuit, the body, the size of his hands... he's so bright and youthful? Anko is the first to spot you staring, and when she drags you to help her at the bar with drinks, she says "oh yeah, Guy is a bit weird, we should have warned you", and in your tipsy state you remember replying "I dunno, he seems kind of cool?" You spend the rest of the night trying to catch his eye and striking up conversations. A few weeks later, he asks you on your first date, and your shoulders shake with laughter when you accept and he cheers something about youth.

Guy goes through his signature jumpsuits at an alarming pace. Sometimes they rip straight through the middle of the crotch, other times they wear through at the thighs, more often than not they simply succumb to the general wear and tear of being a ninja. You take lurid green jumpsuits that develop rips on the arms from being snagged on trees, and thus are no use to Guy anymore, and repurpose them. You cut the top section off and cut the leg just above the knees and wear them around the house with oversized t-shirts and sweatshirts. The upcycled shorts become part of your casual day off outfit, and you take to wearing them when you need to run errands around the village. It’s only right to carry on the Might family tradition in your own way.

Guy loves poetry, so much so it has seeped into his general way of speaking - most people just think it’s his odd turn of phrase, but you know it’s from years and years of devouring any poetry he can get his hands on - especially after Duy’s death. Your tiny shared apartment is filled with poetry books, from every village and spanning centuries. Guy needs reading glasses and has done since his teen years - he can read mission scrolls etc. with little trouble but if he needs or wants to read for more than a few minutes he takes out the gold-rimmed round glasses that live in a basket full of odd bits and pieces that don’t have a true home in the apartment and slips them on. He pushes his hair from his forehead slightly and lies down on the floor to settle into the latest thing he’s picked to read. He keeps a small battered red leather-bound book on his nightstand; it’s a second-hand copy of a collection of Warring States era poetry. Guy scribbles in the margins of all his books, but this one is littered with annotations and underlinings. On rainy nights, while you rest your head on his broad bare chest, Guy will hold you close and read a poem or two from this book to you. Uncharacteristically quiet, measured, and serious, his voice is like honey. When he goes away on long missions, you’ll often find a note resting on top of the book with a page number and line number written on it, you know to save peaking at that passage for a particularly hard moment, when you wish his gentle voice and inspiring words were there to comfort you.

One of the major challenges of being in a relationship with Might Guy is the sheer volume of food he consumes. His strict training regime and huge energy output mean that Guy eats up to 14 meals a day; all carefully nutritionally balanced. So much of both of your free time is dedicated to bulk cooking, preparing bento boxes, dehydrating fruit and vegetables, boiling eggs, steaming fish... Guy appreciates every second you put into helping him with his training and diet. Whenever you both have a free day in the village he hand writes you a note and leaves it in the kitchen with a cup of fresh coffee resting on top inviting you to dinner. Guy always chooses the most comfortable places, with home-style food and free-flowing sake and beers. He insists you order anything and everything you want, reminding you to leave room for dessert. He holds your hand over sticky tables, wearing a T-shirt and standard-issue jōnin trousers, smiling at you widely as you share dumplings and scallion pancakes dripping with black vinegar and chili oil. When you leave the restaurant, completely full, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you deeply, a large tanned hand on the back of your head and his other pulling you into him by the small of your back. You don’t know what makes you feel drunker; the sake, the food, or the depth of his kiss.

After your first few dates, you promised to cook for Guy at your apartment. Already knowing his love of curry, you silently vowed to yourself that you would wean him off that S&B curry roux blocks he always seemed to be purchasing when you ran into him in the village. The first time you cooked him a curry, he leant his hip against your kitchen cabinet, sipping a jasmine tea, and with rapt attention listened to you explain which different spices you'd be using for the curry paste. Guy would explain the medicinal uses for each one as you measured them out, all of them known to him already due to his extensive herbal medicine knowledge. This is the moment you knew that you'd fallen in love, listening to Guy explain to you that to activate the medicinal properties of turmeric, you'd need some fresh black pepper, with Guy showing you the best time to add garlic to preserve the allicin to ward off colds. While he explained to you all the properties, you told him what would work together and what wouldn't, to ensure that the finished curry paste would actually taste delicious and not just be a mash of flavours and chili. When your relationship deepened and you eventually came to share an apartment, a weekly curry night for Team 10 emerged, with Neji, Tenten and Lee sat around your large dining table, eating whatever curry you'd made that week. You sit there, smiling, as Guy explains how each component in the curry will help them become even more splendid shinobi.

At some point, you acquired a small turtle-shaped chalkboard, that hangs from a red ribbon on the handle of one of the kitchen cabinets. In the back of your mind, you think it was originally for reminders, but somewhere along the way, it got commandeered to record the results of Kakashi and Guy's challenges. You remember searching the rubble after Pain's attack to find it, sifting through tattered pages and broken ceramics in the vague hopes that it would be intact enough to save.

It is Hana Inuzuka who holds you tight around the stomach when you see the sky fill red during the 4th Shinobi War. Years ago, Guy had told you that he believed the time would come when he would eventually open the eight gate and that he would become Konoha’s red beast. he told you what would happen, from what he had gathered from the limited research on the topic. That he would burn hot as the sun and his body would disintegrate and he would fill the atmosphere as hot ash. You had sat in stunned silence at the man’s resolve and acceptance. Hana’s firm grip was suffocating around your stomach, and you could feel the eyes of members of the allied forces staring at you as you struggled, screaming. When the Infinite Tsukuyomi takes hold of you, you dream of chubby babies wearing green with pitch-black hair and iron grips, and a sweet uncle with white eyes and flowing clothes.

After the war and Guy’s discharge from the hospital, you find yourselves lost in your relationship. Guy becomes a shadow of himself, constantly encouraging you to leave, to let him wallow in peace, and for a brief few moments, you let yourself think that you could. The strain is unbearable at times, Guy considering himself unable to be your partner and you unable to reach the lightest parts of him. It is the 6th Hokage, Kakashi Hatake’s arrival on your doorstep, a new turtle chalkboard in hand that begins to turn the tide of Guy’s grief, and the pain in your relationship. Each week, Kakashi arrives for tea, and each week he issues a new challenge. It takes 6 months until Guy caves and agrees to go along with the rock paper scissors battle. He wins, 50-47. You mark the turtle chalkboard. Guy: 1, Lord 6th: 0. It hangs in your bedroom, and slowly the board becomes a mottled grey, with old chalk stains and the ghost of numbers. Guy begins training with Rock Lee again. He begins reading poetry again. His appetite climbs and climbs, and in the darkness of the night, he holds your hands and tells you he’s so so grateful you stayed - you are too.

Guy loves giving you head. He licks short wide tongued across your clit repeatedly and waits to hear your breath hitch and feel your hips twitching before he switches his tactic, enveloping your whole clit into his mouth and humming deeply as he licks and sucks, his bottom jaw rhythmically moving until your moans become deeper and longer, his hands pressing your hips into the bed. He loves it when you card your hands through his hair and grind into him. Sometimes he lets you cum like this, hips rising to meet his mouth and your fingers grasping at the sheets crying out his name, other times he edges you by drawing you closer and closer to your climax and allowing two fingers to slowly stretch you out in time with the licks of his tongue. He stops when you’re beginning to feel the pleasurable heat build and build and throws your legs up, moving quickly and lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you before your pleasure completely dissipates. He fucks you, giving himself a moment of relief before stopping to continue where he had stopped moments before, head between your legs and eyes looking up at you, dark and heavy, watching your chest brace and your muscles tense, pushing you over the edge in a few minutes, switching back to being inside you before the waves of pleasure have subsided so he can feel the clenching of your muscles around him and bring you quickly over the edge for a second time.

Even within your relationship, Guy has set himself personal challenges. When he is thrusting into you, or his fingers are deep inside you while his thumb rubs circles over your clit and your mouth hangs open, gasping and your hair is sticking to your face as you groan underneath him, overstimulated and hazy, he leans down and whispers into your ear - one more, okay? give me one more.

[random-imagines-blog]

Crash Love {Davey Havok x Reader One Shot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2822 Summary: You keep notebooks of your writing, sort of like journals. And the person that you write about the most happens to find one.

The water brushed up against the shore in light waves. It was a rather calm day in the late fall, so there weren’t many people actually out here on the beach today, which made it absolutely perfect. It was perfect sweater weather, your favorite cardigan wrapped around your body keeping the warmth in. You had taken off your shoes though, and were digging your toes into the cool sand. In the Summer, it was much too hot to walk across barefoot, but now, it was deliciously cool. Your favorite time of year. Your soy latte was beside you, having dug it into the sand so it wouldn’t fall over, and your notebook was on your lap - you felt like you were in your own little paradise, ready to forget about the world around you for a little while. Your best friend, the person that you were writing about in your notebook, wouldn’t be around for another hour, so you felt safe in putting your feelings down about him. He couldn’t try to peek at it, the way that he usually did.

You were even using a pen that he had gotten for you as part of your birthday gift. It wouldn’t be Davey if it didn’t have some sort of darkness to it. Rather than just being your average pen, it looked like skulls stacked on top of one another, but was surprisingly easy to grip.

The pages of the unassuming notebook were mainly full with all sorts of things. Poems, short stories, notes on things that you meant to write about but never got to do, even doodles. It had been your faithful companion for almost a year, and would need replacing within the month. There were only a couple of pages left. You meant to make them count. Once you were done with this notebook, it would be going straight into the lockbox under your bed, among the others from previous years. You didn’t have much of value except for your thoughts and your words, so they were the only things that took up the lockbox.

Putting pen to paper, you let the words flow. Many people, including past English teachers, had told you that you had a gift for words, and they had expected big things out of you. A best selling author or something among those lines, but you never quite lived up to those expectations. You preferred to keep your words private. Your own secret little pleasures.

‘Just as the waves pound against the shore, again and again I find it even harder that I am meant to pretend That my heart isn’t the sand, being pushed down hard By your smile, your eyes, which put me on guard California itself is cold when you leave it here alone I hide myself in sweaters which you have outgrown You go around the world like a bird spreading wings I watch you on TV and miss the little things Like the way your piercing hits my cheek when we hug Or the way your cologne keeps me in a state of fugue’

You left it there for now. It wasn’t as happy as some of the other things that you wrote, but knowing that he was going to be taking off for a tour in Europe hurt. And you would have to pretend to be happy for him and all of his success. You were immensely proud of him, he was getting everything that he deserved and worked so hard for but -

-but you could selfish sometimes and want him for yourself. It had been you two throughout high school, and then at University until he dropped out to focus on music full time. You didn’t even hold fault with the rest of the boys for taking him away, finding a sort of family with Jade, Adam and Hunter eventually. But you just didn’t have the connection with them that you had with Davey. And you knew it was because you were in love with him.

You turned back to something happier that you had written a couple of days ago, after Davey had taken you out to dinner, just as something fun to do.

‘For once, clouds overhead resemble me and you Though I’m glad for gravity to keep me like glue With feet on the ground, we walk side by side Though with your talents, I’d say, more like a glide My head upon your shoulder, and arm entwined with yours You only let go to kindly open up the doors The smell of the the spices, the delicious food, oh- I love you so much, just please, watch me glow.’

You heard footsteps coming up the sand. It was quiet, but distinct, so you immediately closed up the notebook and placed it under your legs where it won’t blow away if a gust of wind were to come about. You looked over your shoulder to see the familiar figure approaching. Your heart was beating fast just looking at him. Although he looked amazing when he was on the stage, dressed up and full of make up, you thought he looked his best just as he was now. His hair was sticking out from beneath his hood at odd angles, his tongue was flicking against his lip ring, his eyes were crinkled from the smile that he was giving you. Just a natural beauty, in your opinion.

“You’re early,” You said, patting on a hard patch of sand beside you, wanting him to sit down. He did, sliding into the spot, his legs splayed out in front of him. He moved the hood from off of his head, showing off his freshly shaved sides. It was tradition for him to get a haircut before the tour started.

“Are you complaining?” He teased. He picked up your drink, which had gone cold in the time that you were out here, though it was still half full. He took a sip, smacked his lips, then put it back where it had been. You rolled your eyes at how he just welcomed himself to your things. It was as if the only thing that really was private were your writings. He’d even taken some of your clothes before. In fact, you were pretty sure that it was one of your t-shirts that was sticking out from beneath his sweater.

“I was hoping to get more done by the time you got here, but alas,” You sighed, dramatically.

“Writing again?” He asked, seeing the notebook underneath your legs.

“When aren’t I?” You said, teasing yourself. “I might even finish another notebook by the time that you get back. You’re bringing me souvenirs, right? I really want a little replica of the Eiffel Tower for my collection.”

“I’ve already bought you two,” Davey pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but it’s the closest I’m ever going to get to seeing the real thing. We can’t all be rock stars,” You nudged him, making him laugh.

“Never know - you could do something with all those words you scribble down.” He tapped the top of the notebook and you moved it out of his reach possessively. It was from him especially that you hid those words from. He was content to just be friends with you and the idea of ruining that was devastating. Even more so than this stupid unrequited love crap that you hoped would only be in books, but you were living through.

“Definitely not,” You shook your head. “Besides, as I’ve demonstrated for you time and time again, I cannot sing. Wasn’t it Hunter who rushed in the room, thinking that I was killing a cat?”

Davey laughed at the memory, and had to nod, which didn’t offend you in the slightest. You knew that you didn’t have the pipes to be a rockstar. Davey used to think that it would be great to have you as a backup singer or something of the sort so you could be a part of the band, but your little demonstration had put an end to that.

The two of you sat on the beach for a couple of hours, enjoying the solitude of the day, and the calm weather which rarely came into California. He even used his phone to deliver Starbucks to their location, tipping the delivery guy generously for coming out onto the sand so that the two of you could have your coffees. You listened to him go on about the busy tour schedule, and how he didn’t have much hope of sightseeing beyond the van and the venue.

“But I’ll get you your damn replica,” Davey assured you, making you smile with hope. More than anything, you wanted to go with him, but it really was just band and crew only. You and Davey already tried that, but the record label, who was paying for everything, had put their foot down.

“My collection thanks you,” You grinned. “Oh, maybe next time you’re in Asia, you could pick me up one of those little Tokyo Tower ones. It’s almost the same, but red.”

“What, you have enough of them that you need colors now?” Davey asked, looking at his phone and pulling a face. “I have to go - practice and packing...”

“Do you need any help?” You asked, hoping to spend a little extra time with him, but he shook his head.

“The last time that you helped me back, you somehow replaced all my underwear with speedos. Not happening.” He got to his feet and then helped you to do the same. You loved the warmth of his hand. This little bit of contact was the most that you could hope for and you savored it immensely. But it ended all too soon. “Want a ride home?”

“With the way that you drive? No way,” You stuck your tongue out. He was infamous for being a horrible driver, and even you who barely saw his flaws thought so. “I’ll just walk, it’s not far.”

“Okay,” He said, shooting you one of his infamous smiles. “Text me when you get home safe.”

“Just promise me you won’t look at it while you’re driving.”

-

You had never felt so frazzled or stressed out in your life. This was worse than the time that you had slept in before exams in your final year of University. This was worse than the interviewing process to get your current position. This was even worse than the time that Jade had set you up with his brother on a date, and it had turned out to be the most awkward experience of your life!

Your notebook was missing.

You couldn’t remember the last time that you had it but you had a feeling that it was at the beach. But you would never forget it there, would you? You weren’t stupid enough to just leave it for someone to find. It didn’t have your name in it, or your address so no one could link it to you if they actualy found it but ... it was still mortifying.

You walked where you had been the day before with Davey, going down the same path and stopping in what you were pretty sure was the same spot. Nothing. So this either meant that it wasn’t where you had lost it, or someone had picked it up. You grew so frustrated with yourself - how could you lose something that was so close to you all of the time? And even worse, the special pen that Davey had gotten you was tucked in among the pages.

You dragged your way back home, only to see that there was a black car in your driveway. From the dent in the bumper, you could tell that it was Davey’s. He had a key to your place, so he wasn’t waiting outside, but still - you couldn’t think of why he would be here. You entered your place, and looked around to see that he wasn’t anywhere in sight. “You better not be drinking all of my almond milk!” You shouted. You walked into your kitchen, and rather than him being the first thing that you noticed, it was the notebook, sitting on the counter. You knew that you hadn’t left it there, having walked through this kitchen a dozen times in your search. You stopped in the entryway, and forced yourself to look onto Davey’s face.

“I noticed it when you were walking away,” He said, opening up the notebook. Your jaw dropped at the audacity that he had. He knew that it was private. You had never let him even peek inside one of your books before, and here was, flipping through it like he was looking for something in particular. Did he have the pages memorized? “I was going to give it to you but you were already gone.”

“So you just went through it?” You asked, marching forward to try to take it from him, but he held it out of your reach. High above his head, with the page facing down so that he could read whatever page had interested him. You tugged on his arm, but he was relentless.

“I’m glad that he doesn’t know that he’s all I think about, He doesn’t feel the same way, I have no doubt. I’m glad that he doesn’t know that I dream about his mouth The way he kissed me cheek on vacation, down south. I’m glad that he doesn’t know that I want to share house So that at night be can help unbutton my blouse I’m glad that he’ll never find any of this out He’s someone that I could never live without-”

“Please stop,” You pleaded with him. And he did. He just flicked his tongue at his lip ring again, sucking on it slightly, thinking about something. “Would you believe me if I told you they were about someone else?”

“No.”

“Thought not,” You said. Davey lowered his arms and you took the book out of his grip, slamming it shut before he could peek anymore. But he had all night. He probably read everything. You’ve never felt more mortified in your life.

The only sound was that of the ticking clock which hung on your wall. The seconds were passing by. “Can you maybe say something?” You asked, finally, unable to take it anymore. “Like - I don’t know - we’re not friends anymore and leave?”

“Why would I leave?” He asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

“Why would you stay?” You asked in return.

He didn’t answer you with his words. Rather, his lipring was against your lips now, still slightly wet from his tongue, which was all that you could focus on. Until you realized that his arm was sneaking by you, trying to get the notebook again. You pulled yourself away, came to terms with what just happened, and then gasped loudly. “What-”

“What?” Davey asked, snatching the book before you could take it back, and hid it inside of hoodie. “It’s all very cute - really. Why didn’t you read me any of it before?”

Your mouth opened and closed, and you felt like a fish trapped out of water. “Why do you think?” You finally sputtered out. You pressed your fingertips to your lips, still feeling the metal against them. Still feeling that kiss. “Because they’re silly and it’s humiliating!”

“They’re not silly. You’ve got some good material here,” Davey said, hugging it close to his chest so you couldn’t attempt to get it. You didn’t. He’d already seen everything. There was no point in trying to get it now. “It’s just kind of funny...”

“What is?”

“I’ve been trying to use my lyrics to get through to you,” He said, smiling. You were glad he looked so happy, but the situation didn’t seem to call for it. You were still more confused than anything. “Not as sappy as your poems but-”

You hit him in the arm, and he laughed and took a step back. “You’re a jerk.”

“Yeah, and I feel like one since I still have to leave tomorrow,” He frowned, the light leaving his eyes. Still, now that you weren’t hitting him, he approached you once more, and wrapped you in one of his infamous hugs. It felt different now though. It had more meaning. “I shouldn’t ask you to wait for me-”

“Are you kidding? I thought you read this book - I’ve been waiting for years. What’s another couple of months?”

[jaimajuju]

October 3, 2020

Day 3 of trying to be more present and grateful for my life.

Today I was hungover so I made myself a big breakfast of eggs, turkey sausage and a bagel but most importantly had breakfast dessert of cake that my coworker Teddy Bear gave me. It was delicious and I ate it while watching Gilmore Girls which made it even better. Then I was lazy and laid on the couch for a while. I made my roommate let me lay on her and we ended up just talking about stuff which made it an all around great morning despite the hangover. I lost track of time though so by the time one of us looked at the time it would have been when I needed to start walking but I wasn’t ready to go so my roommate drove me. I appreciate the little things like that she does immensely.

Today I worked and it was slow but I appreciated the time I had to sit down because I still wasn’t feeling the best and to clean a little extra behind my station. One of my friends came in to get a wrap which was cute. We couldn’t talk long because a line formed but I was glad to see her.

Today I came home from work and talked with my roommates for a while. I think last year when I lived alone I didn’t realize how nice it would actually be to come home and have built in friends to hang out with. I definitely like this living situation better and I’m so glad my one roommate asked us all to live together. I did a little bit of homework since we have a test on Monday.

Today at midnight we ran into my other roommate’s room to scream happy birthday, jump on her bed and give her a hug! Tomorrow we are going to go out to breakfast to an adorable diner called Rise and Shine and I’m excited because she’s been wanting to go there! She talked on the phone with some friends and family. Her brother showed her the meme from spongebob we had put on her cake Friday which was hilarious. I really hope she feels loved and special like she should on her birthday.

Today I watched a lot of Tik Tok which is totally my guilty pleasure. I’m glad I have time to just enjoy that kind of thing before bed, I’m very lucky to have that opportunity. I fell asleep very fast from being exhausted from the night before and work that day. I love when sleep comes easy.

Today was one of those average days that you still feel content and grateful for. I’m really enjoying writing everything down. I’ve always written and doodled in a notebook but it was always poems or short stories, never an actual daily journal and this is making me realize why people do keep journals. I’m so glad I started doing it.

[elesianne]

A Silmarillion fanfic for @finweanladiesweek – Day 5: Nerdanel

Summary: Nerdanel knows herself and knows from the beginning that she loves her brilliant, brittle prince with all that she has, and even more wonderfully, she feels loved by him for all that she is.

Length: ~1,900 words, Rating: Teenage audiences; Some keywords: romance, developing relationship

A/N: If you like, you can read my older fic Once upon a journey about Nerdanel and Fëanáro's first meeting first, though it's not at all necessary for understanding this fic.

AO3 link

*

More than the stars in the sky

From a young age, Nerdanel makes sure to know herself.

She knows that she is broad-shouldered, strong and capable, and nimble-fingered too.

She is not beautiful in that willow-slender, pale and exquisitely symmetrical way that seems to be most admired, the beauty that most songs are written about. Her beauty is in her strength and, perhaps, in her thick and glossy reddish-brown hair.

She is not very eloquent, not twinkle-eyed, not solemn either.

She is firm-willed and patient and a good listener and more than good at sorting through what she learns, making most of it, and applying what she has learned in ways that are all her own.

*

One day, on her longest journey alone so far, she meets a pretty, young prince. He is sharp-tongued and sharp-witted, but shy and uncertain at the same time beneath his proud surface.

Nerdanel can tell that this chance meeting will have a profound impact on her life.

She doesn't like to make quick judgements, and thinks them unwise, but there is some part of her that she has little control over that makes her agree to travel with him and stay close to him and gravitate towards him ever after that, even when they return from uninhabited lands.

She half-expects him to seem different in the presence of other people, and to act different toward her, but he doesn't. He is as brilliant and brittle and interested in her opinions and her work as he was before.

*

Nerdanel's mother works clay and her father stone and metal, and she learns both their crafts and uses them to make something that no one in her family ever has.

She creates sculptures that look exactly, precisely, like the things they represent, and she creates sculptures that look like nothing but her imagination.

When Fëanáro sees her work for the first time, he is one of the few more impressed by the latter.

He has a quicksilver mind that she enjoys chasing after, not that she is often far behind. They have debates that are often long but rarely devolve into actual arguments, because they both enjoy debating in good spirits so much.

They love to find out new things together, too.

Fëanáro loves her sense of humour, he tells her. He has a quick wit, she could tell as soon as she met him, but she is better at seeing the humorous side in everyday situations and in things that go differently than planned.

*

He comes to her home to be an apprentice of her father's and, with a confidence that few others would have in his situation, to pursue a friendship and a courtship with her too.

'I don't want to spend time with you in secret, because there is nothing to be ashamed about it', he tells her. 'But I don't care to make a spectacle of it either.'

She understands that for all his life he has been under scrutiny from everyone around him, whether out of care or concern or simply curiousness about the king's motherless child. It is no wonder he doesn't want the folk of the house of Mahtan staring at them as they get to know each other better.

Fortunately Nerdanel doesn't mind seeking private places to meet and keeping him all to herself in the moments they spend together.

*

Stars, Fëanáro calls her freckles.

'They are the wrong colour', she protests.

'I know that you have more imagination than to see only one colour in the stars', he admonishes her gently.

*

Nerdanel has never danced on light feet like fawns on the fields of Nessa, like most of her peers. She has always been sure-footed, though, finding her way swiftly through difficult terrain without stumbling, and when she is moulding something with her hands or her tools, she is graceful and precise.

Fëanáro is a good dancer, elegant and light-footed, though particular about his dance partners.

He persuades her to dance with him during one of their private meetings. They are in a little forest clearing, still wearing work clothes, at midday. It should feel ridiculous.

It feels romantic. He lets her lead half of the time, and his body close to hers is a great pleasure to her, warm and strong.

*

Their courtship is short.

'I love you more than the stars in the sky', Fëanáro tells her one night when they sit in the grass in the horse pasture behind her parents' house. They'd snuck out after the house quieted for the night.

The grass around them is tall and the night is warm and quiet, the sound of crickets filling the air around them.

Nerdanel kisses him and whispers in his ear her own love.

He holds her hand tight and tells her, 'I want to be alone together with you as often as we want, in a place that is our own.' His eyes are fierce and focused. 'I haven't had a home since my father brought that Vanya to our house. I want to make a new one with you. I know it will be a happy home.'

'We are very young, and have not known each other long.' Nerdanel feels necessary to say this in spite of her heart soaring at his words. 'And we should not marry only because you do not want to share a home with your stepmother.'

Fëanáro squeezes her hand, hard, and kisses her equally hard. 'I told you, Nerdanel, I love you and I want to share my life with you. Knowing that I don't have to go back to my father's house when my apprenticeship ends is a relief but I don't need to marry to avoid that. I need to marry you because I love you.'

He takes her in his arms and sinks his hands in her hair, and Nerdanel cannot help but smile at him. He makes her feel fierce and tender at once.

'Then I pledge myself to you, to marry you', she tells him.

'And I promise myself to you and to marry you one year from now.' Fëanáro kisses her, and Nerdanel kisses him back with all that she is.

It is not like her to make promises without thinking them through thoroughly. Though this decision seems to others a rash one, it is not. Nerdanel has been weighing it in her mind since the day she met Fëanáro.

*

The first time they go to Tirion together, they travel as a betrothed couple.

'Shouldn't you talk to your father first, before we tell anyone of our decision?' she asks before their departure.

'I do not need his advice for this', Fëanáro replies. 'And he didn't ask for my acceptance before bringing home that woman as his bride.'

What else is there for Nerdanel to do but sigh at that, and hope that his resentment of his father's wife will fade with the passing of years and his own happy union.

*

Fëanáro never writes any songs or poems about her, but then neither does she about him. They are not that kind of people. They make each other courting gifts, though, beautiful objects infused with all their skill and their love, and they continue to give smaller and larger gifts of their own making once they are married.

Some projects it is a pleasure to talk about with Fëanáro, whether his or hers, but keeping others as a surprise is even more delightful.

Fëanáro works long and hard in secret to make a new metal that he declares is a better fit and more complimentary of Nerdanel's skin and hair than any other, and makes many sets of jewellery of it for her.

She appreciates the jewellery though she isn't as certain as he is that it enhances her looks. But that doesn't matter, for she has never felt as lovely as when he is looking at her with all the intense attention that he dedicates to things that he is passionate about.

Neither has she has never appreciated the power in her body as much as when they are twined tightly together, kissing and touching and doing all those things which make the physical union of love so enjoyable.

*

She likes him best in the pale white light of the stars, or in Telperion's silver light, and out of his clothes: the contrasts between his pale skin and black hair and bright eyes are best enjoyed that way. He is a delight to all her senses.

He likes her in firelight. 'You are wonderfully warm, my love', he tells her once, running his hands down the sides of her face, her neck, her clavicles, and below. 'Always warm and sweet.' He kisses her. 'But warmest like this, with the fire making red gold out of your hair.'

*

After they are married they make their first home in a little cottage not far from her parent's house, for Fëanáro is still Mahtan's apprentice. They spend a few blissful years together there, making a happy home like he promised her. They continue to make their long journeys too, constant companions now.

Discovering new places together is wonderful, but so is coming home.

Their second home Fëanáro designs and builds in Tirion, and they fill it with beautiful things that are just to their taste, and with spirited discussions and debates.

Nerdanel has a large, light-filled studio there, and Fëanáro a workshop and forge in a building beside the main house.

It is all just as they like, adding to their happiness, and so does the child Nerdanel discovers herself carrying soon after they move in. Already from the small flicker of life inside her she can tell that the child is the fairest thing she and Fëanáro have ever made, and the most loved.

*

A friend of hers tells her, whispering it as if a delicious secret, that some in the king's court are saying that she has tamed the wild-spirited prince.

'As if anyone ever could', Nerdanel tells her friend.

But she feels warm at knowing that though she could never tame Fëanáro (and why would she want to? She loves his fierce self), the something special that is between them makes it possible for him to find restfulness when he is with her.

Working or debating things with Fëanáro is stimulating and exciting, but sharing quiet moments with him is exquisite.

Sometimes they talk more animatedly, sometimes more quietly. Sometimes only she talks and he listens. He listens best in these private, quiet moments; he even listens to her advice, which she didn't really expect him to do, in the beginning.

He likes to lie with his head on her chest or her shoulder, or her stomach once they know of the new life growing there. She likes that she is strong enough to hold him, and that he trusts her strength.

She loves to run her hands through his hair, ink-black and softer than it looks. It flows like singing water through her fingers.

His eyes are blue and grey and always burn bright, and more than anything they remind her of the innumerable stars in the sky, beloved above all else.

*

A/N: Thank you for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts about this fic :)

Some Nerdanel artworks that have inspired me: by Gurthang, by ACommonAnomaly, by Filat.

[starryandersen]

ok so I have this idea for the longest time please hear me out. brandon/adam (I’m lost but u can’t tell me you aren’t as well) both of them are hockey players but Brandon is secretly an acclaimed author (zach hyman vibe) and his latest book is an experiment with poetry and of couse it’s about Adam, can’t blame the guy. BUT imagine when somehow the secret is revealed and Adam gets suspicious after all of his friends tell him to read it and he caves in and reads all of Brandon’s books.

(pt. 2) AND he finds out he somehow always ends up being an important character in every single one, but full on freaks out when he realises the whole book of love poems are describing HIM! anyway that’s all I’ve got but it fits well with 33.hide so I’m curious about what are your feelings about this

-

yes yes YES i love it! i agree brandon/adam have stolen my heart and this is such a lovely trope. i’m such a slut for the dramatiques so this is wonderful. i hope you don’t mind if i write a little smth for it, since it really DOES fit so well with 33 :)

33) hide

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 Seriously, when Brandon had come out as this Y/A writer, it kind of rocks the whole team’s world. Of course, it was never that they found Brandon incapable of being a writer, but it certainly in a million years would never have been anyone’s guess at his secret talent. Between all of the stress baking and hockey, everyone had been baffled as to where he had found the time to write whole fucking novels. Especially when, in the thick of the season, the common perception is that Brandon and Adam have a combined total braincells of negative four. They tend to be associated with each other.

 Mark is the first one to finish reading the bulk of Brandon’s repertoire, two novels and his latest publication, a poetry book, and as soon as he’s done, he’s leaving the books in Adam’s stall with a little post-it note telling him that he has to read it.

 Adam has never been a big reader, admittedly, he had relied on SparkNotes religiously all through school and wasn’t one to read for pleasure. However, he really is curious to see what Brandon even wrote about, and he was eager to be a supportive friend. He picks up the first book on an off-day where Brandon had obligations and couldn’t be around to entertain him, so he curls up on the couch and reads while listening to the rain thump against the windows in a slow pattern. He finishes it before dinner, wrapped up in every single word spinning off the page, building an entirely different universe inside his modern apartment. Adam can hear Brandon’s voice in each word, telling of his protagonist’s adventures.

 It’s kind of fun, Adam realizes, as he uncovers relationships between the side characters and their teammates, it feels like a private look into the story that Brandon’s other readers wouldn’t get. Something unnecessarily warm settles in between his ribs. One of the characters, the one who actually holds the key to the climax of the story and is far more important than the reader would have been expecting, is based off of him, he thinks. Adam only puts it together at the end. The way Brandon describes him, things that Adam wouldn’t think to notice about himself even, makes the heat build in the tips of his ears. He finishes the book and slams it closed, dropping it onto the coffee table with a pounding heart, and goes for a run to process it all. It’s oddly flattering.

 “I read your book, the one about the spies.” He tells Brandon, one day over lunch, taking a bite of his sandwich like it hadn’t unearthed a whole plethora of repressed feelings that Adam hadn’t though would resurface. Brandon goes pink in the cheeks, stirring his soup with his spoon.

 “You can read?” Brandon bites back, but the anxiety under the flat, sarcastic lilt of his voice is easy for Adam to pick out. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, watching him carefully across the table through dark eyelashes. The dim, yellowed light is casting perfect shadows over his face and makes him look unfairly good. Brandon always looks unfairly good. Adam kicks him under the table.

 “Shut up, asshole. I was gonna say that I really liked it.” He defends mildly, through a smile. Brandon catches his foot between his ankles, and keeps it there. Adam doesn’t make any struggle to pull away. “My favorite was Andrew, naturally.” Brandon goes a dark red, eyes widening and returning to the perpetual hooded look that they always seem to have so fast that Adam thinks he might’ve imagined it. He steels his expression and shakes his head.

 “Narcissist.” He sighs, and Adam retaliates with another kick to the calf with his free foot. Brandon laughs, and scoops baked carrots and peas into his mouth.

Adam starts on the poetry book last, which takes him the longest. It’s a combination of the hustle and bustle of the season as it progresses, and the required amount of brainpower it takes to understand poetry. Adam has never been a poetry guy, but there’s something in Brandon’s words that roll off the page like silk and breeze through his chest like a breath of fresh air. They’re shockingly emotional, more than Brandon has showed in person during all of their years of friendship combined. It’s beautiful.

They’re flowery and reflective and simple, but the ones that stick with Adam the most are the heartbreaking stanzas of unrequited love. Brandon does say in the forethought that not all of the poems are of personal experience, but these feel so real that it’d be near impossible to fabricate them. The one he’s stuck on at the moment is one of these pages that tug at the heart strings and make Adam a little dizzy. He’s sat against the headboard with the book in his lap as he tries to make sense of it. Brandon exits the shower, perfect and naked and dripping pearls of water that absorb into the towel around his waist, and flushes all over when his eyes land on Adam. The pink spreads deliciously down his chest and Adam wants to bite him.

 “Shit, don’t read that around me.” Brandon grumbles, moving towards his suitcase to dig out some clean clothes. Adam reluctantly averts his gaze and discards the book onto the bedside table.

 “It’s- you don’t have to feel weird about it, or anything. You’re really good, man. I didn’t know you had all of those emotions in there.” Adam tells him, tapping his own chest. Brandon shrugs, pulling a shirt over his head that falls loosely over his shoulders, baggy around the elbows. He drops down onto the bed next to him and Adam pretends not to stare at the way his thighs strain against the fabric of his briefs. “I mean, shit. Those love poems, wow. She must’ve really broken your heart. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” The pronouns feels awkward and bitter rolling off of his tongue and he doesn’t know why. It leaves his chest aching.

 “Yeah, uh, I don’t know. Kind of sucks to bring up, you know? It never could’ve worked.” Brandon pauses, hauling a slow breath through his nose. “He’s too good for me anyway.” Adam blinks, trying to process the words coming from the other side of the bed. He suddenly feels all turned around.

 “Brandon I’m- fuck, I’m sorry. That’s shitty. No way he was too good for you, though. You’re-” Perfect, he wants to say. “-great.” He drops a hand to the side of his face, stroking his thumb gently over Brandon’s jaw. The pad of his thumb just barely grazes the corner of his lips. “Who-”

 “They’re about you, Adam.” Brandon says at the same time, squeezing his eyes shut. He sounds like he’s swallowing around a golf ball stuck in his throat and his face is turning a splotchy pink. Adam’s hand stills, heart stopping. There’s just no way, no way that someone could wax so poetic about him like that. Especially not his teammate, his liney, his best friend. He feels like he can’t breathe, the only thing grounding him is the sounds of the mattress creaking as Brandon sits up. Finally Adam’s brain starts working again, he reaches out to grab his wrist.

 “You fucking sap,” is all he’s able to get out before he’s pulling Brandon in for a bruising kiss, hands holding on like he’s the most precious thing in Adam’s world. He probably is.

[raendown]

Happy Birthday @kitsunekage88! :D

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2219 Summary: Tobirama takes certain things in to his own hands - figuratively, literally, and maybe a bit of both at the same time.

Follow the link or read ti under the cut!

KO-FI in the blog header!

Present In Absence

With each piece of clothing that fell from his skin he only felt hotter. Crisp evening air wrapped around him like a soothing embrace and still Tobirama burned from inside out, finding no relief in the autumn chill. Sweat was already beading on his brow as he fell back on to the mattress and let his limbs sprawl out across the covers. Naked and hot and already panting, Tobirama closed his eyes and let one of his hands run slowly down his own chest.

This was all Madara’s fault of course. He had to wonder if the other man even knew what kind of damage he was causing, brushing their fingers together so many times. Surely he had to know what sort of thoughts he was putting in to Tobirama’s mind – although Tobirama desperately hoped he didn’t. All of his troubles lately could be traced back to Madara and he would give the man a rather sharp piece of his mind if he didn’t think it would be the most embarrassing conversation of his life, to demand recompense for his constant state of arousal.

A frustrated huff escaped him, the hand stroking his chest slowing to a stop and resting atop his belly. It just wasn’t the same feeling his own familiar hands. His mind was filled with the callouses he had felt on Madara’s fingers, the roughness of the palm that kept brushing against him as they walked side by side. It was a craving his own skin would never be able to satisfy. Every shinobi had callouses of course but that didn’t mean every man’s hand was the same. Madara’s grip was different, the angles he preferred the throw were different, the weight of his weapon was different; his callouses were worlds apart from Tobirama’s but it was those hands he wanted to feel right now.

Cracking his eyes back open, swallowing a rush of shame at just the thought of what he was about to do, Tobirama checked the room to make sure he was truly alone. This was his own room in his own house yet the habit of checking for foreign chakra was deeply ingrained and this was not something he wanted any witnesses for.

His clone gave him an understanding look when it popped in to existence at his bedside. For a single breath he lay still and bore the sympathy in his own eyes before his mirror image lifted both hands for a transformation jutsu. Then it was Madara standing over him with burning eyes and wild hair, wearing evening shadows around his shoulders like a cloak just as he had when they parted ways only minutes ago. Even knowing it was a clone of his own making didn’t stop the hitch in his breath when the image of Madara knelt down on the mattress.

Tobirama remained sprawled out on his back as he took both of Madara’s hands in to his own, running his thumbs across the palms and shivering.

“Perfect,” he murmured to himself. And they were. The callouses were just as he remembered, rough on the fingertips and thick across the arch of the palm. With barely a passing thought for how wrong this was he dragged those hands towards himself and pressed them against his chest, directing them to slide down, down, down until they brushed against the patch of hair between his legs then brought them up against, greedy for the slide of those callouses dragging against old battle scars.

Madara said nothing, only smiled encouragingly and leaned forward to free one of his hands. The firm pressure of his fingers tracing Tobirama’s ribs made it very difficult to remember that this was not the actual man he was becoming obsessed with but for the moment he found it very hard to care. Small details like that mattered very little when Madara shuffled closer and swung a leg over to straddle one of his, riding his thigh and dragged rough palms down his naked hips. Tobirama bucked in to the sensation without bothering to restrain himself. It was only him here after all.

“Touch me,” he rasped, staring up at the face above him and allowing himself to pretend. “I want your hands on me.”

“Whatever you want,” Madara told him with a smirk.

His hands pushed up to caress the sides of Tobirama’s ribs one more time before shifting up to dig his nails in and rake down the creases of his abdominals until they were tangled in pale wiry curls. Their eyes held each other’s gaze as Madara wrapped a hand around him, fingers gripping just that little bit too tight. Sweat dripped down the sides of his temples and Tobirama arched in to the touch until he was almost fucking himself in to the other’s hand.

Curiosity drove his own hand out to claim a fistful of Madara’s hair, hanging loose and so tempting. The softness of the dark strands in contrast to the roughness of the palm around his erection was almost enough to drive him out of his mind.

“Faster,” he demanded mindlessly. Madara complied without question, unusual behavior for him. It made it feel as though he were riveted to the sight of Tobirama writhing beneath him, completely devoted to his pleasure alone, and that by itself was hotter than any of the endless dirty fantasies that bombarded his dreams of late.

“Just like this?” Madara asked him, hand too tight and the pass of dry skin over dry skin too rough to take him as high as he desperately wanted to go.

“Yeah,” he panted in reply. “Just like that.” It was perfect, just how he imagined the real Madara would touch him.

Eyes falling to half mast, he flung one arm out to feel around for the small tube underneath his pillow. When he found the lube he thrust it out towards Madara with a desperate whine. The last time he had indulged he had wanted exactly this, scraped his back against the bark of a tree in the middle of the forest and wished he had the time to open himself up, but he’d been too impatient then, too close to the edge before he even started. Now he had all the time in the world and Madara straddled across one thigh looking beautiful in his own feral way.

The other man took the lube from him with an understanding look as though he knew just what Tobirama wanted. Admittedly that had to be fairly obvious anyway but it was still a good thing that he didn’t have to spell it out. He wasn’t sure he had the words right now.

Letting his eyes fall closed entirely, Tobirama tilted his head back and lifted the one leg that wasn’t pinned down with another’s body weight. He tucked the knee against his chest then groaned appreciatively at the feeling of slick fingers tracing his entrance. It had been far too long since any but his own fingers explored that area, long enough that he felt a dangerous twist in his stomach at nothing more than the anticipation.

“Faster,” he gasped again when he recognized that he was too close to the edge again. He couldn’t help it. Madara lit a fire in him like he’d never experienced before, burning bright and hot and fast, uncontrollable and undeniable. Luckily Madara seemed to know what he wanted without further instruction.

A single finger pressed inside of him just this side of too rough, emptying his lungs of air. If his body had been hot before he was close to melting now. Not even the cool air was enough to keep the boiling heat at bay; every inch of him felt ready to burn right off his bones and all he wanted was more, to fall back in to the fire and let it consume him. Self-control and inhibitions abandoned him further with every tiny increment that thick calloused finger pressed inside, perfect pressure until it curled to drag along his walls as Madara slid it back out.

His belly was tight with need when a second finger slid in, his throat choking on a high keen as he felt his peak drawing ever closer and fought desperately to hold back. Madara’s kept the rhythm of his fingers steady and leaned forward, pressing Tobirama’s knee further in to his chest and dipping his head to draw a wet tongue up the side of his neck.

And then Madara began to speak.

Snippets of the poetry they were both so fond of, the words dark and delicious on his tongue, each phrase given new meaning as they rumbled passed his lips. Between each stanza a pause to growl some fantasy or desire, things he wanted to do to, places he wanted to taste. Tobirama was panting in no time. Callouses and rough touches were incredible but nothing got to him quite like Madara’s voice. Something about the way he formed his words made it sound like he was purring through the letters, making love to each syllable as it fell from his lips, and it was all made worse by the way he hardly seemed aware of the effect he had on those around him.

Partway through a beautiful poem about moonlight on skin Madara slipped in a third finger and bent down to bite the shell of Tobirama’s ear, eliciting a helpless whimper as he writhed and bucked.

“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you To-bi-ra-ma?”

“Fuck yes, don’t stop talking!”

Bringing his second hand back to Tobirama’s neglected cock, tightening his grip until it was just on the edge of too uncomfortable, Madara twisted his other hand until the glorious pressure of his fingers against Tobirama’s prostate made him cry out unfettered, unashamed of his own pleasure.

“Anything you say, pretty boy. Do you know how you like right now? I could write a hundred sonnets for the shape of your jaw, a thousand for your hair. Go on, pretty thing. Let go. Come for me.”

Unable to deny that voice anything, Tobirama did. He came with his teeth grinding for fear the shout clawing in his throat would wake the neighbors three streets away. Euphoria rushed through him and his body quaked under the hands that refused to let up until he was clutching the blanket hard enough to tear and whining brokenly. When finally Madara let him come down from the high he collapsed, gasping for air, staring up at the ceiling with his vision hazed with lingering aftershocks.

Rest lasted for barely a minute, however. As soon as he had breath in his lungs he was scrambling around in the covers and grabbing a startled Madara by the hips, drawing him in and pulling at the obi holding his robes closed.

“Wha-wait!”

“No,” Tobirama growled. “I’ve had my fun. Now it’s your turn.”

He gave the other man no time to reply, pulling out his cock and sinking his lips over the thick head with a satisfied groan. It took almost no time at all to have Madara curled over him with both hands fisted in his hair – unsurprising, considering how hard he had already been. Tobirama brought every ounce of skill he had to bear, used every trick he knew would have driven himself crazy.

Triumph and a jolt of exhausted lust burned through him when he felt Madara jerk and something salty touched his tongue. Then he cried out in surprise when suddenly his mouth was empty and his body convulsed under the memories of a secondary orgasm, experiencing it all over again in the aftermath.

For a moment, a handful of shining beautiful moments, he’d forgotten that Madara was only a clone.

Disappointment flooded him and Tobirama buried his face in the blankets to hide his shame. Even with no one here to sit witness he still couldn’t bear to face the world at that moment. It was his own clone, how could he have forgotten that Madara wasn’t actually there? Some kind of genius sensor he was. Even distracted as he was it should have registered that there were no chakra signatures in the room except his own.

Rolling over and stretching out his limbs, he allowed himself a few minutes to at least enjoy the boneless satisfaction currently making it feel like he could melt in to a puddle any moment now. It was a little sad to come back down to reality for sure but it was hardly unexpected. He was more than aware that he and Madara were far from an item – although if he had his way that would change. And why couldn’t he have his way? There was nothing stopping him from at least attempting a few flirtations. It had never been his area of expertise, per se, but he could still try.

With his head full of half-baked plans and his limbs still somewhat in a liquid state he never even realized he was falling asleep. Tobirama’s drifted off in to dreams of calloused palms and a dark voice whispering his every fantasy, uncaring for the chill that pricked at his naked skin or the mess that remained on his sheets. Those were problems to be dealt with after he had found the rest he so deserved.

[wellkepteden]

Prompt 01: Questionnaire

(content warning for: suicide mention and uhhh brain washing? kind of? idk how to warn for that, and some mild like.... referenced medical gore idk)

01. Tell us about your character’s name. Was it given to them or chosen? Does it hold any special meaning? If your character has aliases or nicknames, how did they get them and what do they mean?

“What do you want to be called?”

“I don’t understand the question, sir.” 

“Well, I can’t just keep calling you Sixteen.” 

“Technically my full designation is PM-16-21A.” 

“That’s not a name, you need a name, kid. What do you want to be called?” 

The Keeper wasn’t really a man that cared for names, so he never bothered naming his charge either. It wasn’t until Eden reached the cybernetics expert, Sargo Hemmel, that she received a name. It was a long discussion, but ultimately she begged off deciding on a personal name for long enough that he gave up and named her after a dancer he’d known in his youth. 

As for surname, Eden had a stronger opinion. It’s really just a pun on the fact that she was partially raised by the Keeper. She thinks she was very well kept. Hemmel tried to convince her to pick a more common name, but she does have her stubborn moments. 

02. What is your character’s relationship to their homeworld? Do they hold fond memories of it, or do they hate it? Are they still here, and if not, do they miss it?

Eden didn’t get to see the outside very much while she was on Dromund Kaas. She remembers frequently listening to the rain, but even before she was stolen she was kept carefully away from public view. Now, it’s just a place that’s too dangerous to ever return to. A wistful dream that was never really a reality. 

03. Describe your character’s relationship with those who raised them. Was it positive? Negative? Neutral? What sorts of ideologies were they raised with, and do they still stand by them now?

Even without the extra mental programming, Eden is a pretty naturally friendly person. She got along well with the scientists that watched over her in her first few years, and she absolutely adored the Keeper no matter how hard he could be to read and reach. Even though she was almost an adult by the time she reached him, she always considered Hemmel to be just as much of a parental figure, too. Luckily, she’s allowed to keep in contact with him even if the others are now far out of reach. 

Growing up, the message was hammered into her that she should never trust anyone and that the world was a harsh place where you could never relax your guard. It never really took. Somehow, Eden remains a font of optimism almost no matter what happens. Just about everyone that helped raise her is convinced it’s going to get her killed someday (if they don’t think it already has). 

04. What is your character’s relationship with the Force? Is your character Force-sensitive? Whether or not they are, do they believe in it? Do they lean more towards the dark or the light or are they somewhere in between?

Eden is force sensitive!! Not extremely, but enough that had circumstances been different she probably would have been picked up by either of the large force sensitive organizations. Hilariously, though, despite her own sensitivity to it she’s still not completely convinced it actually exists. She has a hard time with things that she can’t quantify in a way she’s comfortable with, and the implications of the force’s existence and so on make her Very uncomfortable so she tries not to think about it. 

For the most part she only really uses it to convince people to help her, or to grab things that are out of reach. She doesn’t do much fighting, and was never really trained, so that’s about the extent of her abilities. 

If she was trained more, though, she would definitely lean towards the light side. Not necessarily because of any inherent goodness, but because she’s not near as in touch with her more unpleasant emotions as she would need to be to harness the dark. 

05. What three word would you use to describe your character? What three words would your character use to describe themself? What three words would someone close to them use?

me: bubbly, absent, brittle 

eden: tall, pale, blonde 

hemmel: never shuts up

06. Describe your character’s aesthetic. Do they tend towards fashion or function? Do they like to accessorize? How does this extend into their own personal spaces, such as their home or their workspace?

Eden tends towards whatever is going to help her complete her current job. That pretty much always comes first. Outside of that, though, she does very much like dressing up in things that make her feel good, and will often spend paychecks on nicer clothing. Textures tend to be more important to her than looks, but feeling like she looks good is important too. 

Since others are rarely welcome on her ship it’s become one big cozy nest though, honestly. She likes to keep trophies and anything, really, that catches her eye. It’s important to her that she gets to do Whatever she wants with her space, after having grown up without a real space to call her own. 

07. What are your character’s vices? Guilty pleasures? Bad habits? Weak spots?

A love for all things luxurious has followed Eden since her first time inside a rich person’s living space. Not that she ever wants to go as wild as so many of them do, but she does have a serious weak spot for the finer things in life. One of the quickest ways to her heart is well crafted gifts, whether they’re food or clothes or something else. 

Outside of that, she has a particular fondness for cybernetic modification and loves to be filled with the latest tech. (in more ways than one ;D o god what did i just say) 

Also there is her habit of sleeping with... Just..... A Lot of the people she works with. And the people she doesn’t work with. She doesn’t consider any of that a bad habit, though, so I’m not sure it belongs in this section. 

08. Tell us about your character’s relationship with food. What are their favorites? Do they enjoy cooking? Are they adventurous? Will they eat absolutely anything or are they hard to please?

Growing up, food was for nourishment exclusively. So, of course, now that she’s on her own she’s abandoned that philosophy completely. Good food, it turns out, is delicious and makes her feel good and Eden is happy to indulge whenever she can. That being said, she doesn’t have all that much experience cooking because she would much rather let others do it for her, BUT she has helped others out a good few times and she loves working in tandem with people in the kitchen. 

Also, she’s unlikely to try something new unless someone has specifically recommended it. Getting her to eat something she dislikes is very difficult, and she would much rather avoid doing it to herself. 

09. How does your character feel about engaging in relationships—romantic and / or sexual—with others? What is their history like? Do they fall in love easily? Are they constantly in and out of relationships?

Eden loves easily and lightly, and her attitudes about romance and sex are basically identical. Both are very fun! She loves people, and she loves affection, and for her sex is not much more serious than dancing (though she’s never pushy about it, either). Commitment is never on the table, though. From the start of any given encounter, it’s very clearly stated that Eden is probably going to be moving on in days or weeks, off to the next planet and the next job. 

She does have a few off and on partners that she falls into familiar patterns with when they occupy the same space, but even those fall much more into a friends with benefits area than anything more serious. If asked, Eden will say very dismissively that she’s loved many times, and it’s true that she comes to love and adore people very easily, but she’s never related to the poems and songs about romance. She’s never really missed someone when they were away from her, or had her heart ache for them. Frankly, she thinks it sounds unpleasant. 

10. What is your character’s pain tolerance like? Can they hold their own in a fight, despite injury? If someone hurts them with the aim of gaining information, how much can they take before they cave?

Don’t hurt Eden !! She hates it and will do anything in her power to avoid it. She’s not even particularly into spanking in the bedroom. 

Poor Hemmel has to like fully knock her out every time she comes in for an upgrade, too, cause she’s very.... Reactive. Horrible at staying still. 

That said, lying and disobeying direct orders already literally physically hurt her so someone wouldn’t need to torture her much to get information out of her. Although, on the other hand, she’s also physically incapable of sharing certain information. Regardless, in the event of an emergency she has several kill switches set up that she can activate to remove herself as a liability if it becomes clear that she’s not going to escape. 

11. What is your character’s weapon of choice? Are they more skilled as a melee fighter or do they have more skill with ranged weapons? What’s their fighting style like? What sort of training do they have behind them?

No weapons!! If Eden is in a fight then she’s already failed, no weapons! She keeps a knife on her but it’s a utility tool not for fighting. The Keeper and Hemmel both tried to teach her to fight so she has Some training in blaster handling and etc, but she mostly refuses to even entertain the idea. If there’s any chance of avoiding a fight she’ll take it, every time. 

12. Does your character have any words or catchphrases that they say frequently? Tell us about how they picked them up.

When on autopilot she tends towards Very Polite, so between that and her time spent with Hemmel I’m sure she has a number of stock phrases. I just don’t know what they are yet, so I’ll get back to you on that. 

Outside of that, though, she does have kind of a particular way of speaking about her. Often, when speaking to someone she'll have an air about her like she’s sharing a very special secret with them, or a joke that no one else gets to be on. A hushed, amused tone comes to her most naturally. 

EDIT: i forgot sometimes in the middle of a conversation she’ll get a strong urge to drop in a “For the good of the Empire” but usually she manages to resist...... it’s just muscle memory honestly

13. Tell us about a negative experience your character has had with either the Jedi or the Sith, and how this has affected their standing. Whether currently aligned or unaligned with either faction, if forced to choose, how would they side?

Eden was raised on horror stories about the Sith-- though he worked with them, in his private moments the Keeper was not very fond. Perhaps because he worked alongside so many. However, out in her daily life Eden hasn’t had the opportunity to meet all that many Sith or Jedi individuals, and so remains largely neutral on the subject. 

That being said... You can’t miss the destruction that a Sith leaves behind, and that is something she’s witnessed on any number of occasions. So, between the Sith and their horror, and the Jedi who she views as similar to any other authority figure, if forced to choose she would lean towards the Jedi. At least, as far as she knows, they kill people less. 

14. How would your character react to seeing a relative or friend on the opposing side of a battle or mission?

If a friend is on the opposite end of a mission, then either Eden is currently working a con with them, or she has royally screwed up. Regardless, it’s not as though she’s going to be any more willing to fight them than she is anyone else. 

15. Describe a memory that your character finds embarrassing.

Shame doesn’t actually come all that easily to Eden-- she’s not self conscious about many things. However, there were a couple of moments in which she deeply regretted not doing more research ahead of time. Though he taught her many things, there were ways in which the Keeper neglected her education, and Hemmel didn’t necessarily know that she had those gaps. 

What I’m saying is she had Absolutely no idea what she was doing the first time she had sex and was very much trying to learn on the fly, which is a terrible idea and resulted in a very embarrassed and giggly end to the evening. 

16. What goals does your character hold for themself and what steps have they taken towards achieving them? How far are they willing to go to reach them? What is their be-all and end-all?

Though she would say that survival and fun are her only goals, Eden is also fervently searching for a way to undo what the Empire did to her head. Cybernetics have proved unhelpful in that area, and it’s difficult to find any experts that don’t have pre-existing Imperial connections. At the moment, her search has stalled and she’s trying very hard not to think about it, but she would do almost anything to de-program herself, barring hurting someone she cared about. 

17. What is the one thing your character would change about their life if they were given the chance? What other lives could they have lived as a result?

Honestly, Eden doesn’t much regret the way she was born or the way she was raised, at least not in any way that she would admit to herself. But she does sometimes dream of a universe in which her head and her actions were entirely her own. 

18. Living in such a high-conflict time, how does your character feel about doing what they must to survive? Will they hurt or kill others—either directly or indirectly—to protect themself and / or those close to them? If so, do they regret it when all is said and done?

This is an area in which Eden is Highly Conflicted! Honestly, fighting is a very bottom of the list Last Resort for her, and in 99.9% of situations she’s convinced that there are alternatives and that she’ll find them. Usually, she’s right. A good stealth field can solve a lot of problems. 

19. What is the biggest problem your character is currently dealing with?

Well! Her head isn’t entirely her own! But that’s more of an ongoing issue. Right now she’s low key wrestling with the morality of continuing to stay aggressively neutral as the galactic fighting seems to be only getting worse instead of better. This may be something she solves by going Robin Hood sometime in the near future, but that’s still hugely up for debate. 

20. Give us 3+ headcanons of any length or subject matter.

1. Programming: As referenced multiple times in the questions above, before she was stolen away the Imperials did manage to fuck around with Eden’s brain a fair amount. It’s mildly experimental tech, but so far largely successful. Unfortunately, they didn’t finish in Eden’s case which actually leaves her in considerably more danger than she would be otherwise. To avoid doing damage (psychological or physical), they were moving slowly with the Watcher kids, implementing broad ideas at first and then refining them once they had really settled in. 

Eden never got to the refining stage, so she’s left with broad strokes programming like “no lying, no hurting others, no disobeying a direct order, no sharing government secrets”. Had she managed to keep going for another few years, these things would’ve been refined in scope to things like “no lying to a superior officer, no hurting others unless threatened,” and so on. But, it is what it is. 

Violating any of these rules, as it is, leaves her with a blinding headache that is very rarely worth it. Luckily, her Keeper was careful to teach her ways of talking and thinking around some of the programming, as like many things of this nature it can be finicky and there are loopholes to be found. 

2. Seams: Eden has very many scars, all of them thin and almost invisible, which she affectionately refers to as her ‘seams’. They’re almost exclusively surgery related, long thin lines down her torso and along her limbs where skin was peeled back to allow for cybernetic enhancements. They’re faint enough that it’s uncommon for anyone to notice them unless they’re in bed together, as her doctor does very subtle work. 

3. Enhancements: Speaking of the reasons for the seams, though-- having partially grown up with Hemmel, Eden is fully stocked up on high tech enhancements. There’s very little of her body that remains completely untouched, and she does have a fondness for experimental tech which has led to mild short outs in the past. Every few months she returns to Hemmel for a check up and maybe an upgrade, so her list of capabilities is ever-changing. 

Some of the things that she’s had for a very long time and will probably always keep, however, include: False eyes to allow for enhanced vision and a useful HUD, several stealth systems that range from masking body heat and vital signs to cloaking her entirely, enhanced hearing and sensors in her fingertips that allow her to collect very specific information, and a few types of ‘kill switches’ as she calls them that can either knock her out or kill her completely should the situation call for it (none of these are able to be activated by anyone but her and maybe Hemmel). None of her tech is dangerous to anyone but herself. 

bonus. Give us a list of any length telling us why our “fave is problematic.”

i’m not convinced that she is !! 

sure she steals a lot but is that really that bad? 

maybe she’s accidentally broken a few hearts but that’s not rly her fault is it?

so what if she has just decided she’s friends with a good number of people without asking for their input??

who cares if her ship is a mess and she might not be able to fight to protect the ones she loves!! 

[crownedkingofcelina]

Celina’s Rules

I could write a book about rules, but you don’t need a book.  What you need to know is that I believe rules and punishments are extremely versatile and valuable tools for a Dom. When a Good Dom is careful with the creation and application of his rules, he can help a submissive become the very best version of herself.  He can help her develop healthy habits and new skills, or gain confidence while battling insecurities.  He can also make her feel owned and submissive.  He can turn her into a pathetic mess who is constantly desperate for her next orgasm. These rules are from me to you.  From me, for you.  I will never write rules for anyone I do not care about because creating and enforcing rules is a time-consuming responsibility.  Since I care about you so deeply, you can expect me to take your rules very seriously. That being said, this list is not concrete.  If a rule is ineffective, or it does not produce the desired results, I may change the rule and/or it’s punishment.  Whenever any changes occur, I will discuss them with you.  Your rules are not meant to trick, trap, or confuse you. As is the case with everything between us, if you have any questions or concerns, you can always bring them to me at any time. 1. Wear Warm Clothing Rule: You will dress appropriately for the weather.  When it is raining, you will use a raincoat and/or an umbrella.  If it is below 40º outside, you will put on a warm jacket or coat before leaving the house. Reason: Life is hard enough without being sick.  When you are sick, it is more difficult to focus on school, and it is harder or impossible to go to work.  I don’t want you feeling miserable, and I really don’t want you feeling stressed because you are behind on your responsibilities while also pushing yourself to make up for lost time. Punishment: You will go to bed thirty (30) minutes early every time you leave your house without wearing proper attire.  This is a fitting punishment because the extra rest will help your body recover from being exposed to the elements. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Buy a coat so cute that you want to wear it all the time.  2. Put your favorite coat somewhere that you cannot miss it when leaving the house.  3. Download a reliable weather app that will tell you what the weather is like outside before you even get dressed in the morning. 2. Drink Water Rule: You will drink at least forty (40) fluid ounces of water every day. Reason: Your body may run on cuddles and orgasms, but it also runs on water.  Drinking the right amount of water every day offers numerous benefits.  To list a few: Drinking water helps your organs function with ease.  Drinking water keeps your skin and your pores looking clean.  Drinking water causes your body to retain less water weight.  And, drinking water helps you lose weight by boosting your metabolism. Punishment: For each cup of water you do not drink (for any reason), you will do one one-minute wall sit.  If, for example, you only drank two cups of water the day before, you will do three one-minute wall sits: one for each cup you didn’t drink. Reward: Every day that you drink a minimum of forty (40) fluid ounces of water, you will put two dollars in your spending pile. Suggestions: 1. Buy a refillable water bottle that you think is very cute.  2. Buy a sippy cup that helps you feel little.  3. Slice some lemons or oranges to put in your water for extra, healthy flavor. 3. Sleep Rule: You will go to bed at least seven (7) hours before you need to wake up.  “Going to bed” means that your eyes are closed, and you are making a legitimate effort to fall asleep. Reason: In the same way that your body runs on cuddles, orgasms, and water; it also runs on sleep.  Your body and your mind both require a fair amount of sleep every night in order to perform at their fullest potential.  Getting solid rest every night boosts your immune system (which will keep you from getting sick as often); and, studies have shown that sleeping seven (7) hours or more every night increases weight loss. Punishment: For every ten minutes you are up past your bedtime, you will lose one (1) day of porn privileges.  See below: Five Minutes Past Bedtime = No Loss Of Porn Privileges Ten Minutes Past Bedtime = One Day Without Porn Fifteen Minutes Past Bedtime = One Day Without Porn Twenty Minutes Past Bedtime = Two Days Without Porn Twenty-five Minutes Past Bedtime = Two Days Without Porn Thirty Minutes Past Bedtime = Three Days Without Porn Suggestions: 1. Set an alarm on your phone to remind you when it’s bedtime.  2. Start getting comfortable an hour before bedtime so that you don’t feel wired or anxious before it’s time to go to sleep. 4. Eat Rule: You will eat three (3) meals a day. Reason: In the same way that your body runs on cuddles, orgasms, water, and sleep; it also runs on food.  When you eat the right portions of the right foods, it makes everything better.  Your body rests better at night.  You have more energy during the day.  Your brain processes information more quickly (which makes school and work much simpler tasks).  Antioxidant-rich foods lessen the damage caused by free radicals.  Complex carbs increase serotonin levels.  This list goes on; but, with your knowledge of nutrition, you are the last person to whom I need to explain the benefits of healthy eating.  You already understand the process.  What you need to do now is change your feelings toward food.  Do not skip breakfast because it feels unnecessary; instead, see it as an opportunity to activate your fat-burning metabolism earlier in the day.  Do not skip lunch because you are busy; instead, see it as an opportunity to boost your energy and serotonin simultaneously so that you have a happier and more productive day.  Do not skip dinner because you are worried about your weight; instead, eat foods that are rich in antioxidants so that you literally look younger longer for your Daddy. Punishment: If you skip a single meal, you will write lines of Daddy’s choosing. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Remember that eating actually makes you more attractive.  Vitamins and antioxidants slow down the aging process. When you think long-term, you realize that liking how you look and looking your best for Daddy both mean eating healthier portions. 2. Buy convenient meals that you can eat even when you are short on time.  3. Buy food that you enjoy eating.  Yogurt and smoothies are both healthy and delicious. 8. Atlas & Hercules Rule: You will never let guilt or fear stop you from telling me how you feel. Reason: You are my best friend.  I love you.  I care about you.  This page is evidence of that.  As I said before, I do not make rules for people I do not care about because making and enforcing rules is a time-consuming responsibility.  In fact, I will not dominate someone unless she is special and important to me.  You are more special and important than you know.  As much as I enjoy using you for my pleasure, that is not my primary reason for being here.  I want you to be happy and healthy.  I want to do everything I can to make that happen.  If you are having a bad day, and you want to talk about it, I want to hear about it.  I know that, sometimes, we just need distractions from our negative feelings.  But, there are times when we need to vent or talk about the things that are bothering us.  I am here for both.  You are not going to push me away or lose me because you are having a bad day or feeling sad.  I promise. Punishment: Not letting me help you will make me incredibly sad. Reward: Talking to me about what’s weighing you down will give me opportunities to prove to you that I am not going to leave or stop caring about you. Suggestions: 1. Tell me right away.  If you hold onto your sad feelings for a while, you might talk yourself out of sharing them with me.  2. Remember, you aren’t unloading your sadness on me, you are sharing it with me so that we can handle it together. 10. Atlas & Hercules Part II Rule: You will call me when you are distressed. Reason: There is no reason you should ever have to panic or worry alone.  Especially if you are having a panic attack, you will tell me because I want to be there for you.  I want to help you and take away your fears, but I can’t do that unless you let me.  You can message me first; but, if I don’t respond, you will call me to wake me up so that we can talk. Punishment: I will be severely disappointed that you didn’t give me the opportunity to help you. Reward: Waking me up when you need me will result in my writing a poem for you. Suggestions: 1. If you think I need my sleep, call me anyway.  If I truly need my sleep, I will be too tired to be woken up by the phone call.  If I answer, then I will be able to help you.  In either scenario, calling me is an excellent measure of whether or not I have rested enough.  2. If you are afraid of bothering me, remember that it honestly bothers me more to know that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, than to wake up in the middle of the night. 11. Medication Rule: You will take a multi-vitamin, your birth control, turmeric, and Prozac every day. Reason:  All bodies are not created equal.  For example, you are able to orgasm without physical stimulation.  That is something some women will only ever be able to dream about doing.  Some people are tall, some are short, some have brown eyes, some have red hair, some have freckles, some have an iron deficiency, some are colorblind, some have a chemical imbalance, and the list goes on.  We have no control over our genetic code.  What we can control is whether or not we do everything in our power to help our bodies as much as we can.  Since you are mine, and your body is mine, you are going to do everything within your power to keep yourself as healthy as possible, physically and mentally.  Taking your daily vitamins and medications is just as important to me as eating two (2) meals a day and getting at least seven (7) hours of sleep. Punishment: Forgetting to take your medication or choosing to not take your medication for any reason will result in writing lines of my choosing.  The length of your lines and the number of repetitions will vary depending on which medication you did not take, and how good or bad you have been at following this rule in the past. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Take your medications at the same time every day to help it become a habit.  2. Always keep your medications in the same place so that you never misplace a bottle.  3. Do not keep your medications near the kitchen or bathroom sink.  It will be too easy to lose a pill down the drain.  4. Leave a reminder to take your medications somewhere where you cannot miss it: bathroom mirror, bedroom door, front door, etc.  5. Set an alarm in your phone that will alert you at the same time every day, and remind you to take your medications. 12. Exercise Rule: You will exercise for twenty minutes every morning as part of your morning routine. Reason: Exercising keeps you healthy by strengthening your heart, improving your circulation, and toning your muscles.  Exercising also boosts your metabolism which helps your body burn calories faster and more efficiently.  Finally, daily exercise also improves your immune system, making it less likely that you will get sick. Punishment: For every minute of exercising you skip, you will be in time-out for an equal length of time.  Now that you are required to exercise as part of your morning routine, your Daddy is anticipating that the main reason why you might skip a workout is because you would rather sleep in for twenty minutes.  In this scenario, you are willing to trade the time you would have spent exercising for more sleep.  Since your health is so important to me, your Daddy is willing to sacrifice twenty minutes of his time with you in order to give you back the twenty minutes you lost when you decided to stay in bed.  This means that, instead of skipping your workout for more sleep, you are actually rescheduling your workout for a time when Daddy could be showering you with his affection. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Exercise at the same time every morning.  Even though you wake up at different times every day, working out at the same time every morning will make it harder to forget or skip your workout.  2. Set an alarm on your phone that will remind you to exercise.  3. Buy a cute and comfortable yoga mat that is extra squishy.  4. Remember that exercising is the healthiest and fastest way to maintain your desired size, shape, and weight. 13. No Cussing Rule: You will not type or say: Ass, Asshole, Bastard, Bitch, Bullshit, Damn, Fuck, Goddamn, Motherfucker, Shit, Son Of A Bitch Reason: As you explained to me, using cuss words makes you feel less little because cuss words are big girl words.  Not cussing is also an effective exercise in self-discipline.  When you remove specific words from your vocabulary, it forces you to think about what you are going to say before you say it.  This is a skill that should be practiced by everyone because words are powerful.  Words can hurt or heal the ones you love.  Choosing the right words can get you hired or fired.  They can strengthen friendships or end relationships.  All too often, people act recklessly by not filtering their thoughts.  When you think before you speak, you avoid unnecessary drama while also improving your ability to communicate effectively. Punishment: You will exercise for an extra fifteen (15) minutes every time you use a cuss word. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: Memorize this list so that you do not use a word thinking that it’s fair game. ———————————————————————————————————–———————————————————————————————————– 14. No Comparing Yourself To Other Women Rule: You will not use Instagram, Pinterest, Tumblr, or any other websites to compare yourself to other women. Reason: Daddy understands that looking at your preferred body type(s) can act as motivation to lose weight and/or exercise; however, this method of inspiration does much more harm than good.  Instead of encouraging you to eat healthy and exercise, comparing yourself to other women only makes my Baby Girl feel ugly and worthless.  This is the opposite of how Daddy wants you to feel because I think you are beautiful, and because you are the most important thing in the world to me. Punishment: Every time you compare yourself to pictures of other women, you will send Daddy a new picture of yourself, followed by one thing you like about yourself in the picture.  Looking at yourself and finding something that you like about your physical appearance will negate some of the bad feelings from looking at other women. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Remember that you already have Daddy for all of forever, and that my love for you is not based on your physical appearance.  2. Block all thinspiration accounts that come across your dash.  3. Follow accounts that share healthy food recipes.  4. Follow accounts that share new, fun exercises. 15. No Insulting Yourself Rule: You will not call yourself: dumb, stupid, disgusting, fat, gross, a troll, ugly, worthless, any variation of these words, and/or any synonym of these words. Reason: As we have discussed, writing these things, typing them, and/or saying them aloud only reinforces your negative opinions about yourself.  The more you repeat them, the more you become accustomed to hearing them and believing that they’re true.  Constantly bullying yourself and putting yourself down makes  you feel sad, it makes you feel like you are not good enough to be with me, and it makes you feel less secure and confident in our relationship together.  When you insult yourself, you hurt yourself, you make Daddy sad, and you slowly lay the foundation for feelings that could one day threaten to end our relationship. Punishment: You will perform a two-minute plank for each insult.  This is an appropriate punishment because a majority of your verbal self-hatred comes from the way you feel about your body and your appearance.  You told Daddy that one of the reasons why you are so hard on yourself is because you are afraid that, if you stop focusing on your imperfections, you will let yourself go.  If accountability and self-improvement are your reasons for degrading and bullying yourself on a daily basis, then you need to reinforce your words with action through exercise. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Instead of calling yourself ugly, ask Daddy why he thinks you’re pretty.  2. Instead of calling yourself stupid, ask Daddy why he thinks you’re smart.  3. Instead of calling yourself worthless, ask Daddy why he wants to marry you.  4. Re-visit all of your Armor Interviews to remind yourself of the positive compliments other people have paid you in the recent past. 16. Accepting Compliments Rule: You will accept all compliments from Daddy without disagreeing or arguing with me.  You will say, “Thank you, Daddy,” every time I give you a compliment of any kind. Reason: Currently, my Baby Girl is not good at accepting compliments because you feel like you do not deserve them.  Compliments, especially from Daddy, are supposed to make you feel good.  They are supposed to build your confidence and uphold your self-esteem.  My compliments are supposed to reassure you of Daddy’s feelings for you, they are supposed to help you feel wanted, and they are supposed to make you feel secure in our relationship.  Ultimately, learning how to accept compliments can help you love the person that you are, and it can strengthen our relationship together.  Since you are bad at accepting compliments, you need practice.  It may take some time, but the longer Daddy forces his Baby Girl to accept compliments, the easier it will become to hear something nice about yourself without immediately believing it’s a lie. Punishment: You will type or write lines of my choosing. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Pay close attention to when your Daddy is giving you a compliment.  2. Remember that your brain will not automatically produce a “Thank you;” instead, thanking Daddy will take a conscious effort on your part.  3. Understand that accepting compliments does not make you vain.  4. Remind yourself that Daddy will not tell you something unless I believe it with all of my heart.  5. Remember that accepting compliments from Daddy makes your Daddy very happy. 17. Daily Selfie Rule: You will send Daddy at least one selfie every day. Reason: Almost nothing makes me happier than seeing my Beautiful Baby Girl.  When we live together, Daddy will see you all the time: in the morning, during the day, after exercising, during a rough sex scene, and in the middle of the night.  Since I want you to feel as safe and comfortable with me as possible, you need to get used to Daddy looking at you by sending one selfie every day.  I know this will be very difficult at first, but the more you do it, the easier it will get, just like Recording A Compliment or writing your Food Diary. Punishment:  If you do not send a Daily Selfie, you will send a Spontaneous Selfie in its place.  You cannot use a filter when you take the Spontaneous Selfie; also, you will take and send the selfie at my command, regardless of lighting, hair, makeup, blemishes, and/or dark circles under your eyes. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Send a selfie right after a shower so that you feel extra fresh and clean.  2. Send a selfie right before going into work so that your makeup is applied.  3. Send a selfie late at night when you have plenty of time to adjust your lighting and grab some props (like Bea, Phil, Max, or Millie). 19. Ownership Rule: You will say “I belong to Daddy,” out loud, every time you take a bath or a shower. Reason: Daddy wants his Baby Girl to feel wanted and owned.  By reminding yourself every day that you are completely mine and no one else’s, Daddy hopes to strengthen your sense of worth and belonging.  I also want you to get used to saying these words aloud so that they spring to your lips whenever anyone flirts with you, hits on you, or tries to take you away from me.  Currently, two of the things your Daddy does to help you feel owned are making your wear my ribbon around your thigh and writing on your body.  Since you have to take off my ribbon before bathing, and taking a shower or bath washes away any writing on your body, this is an especially appropriate time to do something extra to remind yourself that you are Daddy’s Girl.  I also like the idea of you performing this action for me while you are naked since being Daddy’s property means that you will rarely be wearing clothes inside our home. Punishment: You will sit in the corner, on your knees, for thirty minutes, repeating to yourself “I belong to Daddy,” until your time is up. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Say, I belong to Daddy,” while you are cleaning your princess parts.  2. Say, “I belong to Daddy” several times while you are bathing.  3. Think about what it means to be owned by another person.  Consider how much that person must like and love you to want you so badly that they want ownership of you. 20. Reassurance Rule: You will say “I deserve my Daddy,” out loud, every time you get dressed for the day. Reason: I want my Baby Girl to feel comfortable, confident, secure, and safe in our relationship.  I never want you to worry that you are going to lose me.  Even considering the idea that another person could steal me away from you is a ridiculous waste of time.  Both saying and hearing “I deserve my Daddy,” on a regular bases will reinforce the fact that you deserve my love, my time, my attention, and my affection.  Once you become less worried about losing Daddy, it will also become easier for you to communicate even more openly and honestly with me about various things because you will feel confident that whatever you want or need to tell me with not drive your Daddy away. Punishment: You will sit in the corner, on your knees, for thirty minutes, repeating to yourself “I deserve my Daddy,” until your time is up. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Remember that Daddy knows and believes that you truly deserve to be with the best of the best.  2. After telling yourself that you “…deserve [your] Daddy,” think about our good days and our bad days together.  3. Remember that Daddy has seen you when you are sad, anxious, worried, and insecure.  Even on those days, you deserved your Daddy. 21. Enforcing Exclusivity Rule: You will actively defend and protect our relationship from any person or persons who threaten our relationship, regardless of whether they are trying to take you away from me on purpose or subconsciously. Reason: In a world full of broken trust and low self-esteem, it remains true that one of the biggest threats to a happy and healthy relationship is other people.  Whether someone else is jealous of your happiness, envious of your love, or lusting after your significant other, people outside of the relationship often cause the most tension, strife, worry, doubt, and drama between two lovers.  Over the years, Daddy has learned that it is not enough to assume that the world will respect our love and leave us alone.  Instead, we need to stay on the alert for any possible threats to our relationship by asking ourselves, “What is this person’s intention?  Can I trust this person to respect my relationship with Daddy?  Is this person trying to create a rift in my relationship?  Is this person hoping that I will end my relationship to be with them and/or cheat with them?  Does this person have ulterior motives?”  It is healthy to have other friendships, but it is wise to keep an eye on those friendships to make sure they don’t turn into something that could break us apart. Punishment: Constant worrying.  Doubt.  Feelings of insecurity.  Hurt feelings.  Trust issues. Reward: Good Girl Points and a stronger, long-lasting relationship that is both happy and healthy. Suggestions: 1. Use Tunnel Vision.  Using Tunnel Vision means that we do not look at other people and fantasize about what it would be like to date them, be in a relationship with them and/or cheat on each other with them.  2. Be completely transparent with each other.  This is something that you are very good at already, but making sure that we are being completely upfront, open, and honest with each other when it comes to the things that other people say to us can eliminate many problems before they even start.  It also helps us build even more trust in each other.  3. Tell other people that we are in a happy and healthy relationship.  We don’t need to flaunt how amazing our relationship is to those less fortunate than us, but we can prevent unwanted advances by mentioning our relationship in casual conversation so that the person we are talking to knows that we are spoken for and off-limits. 22. No Leaving/Dying Rule: You will not end our relationship by breaking up with me, abandoning me, and/or dying. Reason: Daddy means it when I tell you that I love you now, forever, and always.  Because I love you that much, I desperately desire to be with you as much as possible, as intimately as possible, and for as long as possible.  You are my best friend, my full-time submissive, my Little Girl, my sexy slut, my Girlfriend, and my future Wife.  You are also my source of confidence and happiness.  You are my reason for waking up every day and for making myself the best version of myself that I can be.  I am planning to spend the rest of my life with you.  The rest of my life revolves around you.  That is how I want it to be.  If you and I are no longer together for any reason, my plans would not only change, my whole world would collapse.  This is the first time in my life that I have ever been this happy, and it is all because of you.  Now that I have experienced this level of joy, peace, and certainty, I never want to feel anything else.  I never want to lose this, and I never want to lose you.  I can’t lose you. Punishment: Daddy will become a soul-less, empty shell of a human who only stays alive for his parents. Reward: A long and happy life with Daddy, including (but not limited to): Dragon’s Den!  A clingy kitten that grows into a clingy floof!  A clingy pupper that grows into a clingy doggo!  Booty rubs!  Frequent and powerful orgasms!  Intense cuddle sessions!  Romantic trips to the museum!  Kinky trips to the local park!  Booty rubs!  Pillow forts!  Little Space!  Falling asleep to bedtime stories!  Going to the planetarium!  And, last but not least, booty rubs! Suggestions: 1. Eat healthily and drink lots of water.  2. Always take all of your medicine.  3. Always be aware of your surroundings so that you never wander into a dangerous or life-threatening situation.  4. Practice defensive driving techniques to ensure safety while driving.  5. Never take harmful drugs.  6. Never take too many prescription drugs at one time.  7. Never consume any sort of alcohol without Daddy present.  8. Never allow yourself to be alone with a stranger.  9. Keep your phone charged at all times in case of an emergency.  10. Buy pepper spray and carry it with you at all times.  11. Never self-harm.  12. Never commit suicide.  13. Don’t play on train tracks.  14. Look both ways before crossing the street.  15. Don’t make toast in the bathtub.  16. Remember that no body of water is safe without a lifeguard. 23. Curfew Rule: You will not use any mirrors, look at Tumblr, or watch scary videos after Daddy has gone to sleep. Reason: Tumblr can be cute, fun, and sexy, but the wrong post can make you feel like you are not as cute, skinny, or sexy as you should be.  If you begin to feel this way during the day, your Daddy is there to reassure you that your brain is being stupid, and you look amazing just the way you are.  If, however, you begin to feel this way after Daddy has gone to bed for the night, you spiral very quickly.  Not only do you think mean things about yourself; you sometimes feed your insecurities and feelings of inadequacy by continuing to look at other girls that you think are more attractive.  In the same way, looking in a mirror for too long can also cause you to spiral into self-hatred.  Mirrors also have the potential to make you disassociate.  None of these things are good ways to spend your precious time, and they are certainly not good for your self-image, your confidence, or your mental health.  Most importantly, they do not reflect how Daddy feels about you or how Daddy wants you to feel about yourself.  You are My Baby Girl.  I only have one, and you are it.  Finally, watching scary movies and/or videos at night gives My Baby Girl nightmares.  You know how important it is to get your sleep (you have a whole rule about going to bed on time).  If you keep waking up throughout the night because you have nightmares, or you wake up feeling restless because you were tossing and turning all night, then that precious body of yours is not getting the rest that it needs to be strong and healthy for me. Punishment: If you look in a mirror after curfew, you will not be allowed to use mirrors at all the following day.  If you look at Tumblr after curfew, you will not be allowed on Tumblr at all the following day.  If you watch a scary video after curfew, you will not be allowed to watch anything from that media source (Netflix, Youtube, etc.) the following day. Suggestions: 1. Remove your makeup before Daddy goes to bed so that you have no need of a mirror late at night.  2. Put your Tumblr, Youtube, and Netflix apps in a folder called “Curfew” so that you are always reminded that you cannot use those apps after Daddy goes to sleep.  (You can still use Youtube and Netflix as long as you do not watch anything that is spooky, eerie, or scary.) 24. Morning Routine Rule: Within the first thirty (30) minutes of getting out of bed, you will take your birth control pill, drink one cup of water, and begin your daily exercises. Reason: Starting your day the right way will have a positive influence over the rest of your day.  Following this rule means that you are simultaneously remembering and obeying your exercise rule, as well as getting  a jump start on your medication and water rules.  Not only will this make your Daddy very proud of you, but it will also cross a few items off of your to-do list, which will make the rest of your day more manageable while also making you feel productive.  Daddy almost shouldn't give you a reward for obeying this rule because everything you will do during your morning routine is already part of your other rules, and those rules already have rewards of their own.  Because I love you so much, your Daddy wants to help you be the best version of yourself that you can be, and that means doing everything I can to help you turn these rules into beneficial behaviors. Punishment: If you do not complete your morning routine for any reason, you will go to bed thirty (30) minutes early that night.  This will help you wake up thirty minutes earlier the following day so that you have more time to complete your morning routine while still getting the same amount of rest. Reward: Good Girl Points Suggestions: 1. Go to bed early enough that you can sleep for seven hours and still wake up in time to complete your morning routine without feeling rushed.  2. Before falling asleep, set an alarm that will remind you to do your morning routine when you wake up.  3. Wake up and complete your morning routine at the same time every day.  If you have nothing to do and no where to be when you are finished, you may go back to bed.

[grigori77]

2018 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 1)

30.  MANDY – easily the weirdest shit I saw in 2018, this 2-hour-plus fever dream fantasy horror is essentially an extended prog-rock video with added “plot” from Beyond the Black Rainbow director Panos Cosmatos. Saying that by the end of it I was left feeling exhausted, brain-fried and more than a little weirded-out might not seem like much of a recommendation, but this is, in fact, a truly transformative viewing experience, a film destined for MASSIVE future cult status. Playing like the twisted love-child of David Lynch and Don Coscarelli, it (sort of) tells the story of lumberjack Red Miller (Nicolas Cage) and his illustrator girlfriend Mandy Bloom (Andrea Riseborough), who have an idyllic life in the fantastically fictional Shadow Mountains circa 1983 … at least until Mandy catches the eye of Jeremiah Sand (Linus Roache), the thoroughly insane leader of twisted doomsday cult the Children of the New Dawn, who employs nefarious, supernatural means to acquire her.  But Mandy spurns his advances, leading to a horrific retribution that spurs Red, a traumatised war veteran, to embark on a genuine roaring rampage of revenge.  Largely abandoning plot and motivation for mood, emotion and some seriously trippy visuals, this is an elemental, transcendental film, a series of deeply weird encounters and nightmarish set-pieces that fuel a harrowing descent into a particularly alien, Lovecraftian kind of hell, Cosmatos shepherding in one breathtaking sequence after another with the aid of skilled cinematographer Benjamin Loeb, a deeply inventive design team (clearly drawing inspiration from the artwork of late-70s/early 80s heavy metal albums) and a thoroughly tricked-out epic tone-poem of a score from the late Jôhan Jôhannsson (Sicario, Arrival, Mother!), as well as one seriously game cast.  Cage is definitely on crazy-mode here, initially playing things cool and internalised until the savage beast within is set loose by tragedy, chewing scenery to shreds like there’s no tomorrow, while Riseborough is sweet, gentle and inescapably DOOMED; Roach, meanwhile, is a thoroughly nasty piece of work, an entitled, delusional narcissist thoroughly convinced of his own massive cosmic importance, and there’s interesting support from a raft of talented character actors such as Richard Brake, Ned Dennehy and Bill Duke.  This is some brave, ambitious filmmaking, and a stunning breakthrough for one of the weirdest and most unique talents I’ve stumbled across a good while.  Cosmatos is definitely one to watch.

29.  THE GIRL IN THE SPIDER’S WEB – back in 2011, David Fincher’s adaptation of Stieg Larsson’s runaway bestseller The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo became one of my very favourite screen thrillers EVER, a stone-cold masterpiece and, in my opinion, the superior version of the story even though a very impression Swedish version had broken out in a major way the year before. My love for the film was coloured, however, by frustration at its cinematic underperformance, which meant that Fincher’s planned continuation of the series with Millennium Trilogy sequels The Girl Who Played With Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest would likely never see the light of day. Even so, the fan in me held out hope, however fragile, that we might just get lucky.  Seven years later, we have FINALLY been rewarded for our patience, but not exactly in the fashion we’ve been hoping for … Fincher’s out, Evil Dead-remake and Don’t Breathe writer-director Fede Alvarez is in, and instead of continuing the saga in the logical place the makers of this new film chose the baffling route of a “soft reboot” via adapting the FOURTH Millennium book, notable for being the one released AFTER Larsson’s death, penned by David Lagercrantz, which is set AFTER the original Trilogy. Thing is, the actually end result, contrary to many opinions, is actually pretty impressive – this is a leaner, more fast-paced affair than its predecessor, a breathless suspense thriller that rattles along at quite a clip as we’re drawn deeper into Larsson’s dark, dangerous and deeply duplicitous world and treating fans to some top-notch action sequences, from a knuckle-whitening tech-savvy car chase to a desperate, bone-crunching fight in a gas-filled room.  Frustratingly, the “original” Lisbeth Salander, Rooney Mara, is absent (despite remaining VERY enthusiastic about returning to the role), but The Crown’s Claire Foy is almost as good – the spiky, acerbic and FIERCELY independent prodigious super-hacker remains as brooding, socially-awkward, emotionally complex and undeniably compelling as ever, the same queen of screen badasses I fell in love with nearly a decade ago.  Her investigative journalist friend/occasional lover Mikael Blomkvist is, annoyingly, less well served – Borg Vs McEnroe star Sverrir Gudnasson is charismatic and certainly easy on the eyes, but he’s FAR too young for the role (seriously, he’s only a week older than I am) and at times winds up getting relegated to passive observer status when he’s not there simply to guide the plot forward; we’re better served by the supporting cast, from Lakeith Stanfield (Get Out, Sorry to Bother You) as a mysterious NSA security expert (I know!) to another surprisingly serious turn (after Logan) from The Office’s Stephen Merchant as the reclusive software designer who created the world-changing computer program that spearheads the film’s convoluted plot, and there’s a fantastically icy performance from Blade Runner 2049’s Sylvia Hoeks as Camilla Salander, Lisbeth’s estranged twin sister and psychopathic head of the Spiders, the powerful criminal network once controlled by their monstrous father (The Hobbit’s Mikael Persbrandt).  The film is far from perfect – the plot kind runs away with the story at times, while several supposedly key characters are given frustratingly little development or screen-time – but Alvarez keeps things moving along with typical skill and precision and maintains a tense, unsettling atmosphere throughout, while there are frequently moments of pure genius on display in the script by Alvarez, his regular collaborator Jay Basu and acclaimed screenwriter Steven Knight (Dirty Pretty Things, Locke) – the original novel wasn’t really all that great, but by just taking the bare bones of the plot and crafting something new and original they’ve improved things considerably.  The finished product thrills and rewards far more than it frustrates, and leaves the series in good shape for continuation.  With a bit of luck this time it might do well enough that we’ll finally get those other two movies to plug the gap between this and Fincher’s “original” …

28.  ISLE OF DOGS – I am a MASSIVE fan of the films of Wes Anderson.  Three share placement in my all-time favourite screen comedies list – Grand Budapest Hotel, The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou and, of course, The Royal Tenebaums (which perches high up in my TOP TEN) – and it’s always a pleasure when a new one comes out.  2009’s singular stop-motion gem Fantastic Mr Fox showed just how much fun his uniquely quirky sense of humour and pleasingly skewed world-view could be when transferred into an animated family film setting, so it’s interesting that it took him nearly a decade to repeat the exercise, but the labour of love is writ large upon this dark and delicious fable of dystopian future Japanese city Megasaki, where an epidemic of “dog flu” prompts totalitarian Mayor Kobayashi (voiced by Kunichi Nomura) to issue an edict banishing all of the city’s canine residents to nearby Trash Island. Six months later, Kobayashi’s nephew Atari (newcomer Koyu Rankin) steals a ridiculously tiny plane and crash-lands on Trash Island, intent on rescuing his exiled bodyguard-dog Spots (Liev Schreiber); needless to say this is easier said than done, unforeseen circumstances leading a wounded Atari to enlist the help of a pack of badass “alpha dogs” voiced by Anderson regulars – Rex (Edward Norton), King (Bob Balaban), Boss (Bill Murray) and Duke (Jeff Goldblum) – and nominally led by crabby, unrepentantly bitey stray Chief (Bryan Cranston), to help him find his lost dog in the dangerous wilds of the island.  Needless to say this is as brilliantly odd as we’ve come to expect from Anderson, a perfectly pitched, richly flavoured concoction of razor sharp wit, meticulously crafted characters and immersive beauty.  The cast are, as always, excellent, from additional regulars such as Frances McDormand, Harvey Keitel and F. Murray Abraham to new voices like Greta Gerwig, Scarlett Johansson, Ken Watanabe and Courtney B. Vance, but the film’s true driving force is Cranston and Rankin, the reluctant but honest relationship that forms between Chief and Atari providing the story with a deep, resonant emotional core.  The first rate animation really helps – the exemplary stop-motion makes the already impressive art of Mr Fox seem clunky and rudimentary (think the first Wallace & Gromit short A Grand Day Out compared to their movie Curse of the Were-Rabbit), each character rendered with such skill they seem to be breathing on their own, and Anderson’s characteristic visual flair is on full display, the Japanese setting lending a rich, exotic tang to the compositions, especially in the deeply inventive environs of Trash Island.  Funny, evocative, heartfelt and fiendishly clever, this is one of those rare screen gems that deserves to be returned to again and again, and it’s definitely another masterpiece from one of the most unique filmmakers working today.

27.  VENOM – when Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man saga came to a rather clunky end back in 2007, it felt like a case of too many villains spoiling the rumble, and it was pretty clear that the inclusion of bad-boy reporter Eddie Brock and his dark alter ego was the straw that broke that particular camel’s back.  Venom didn’t even show up proper until almost three quarters of the way through the movie, by which time it was very much a case of too-little-too-late, and many fans (myself included) resented the decidedly Darth Maul-esque treatment of one of the most iconic members of Marvel’s rogues’ gallery.  It’s taken more than a decade for Marvel to redress the balance, even longer than with Deadpool, and, like with the Merc With a Mouth, they decided the only way was a no-holds-barred, R-rated take that could really let the beast loose. Has it worked?  Well … SORT OF.  In truth, the finished article feels like a bit of a throwback, recalling the pre-MCU days when superhero movies were more about pure entertainment without making us think too much, just good old-fashioned popcorn fodder, but in this case that’s not a bad thing.  It’s big, loud, dumb fun, hardly a masterpiece but it does its job admirably well, and it has one hell of a secret weapon at its disposal – Tom Hardy. PERFECTLY cast as morally ambiguous underdog investigative journalist Eddie Brock, he deploys the kind of endearingly sleazy, shit-eating charm that makes you root for him even when he acts like a monumental prick, while really letting rip with some seriously twitchy, sometimes downright FEROCIOUS unhinged craziness once he becomes the unwilling host for a sentient parasitic alien symbiote with a hunger for living flesh and a seriously bad attitude.  This is EASILY one of the best performances Hardy’s ever delivered, and he entrances us in every scene, whether understated or explosive, making even the most outlandish moments of Brock’s unconventional relationship with Venom seem, if not perfectly acceptable, then at least believable.  He’s ably supported by Michelle Williams as San Francisco district attorney Anne Weying, his increasingly exasperated ex-fiancée, Rogue One’s Riz Ahmed as Carlton Drake, the seemingly idealistic space-exploration-funding philanthropist whose darker ambitions have brought a lethal alien threat to Earth, and Parks & Recreation’s Jenny Slate as Drake’s conflicted head scientist Nora Skirth, while there’s a very fun cameo from a particularly famous face in the now ubiquitous mid-credits sting that promises great things in the future.  Director Ruben Fleischer brought us Zombieland and 30 Minutes Or Less, so he certainly knows how to deliver plenty of blackly comic belly laughs, and he brings plenty of seriously dark humour to the fore, the rating meaning the comedy can get particularly edgy once Venom starts to tear up the town; it also fulfils the Marvel prerequisite of taking its action quota seriously, delivering a series of robust set-pieces (the standout being a spectacular bike chase through the streets of San Fran, made even more memorable by the symbiote’s handy powers). Best of all, the film isn’t afraid to get genuinely scary with some seriously nasty alien-induced moments of icky body horror, captured by some strangely beautiful effects works that brings Venom and his ilk to vivid, terrifying life.  Flawed as it is, this is still HUGE fun, definitely one of the year’s biggest cinematic guilty pleasures, and I for one can’t wait to see more from the character in the near future, which, given what a massive success the film has already proven at the box office, seems an ironclad certainty.

26.  SOLO: A STAR WARS STORY – the second of Disney’s new phase of Star Wars movies to feature in the non-trilogy-based spinoff series had a rough time after its release – despite easily recouping its production budget, it still lost the $100-million+ it spent on advertising, while it was met with extremely mixed reviews and shunned by many hardcore fans.  I’ll admit that I too was initially disappointed with this second quasi prequel to A New Hope (after the MUCH more impressive Rogue One), but a second, more open-minded viewing after a few months to ruminate mellowed my experience considerably, the film significantly growing on me.  An origin story for the Galaxy’s most lovable rogue was always going to be a hard sell – Han Solo is an enjoyable enigma in The Original Trilogy, someone who lives very much in the present, his origins best revealed in the little details we glean about him in passing – but while it’s a flawed creation, this interstellar heist adventure mostly pulls off what was intended.  Like many fans of The Lego Movie, I remain deeply curious about what original director duo Phil Lord and Chris Miller could have achieved with the material, but I wholeheartedly approved Disney’s replacement choice when he was announced – Ron Howard is one of my favourite “hit-and-miss” directors, someone who’s made some clunkers in his time (The Da Vinci Code, we’re looking at you) but can, on a good day, be relied on to deliver something truly special (Willow is one of my VERY FAVOURITE movies from my childhood, one that’s stood up well to the test of time, and a strong comparison point for this; Apollo 13 and Rush, meanwhile, are undeniable MASTERPIECES), and in spite of its shortcomings I’m ultimately willing to consider this one of his successes. Another big step in the right direction was casting Hail, Caesar! star Alden Ehrenreich in the title role – Harrison Ford’s are seriously huge shoes to fill, but this talented young man has largely succeeded.  He may not quite capture that wonderful growling drawl but he definitely got Han’s cocky go-getter swagger right, he’s particularly strong in the film’s more humorous moments, and he has charisma to burn, so he sure makes entertaining viewing.  It also helps that the film has such a strong supporting cast – with original Chewbacca Peter Mayhew getting too old for all this derring-do nonsense, former pro basketball-player Joonas Suotamo gets a little more comfortable in his second gig (after The Last Jedi) in the “walking carpet” suit, while Woody Harrelson adds major star power as Tobias Beckett, Han’s likeably slippery mentor in all things criminal in the Star Wars Universe, and Game of Thrones’ Emilia Clarke is typically excellent as Han’s first love Qi’ra, a fellow Corellian street orphan who’s grown up into a sophisticated thief of MUCH higher calibre than her compatriots.  The film is dominated, however, by two particularly potent scene-stealing turns which make you wonder if it’s really focused on the right rogue’s story – Community star Donald Glover exceeds all expectations as Han’s old “friend” Lando Calrissian, every bit the laconic smoothie he was when he was played by Billy Dee Williams back in the day, while his droid companion L3-37 (voiced with flawless comic skill by British stage and sitcom actress Phoebe Waller-Bridge) frequently walks away with the film entirely, a weirdly flirty and lovably militant campaigner for droid rights whose antics cause a whole heap of trouble.  The main thing the film REALLY lacks is a decent villain – Paul Bettany’s oily kingpin Dryden Voss is distinctive enough to linger in the memory, but has criminally short screen-time and adds little real impact or threat to the main story, only emphasising the film’s gaping, Empire-shaped hole.  Even so, it’s still a ripping yarn, a breathlessly exciting and frequently VERY funny space-hopping crime caper that relishes that wonderful gritty, battered old tech vibe we’ve come to love throughout the series as a whole and certainly delivers on the action stakes – the vertigo-inducing train heist sequence is easily the film’s standout set-piece, but the opening chase and the long-touted Kessel Run impress too – it only flags in the frustrating and surprisingly sombre final act.  The end result still has the MAKINGS of a classic, and there’s no denying it’s also more enjoyable and deep-down SATISFYING than the first two films in George Lucas’ far more clunky Prequel Trilogy.  Rogue One remains the best of the new Star Wars movies so far, but this is nothing like the disappointment it’s been made out to be.

25.  AQUAMAN – the fortunes of the DC Extended Universe cinematic franchise continue to fluctuate – these films may be consistently successful at the box office, but they’re a decidedly mixed bag when it comes to their quality and critical opinion, and the misses still outweigh the hits.  Still, you can’t deny that when they DO do things right, they do them VERY right – 2017’s acclaimed Wonder Woman was a long-overdue validation for the studio, and they’ve got another winner on their hands with this bold, brash, VERY ballsy solo vehicle for one of the things that genuinely WORKED in the so-so Justice League movie.  Jason Momoa isn’t just muscular in the physical sense, once again proving seriously ripped in the performance capacity as he delivers rough, grizzled charm and earthy charisma as half-Atlantean Arthur Curry, called upon to try and win back the royal birthright he once gave up when his half-brother Prince Orm (Watchmen’s Patrick Wilson), ruler of Atlantis, embarks on a brutal quest to unite the seven underwater kingdoms under his command in order to wage war on the surface world.  Aquaman has long been something of an embarrassment for DC Comics, an unintentional “gay joke” endlessly derided by geeks (particularly cuttingly in the likes of The Big Bang Theory), but in Momoa’s capable hands that opinion has already started to shift, and the transition should be complete after this – Arthur Curry is now a swarthy, hard-drinking alpha male tempered with a compellingly relatable edge of deep-seeded vulnerability derived from the inherent tragedy of his origins and separation from the source of his immense superhuman strength, and he’s the perfect flawed action hero for this most epic of superhero blockbusters.  Amber Heard is frequently as domineering a presence as Atlantean princess Mera, a powerful warrior in her own right and fully capable of heading her own standalone adventure someday, and Wilson makes for a very solid and decidedly sympathetic villain whose own motivations can frequently be surprisingly seductive, even if his methods are a good deal more nefarious, while The Get Down’s Yahya Abdul-Mateen II is more down-and-dirty BAD as David Kane, aka the Black Manta, a lethally tech-savvy pirate who has a major score to settle with the Aquaman; there’s also strong support from the likes of Willem Dafoe as Curry’s sage-like mentor Vulko, Dolph Lundgren as Mera’s father, King Nereus, the ever-reliable Temuera Morrison as Arthur’s father Thomas, and Nicole Kidman as his ill-fated mother Atlanna.  Director James Wan is best known for establishing horror franchises (Saw, Insidious, The Conjuring), but he showed he could do blockbuster action cinema with Fast & Furious 7, and he’s improved significantly with this, delivering one gigantic action sequence after another with consummate skill and flair as well as performing some magnificent and extremely elegant world-building, unveiling dazzling, opulent and exotic undersea civilizations that are the equal to the forests of Pandora in Avatar, but he also gets to let some of his darker impulses show here and there, particularly in a genuinely scary visit to the hellish world of the Trench and its monstrous denizens.  It may not be QUITE as impressive as Wonder Woman, and it still suffers (albeit only a little bit) from the seemingly inherent flaws of the DCEU franchise as a whole (particularly in yet another overblown CGI-cluttered climax), but this is still another big step back in the right direction, one which, once again, we can only hope they’ll continue to repeat.  I’ll admit that the next offering, Shazam, doesn’t fill me with much confidence, but you never know, it could surprise us.  And there’s still Flashpoint, The Batman and Birds of Prey to come …

24.  THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI – filmmaker brothers Martin and John Michael McDonagh have carved an impressive niche in cinematic comedy this past decade, from decidedly Irish breakout early works (In Bruges from Martin and The Guard and Calvary from John) to enjoyable outsider-looking-in American crim-coms (Martin’s Seven Psychopaths and John’s War On Everyone), and so far they’ve all had one thing in common – they’re all BRILLIANT.  But Martin looks set to be the first brother to be truly accepted into Hollywood Proper, with his latest feature garnering universal acclaim, massive box office and heavyweight Awards recognition, snagging an impressive SEVEN Oscar nominations and taking home two, as well as landing a Golden Globe and BAFTA for Best Picture.  It’s also the most thoroughly AMERICAN McDonagh film to date, and this is no bad thing, Martin shedding his decidedly Celtic flavours for an edgier Redneck charm that perfectly suits the material … but most important of all, from a purely critical point of view this could be the very BEST film either of the brothers has made to date.  It’s as blackly comic and dark-of-soul as we’d expect from the creator of In Bruges, but there’s real heart and tenderness hidden amongst the expletive-riddled, barbed razor wit and mercilessly observed, frequently lamentable character beats.  Frances McDormand thoroughly deserved her Oscar win for her magnificent performance as Mildred Hayes, a take-no-shit shopkeeper in the titular town whose unbridled grief over the brutal rape and murder of her daughter Angela (Kathryn Newton) has been exacerbated by the seeming inability of the local police force to solve the crime, leading her to hire the ongoing use of a trio of billboards laying the blame squarely at the feet of popular, long-standing local police Chief Bill Willoughby (Woody Harrelson). Needless to say this kicks up quite the shitstorm in the town, but Mildred stands resolute in the face of seemingly overwhelming odds, refusing to back down.  McDormand has never been better – Mildred is a foul-mouthed, opinionated harpy who tells it like it is, no matter who she’s talking to, but there’s understandable pain driving her actions, and a surprisingly tender heart beating under all that thorniness; Harrelson, meanwhile, is by turns a gruff shit-kicker and a gentle, doting family man, silently suffering over his own helplessness with the dead end the case seems to have turned into.  The film’s other Oscar-winner, Sam Rockwell, also delivers his finest performance to date as Officer Jason Dixon, a true disgrace of a cop whose permanent drunkenness has marred a career which, it turns out, began with some promise; he’s a thuggish force-of-nature, Mildred’s decidedly ineffectual nemesis whose own equally foul-mouthed honesty is set to dump him in trouble big time, but again there’s a deeply buried vein of well-meaning ambition under all the bigotry and pigheadedness we can’t help rooting for once it reveals itself.  There’s strong support from some serious heavyweights, particularly John Hawkes, Caleb Landry Jones, Peter Dinklage, Abbie Cornish and Manchester By the Sea’s breakout star Lucas Hedges, while McDonagh deserves every lick of acclaim and recognition he’s received for his precision-engineered screenplay, peerless direction and crisp, biting dialogue, crafting a jet black comedy nonetheless packed with so much emotional heft that it’ll have you laughing your arse off but crying your eyes out just as hard.  An honest, unapologetic winner, then.

23.  RED SPARROW – just when you thought we’d seen the last of the powerhouse blockbuster team of director Francis Lawrence and star Jennifer Lawrence with the end of The Hunger Games, they reunite for this far more adult literary feature, bringing Jason Matthews’ labyrinthine spy novel to bloody life.  Adapted by Revolutionary Road screenwriter Justin Haythe, it follows the journey of Russian star ballerina Dominika Egorova (Lawrence) into the shadowy world of post-Glasnost Russian Intelligence after an on-stage accident ruins her career.  Trained to use her body and mind to seduce her targets, Dominika becomes a “Sparrow”, dispatched to Budapest to entrap disgraced CIA operative Nate Nash (Joel Edgerton) and discover the identity of the deep cover double agent in Moscow he was forced to burn his own cover to protect.  But Dominika never wanted any of this, and she begins to plot her escape, no matter the risks … as we’ve come to expect, Jennifer Lawrence is magnificent, her glacial beauty concealing a fierce intelligence and deeply guarded desperation to get out, her innate sensuality rendered clinical by the raw, unflinching gratuity of her training and seduction scenes – this is a woman who uses ALL the weapons at her disposal to get what she needs, and it’s an icy professionalism that informs and somewhat forgives Lawrence’s relative lack of chemistry with Edgerton.  Not that it’s his fault – Nate is nearly as compelling a protagonist as Dominika, a roguish chancer whose impulsiveness could prove his undoing, but also makes him likeable and charming enough for us to root for him too.  Bullhead’s Matthias Schoenarts is on top form as the film’s nominal villain, Dominika’s uncle Ivan, the man who trapped her in this hell in the first place, Charlotte Rampling is beyond cold as the “Matron”, the cruel headmistress of the Sparrow School, Joely Richardson is probably the gentlest, purest ray of light in the film as Dominika’s ailing mother Nina, and Jeremy Irons radiates stately gravitas as high-ranking intelligence officer General Vladimir Andreievich Korchnoi.  This is a tightly-paced, piano wire-taut thriller with a suitably twisty plot that constantly wrong-foots the viewer, Lawrence the director again showing consummate skill at weaving flawlessly effective narrative with scenes of such unbearable tension you’ll find yourself perched on the edge of your seat throughout.  It’s a much less explosive film than we’re used to from him – most of the fireworks are of the acting variety – but there are moments when the tension snaps, always with bloody consequences, especially in the film’s standout sequence featuring a garrotte-driven interrogation that turns particularly messy.  The end result is a dark thriller of almost unbearable potency that you can’t take your eyes off.  Here’s hoping this isn’t the last time Lawrence & Lawrence work together …

22.  WIDOWS – Steve McQueen is one of the most challenging writer-directors working in Hollywood today, having exploded onto the scene with hard-hitting IRA-prison-biopic Hunger and subsequently adding to his solid cache of acclaimed works with Shame and 12 Years a Slave, but there’s a strong argument to be made that THIS is his best film to date. Co-adapted from a cult TV-series from British thriller queen Lynda La Plante by Gone Girl and Sharp Objects-author Gillian Flynn, it follows a group of women forced to band together to plan and execute a robbery in order to pay off the perceived debt incurred by their late husbands, who died trying to steal $2 million from Jamal Manning (If Beale Street Could Talk’s Brian Tyree Henry), a Chicago crime boss with ambitions to go legit as alderman of the city’s South Side Precinct.  Viola Davis dominates the film as Veronica Rawlings, the educated and fiercely independent wife of accomplished professional thief Harry (a small but potent turn from Liam Neeson), setting the screen alight with a barely restrained and searing portrayal of devastating grief and righteous anger, and is ably supported by a trio of equally overwhelming performances from Michelle Rodriguez as hard-pressed mother and small-businesswoman Linda Perelli, The Man From UNCLE’s Elizabeth Debicki as Alice Gunner, an abused widow struggling to find her place in the world now she’s been cut off from her only support-mechanism, and Bad Times At the El Royale’s Cynthia Eriyo as Belle, the tough, gutsy beautician/babysitter the trio enlist to help them once they realise they need a fourth member.  Henry is a deceptively subtle, thoroughly threatening presence throughout the film as Manning, as is Get Out’s Daniel Kaluuya as his thuggish brother/lieutenant Jatemme, and Colin Farrell is seemingly decent but ultimately fatally flawed as his direct political rival, reigning alderman Jack Mulligan, while there are uniformly excellent supporting turns from the likes of Robert Duvall, Carrie Coon, Lukas Haas, Jon Bernthal and Kevin J. O’Connor.  McQueen once again delivers an emotionally exhausting and effortlessly powerful tour-de-force, wringing out the maximum amount of feels from the loaded and deeply personal human interactions on display throughout, and once again proves just as effective at delivering on the emotional fireworks as he is in stirring our blood in some brutal set-pieces, while Flynn help to deliver another perfectly pitched, intricately crafted script packed with exquisite dialogue and shrewdly observed character work which is sure to net her some major wins come Awards season.  Unflinching and devastating but thoroughly exhilarating, this is an extraordinary film (and if this was a purely critical list it would surely have placed A LOT higher), thoroughly deserving of every bit of praise, attention and success it has and will go on to garner.  An absolute must-see.

21.  JURASSIC WORLD: FALLEN KINGDOM – Colin Trevorrow’s long-awaited 2015 Jurassic Park sequel was a major shot in the arm for a killer blockbuster franchise that had been somewhat flagging since Steven Spielberg brought dinosaurs back to life for the second time, but (edgier tone aside) it was not quite the full-on game-changer some thought it would be.  The fifth film, directed by J.A. Bayona (The Impossible, A Monster Calls) and written by Trevorrow and his regular script-partner Derek Connolly (Safety Not Guaranteed and JW, as well as Warner Bros’ recent “Monsterverse” landmark Kong: Skull Island), redresses the balance – while the first act of the film once again returns to the Costa Rican island of Isla Nublar, it’s become a very different environment from the one we’ve so far experienced, and a fiendish plot-twist means the film then takes a major swerve into MUCH darker territory than we’ve seen so far.  Giving away anything more does a disservice to the series’ most interesting story to date, needless to say this is EASILY the franchise’s strongest feature since the first, and definitely the scariest.  Hollywood’s most unusual everyman action hero, Chris Pratt, returns as raptor wrangler Owen Brady, enlisted to help rescue as many dinosaurs as possible from an impending, cataclysmic volcanic eruption, but in particular his deeply impressive trained raptor Blue, now the last of her kind; Bryce Dallas Howard is also back as former Jurassic World operations manager turned eco-campaigner Claire Dearing, and her His Girl Friday-style dynamic with Pratt’s Brady is brought to life with far greater success here, their chemistry far more convincing because Claire has become a much more well-rounded and believably tough lady, now pretty much his respective equal.  There are also strong supporting turns from the likes of Rafe Spall, The Get Down’s Justice Smith, The Vampire Diaries/The Originals’ breakout star Daniella Pineda, the incomparable Ted Levine (particularly memorable as scummy mercenary Ken Wheatley) and genuine screen legend James Cromwell, but as usual the film’s true stars are the dinosaurs themselves – it’s a real pleasure seeing Blue return because the last velociraptor was an absolute treat in Jurassic World, but she’s clearly met her match in this film’s new Big Bad, the Indoraptor, a lethally monstrous hybrid cooked up in Ingen’s labs as a living weapon.  Bayona cut his teeth on breakout feature The Orphanage, so he’s got major cred as an accomplished horror director, and he uses that impressive talent to great effect here, weaving an increasingly potent atmosphere of wire-taut dread and delivering some nerve-shredding set-pieces, particularly the intense and moody extended stalk-and-kill stretch that brings the final act to its knuckle-whitening climax.  It’s not just scary, though – there’s still plenty of that good old fashioned wonder and savage beauty we’ve come to expect from the series, and another hefty dose of that characteristic Spielbergian humour (Pratt in particular shines in another goofy, self-deprecating turn, while Smith steals many of the film’s biggest laughs as twitchy, out-of-his-comfort-zone tech wizard Franklin).  Throw in another stirring and epic John Williams-channelling score from Michael Giacchino and this is an all-round treat for the franchise faithful and blockbuster fans in general – EASILY the best shape the series has been in for some time, it shows HUGE promise for the future.

[randomnessunicorn-imagine]

✒️ DDLC Fanfiction - The Princess of the Desires - 2nd Part-  ✒️

>> Chapter 1: In the wood <<

Chapter 2: The cry

“The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.”

(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

This day was proceeding calmly even though the weather did not seem to get better.

Monika did not seem very troubled by the darkness, her steps were calm, you followed her silently. Nothing seemed to be able to disturb her soul, as if she lived in a dimension of peace and harmony, this girl intrigued you a lot. Her ways were composed and gallant, she was a real lady, even if you two had not talked a lot, your fantasy did not move away from reality.

After a walk, not very quiet due to the cold weather, you arrived at the gates of a majestic and gigantic villa. Something you have never seen in your dreams.

"Is this your house?" You asked her, you were impressed.

"Yes, and it would be better to enter, this climate doesn’t look good." She said, crossing the vast gate that separated the part of the forest from her house.

The air was damp, the comforting and salty smell of rain flooded your nostrils, evidently Monika was not mistaken and a storm was about to come, not that there was the need to some magical feats to understand it because the sky was dark and the wind continued to howl threateningly.

If it were not for this girl, you would still be on a tree and maybe even hit by a lightning, so you continued to follow her without delay.

Nobody came to the door to welcome Monika, as if no one lived here, which was strange. There were not even employees like maids, valets or housekeepers, you expected that a huge villa like this would require a huge staff but maybe you were fantasizing too much, after all you did not know anything about this girl and her family.

Then, as if Monika had read your mind, she answered to the questions of your subconscious, "I live here alone. I mean, my parents are often out of town for work and so I stay here by myself but it's not a big deal, it's hard to get bored in a place like this.” She explained.

Here Monika could cultivate all the hobbies she wanted, but, despite she said she was fine, you noticed a veil of melancholy in her voice.

Actually, Monika was truly glad to have you here with her, for once she could share her passions with someone. Even the loneliest man in the world from time to time needed some human contact and Monika was looking for a friend, it was an unexpressed desire but you were able to read it in her emerald gaze. Her eyes were simply magnificent, you thought, as if a talented artist had painted them on her face. Her green eyes were bright, they held strong emotions that you did not understand but, perhaps, you would have learned to know them by standing next to this girl.

“I’m sorry you’re here all alone, it must be tiring…” you confessed your thought aloud and you hoped she would not take your opinion as offensive but a sweet smile appeared on her face.

“Yes, it is sometimes, but feel free to take a seat wherever you want. Can I offer you something? It’s pretty cold and it’s going to rain soon.” Monika explained as the two of you reached her big living room. It was enchanting. Reproductions of famous paintings hung on the walls of the room.

Monika was the definition of “intellectual”, she appeared so smart and cultured but, despite it, she was not arrogant and the aura that surrounded her was comfortable and soothing.

“Oh, I’d like a cup of cocoa, thanks.” You said and she smiled, nodding.

Everything in this house was amazing, for a moment, you had the feeling of being in a real museum, and maybe, at any minute, a group of tourists would appear from behind a door to take pictures of these splendid paintings, even if they were not original, they still marvelled you.

From behind the door did not appeared any tourist but only a smiling Monika who held a tray filled with your chocolate and her tea.

The moment she placed the tray on the little table, a lighting blinded the entire room, after some seconds the thunder pounced the earth, and a shiver crossed your spine.

“Such a violent storm isn’t it?” she said, sitting on the sofa and you nodded,

Storms like this made you nervous but then you found your serenity in the cocoa you were about to drink and everything now looked sweet.

In the eyes of Monika, you appeared just like a child, this filled her heart with tenderness.

“It’s delicious. It’s almost like my mom’s.” you said, drinking slowly.

“Glad you like it. Anyway, what about you? Do you live with your parents?” she asked, politely.

“Yes, I live with my parents and my three sisters. I have two littler sisters and the other is bigger than me. We are a very enormous family and there’s not even one second of rest or peace.” You explained, smiling.

Monika felt a sort of envy but this sentiment vanished instantly when she spoke, “Oh, interesting. It seems you love them so much!” she deducted.

“Yes, I love them a lot, I think it’s normal. Who doesn’t love its family?” you exposed a simple thought, it appeared an evident concept but not for everyone this concept was so obvious.

“It’s clear.” Monika just nodded, she found you so naïve and sweet, you were the company she desired.

Subsequently, another thunder ruined the tranquillity of the domestic environment.

You jumped, almost dropped your cup of chocolate, which you placed on the table in front of you.

"This storm was unexpected, who knows how long it lasts." You said, worried.

"I don’t know but it seems to get worse. However, you can stay here until it stops.” Monika proposed, kind as always.

"Oh, thank you very much, but I don’t want my parents to worry, in the exact moment when they rain quits, I'll run home as fast as I can without ever stopping." You said with determination even if your plan did not make much sense, Monika admired your willpower.

"You look like a girl who often gets into trouble." she said, chuckling and you blushed.

"Well, sometimes... It happens..." you confessed, sighing.

"But you always resolve the situation and eventually you come back home safe and sound." Monika kept saying with an amused smirk on her face.

"We do what we can!" You said, embarrassed.

"So your parents have nothing to fear, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go outside with this unpredictable weather. For once, it is better to sit here in the dried instead of defying the tempest." Monika said wisely, and certainly, if you had run like crazy in the rain, nobody would have saved you from a cold, and you did not want to get sick.

The time you spent with Monika passed pleasantly and with her you felt free to talk about every possible topic because she was a very open-minded girl, she knew many things about a multitude of subjects and you were impressed of her talents and knowledge.

She was a grand literature lover, and she often composed poetries and poems and her dream was to become a writer. You could just admire a person like her and you hoped the two of you would become friends.

You talked to her about your family, about your father's work, he worked in the construction industry and you often helped him even if it was hard but you tried to do your best. Your mother, however, was a housewife and took care of your younger sisters. Sometimes, your mother worked as tailor for some friends and every saved money would be helpful for the family.

Your other sister, the oldest of the four, was unemployed, you did not want to talk about her because the thought of her made you very sad. You loved your sister but you were unable to help her since she was having a hard time and therefore you did not want to darken the atmosphere of this enchanting evening with your sorrow so you showed to Monika one of your most beautiful smile.

Your family was not wealthy, but you were happy and satisfied of the life you live. You were not so unlucky, after all, and Monika admired your pure heart, she understood you were a person of value and humility.

In the meantime, the storm did not want to stop, indeed, it got even worse and only a mad man would go outside with such a weather.

“I suppose it’s going to rain all the night.” Said Monika, sighing.

“Yes… It’s bad!” the time you spent with Monika made you forget about every preoccupations and now you wondered how you would come back home.

“Why don’t you stay here for the night? I’ve several guest rooms and you can accommodate in one of them.” Monika proposed, she was truly gentle to invite you and she was saving you a second time.

She was just an angel that someone has sent to the earth to help you, there was no other explication.

“Are you sure? Won’t I bother you?” you said, embarrassed.

“No, you’re the nicest guest I ever had and it’s a pleasure.” She said, smiling.

This villa was so enormous that you could lose yourself, and it would be nice playing the game of hide and seek in a place like this. You bet, your little sisters would love playing here, and you were so curious to explore every area of this gigantic house even if you were just a guest and it would be very impolite to look around without permission like a meddler.

Your chamber was spacious and elegant, the walls were painted with a tint of light purple, the bed was a queen-size bed, and you would have slept like a real queen.

Everything was so precious and regal that you wondered if you have been catapulted in another epoch. It was so surreal and fascinating, it was like a dream, you launched yourself on the bed, smelling the fragrance of scots pine that covered the blankets.

You were about to fall asleep, your eyelids were so heavy, the bed so comfortable and you could not deny a deserved rest.

Your mind was light, your eyes closed, and your body so relaxed when suddenly this peace has been disturbed by a sound, it seemed, it came from your head.

It was a crying, someone was crying but there was nobody in the room so maybe your imagination was tricking you. Alternatively, maybe it was the sound of the rain outside but it seemed a real crying.

The sky was actually crying and this explication was the most logical, but it was also very poetic, you could give to yourself. This thought made you smile.

You just ignored this event, and this infernal weather confused you a lot, so you decided to go to sleep, and you were so tired that you fell asleep instantly.

You spent a pleasant night at Monika's and you slept as peacefully as a real princess did.

You remembered having dreamed but you did not remember anything about your dream. You recalled those cries, moans of pain but it was too unspecified and you could not define that voice, but it was only a trick of your mind, they were normal dreams and now it was time for you to go home.

"Did you sleep well, Y/N?" Monika asked, offering you the breakfast. She had prepared the hot chocolate that you loved so much with bread and jam, there was also an apple pie that smelled so delicious. You were starving, the day before you skipped dinner and you were so tired that you had fallen asleep at nine o’clock in the evening.

"Oh, you're too kind, Monika. Everything seems exquisite!” you said, eating your breakfast.

You felt spoiled and loved here, you were sorry to leave Monika alone but your family had to be very worried about you and Monika understood your feelings of nostalgia.

"The storm seems to have passed." She said.

"Thank you very much for your hospitality." You thanked your new friend.

"Can you promise me to come see me again?" Monika's tone sounded very serious but also a little sad so you nodded, unable to say no to her kindness.

"Sure, I promise!" then she smiled, hearing what she wanted to hear.

After breakfast, Monika greeted you and you walked towards your house, observing how the landscape shrunk as you walked away, and you entered the forest but you would not be lost this time.

Monika looked content and she really wished you would come back to visit her.

[ TO BE CONTINUED ]

See you next sunday for the new chapter!