#i... am also however aware how similar their story is...

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

🐈

Your random OC is... Fallensmoke!

Fallensmoke is a gray-and-white molly with teal eyes, long claws, dark whiskers, and faded scars on her back and on the back of her neck. She is the other half of Weaselfur, whose alternate description was used.

Meaning she technically has a sprite.

She is Kestralflight's sister, known as the more rebellious type. Mentored by Webfoot, who very much had his paws full with her. She was quiet, but she had the tendency to question everything, and be a bit of a boundary pusher. Where Kestrelflight fully believes in Starclan, Fallensmoke had quite a few doubts for a while! However, she is extremely family oriented and would do anything for her beloved brother. If he needed her to send a prayer request to the Moonpool because he was too busy, she would be marching down there in a heartbeat.

Also, her name was not always Fallen-suffix. She was originally named Fawnkit until she was grabbed by a hawk a little while before her apprentice ceremony. She slashed at the hawk's belly with her long claws and it let her go into the camp. Not only were the scratches it left quite pretty when they scarred up, but the fall left her completely unshaken!

She sat back, let the older cats fuss over her and asked Onestar "So, when is my ceremony again? Sorry, I didn't catch what you said."

He made her and Kestralkit apprentices on the spot.

She became Fallenpaw, then Fallensmoke during Long Shadows, as she did not participate in the Eclipse battle and failed a hunting assessment.

But later on, during Omen Of The Stars, she fell for someone during those long, warm nights when After-Gatherings ran late. Someone she probably shouldn't have.

Fallensmoke falls in love with Redwillow. His passion endears her to him, he talk of revolution, about how much he wishes the Clans would change, about his grief for his recently passed on mother, died during the Drought.

She listened to him, and they spent a lot of time together. They fall in love and Redwillow swears that he will protect her, he will make the Clans change.

Fallensmoke didn't realize how serious he was. She soon after found out she was pregnant, carrying his kits. He responded to it well enough, but began talking about how exactly he was planning to change things. His Dark Forest mentor, Rushtooth, was going to help him destroy the Clans, to put them back together of course! He began pointing out more Dark Forest Trainees, naming their mentors, more and more horrifying historical figures got name dropped, more and more would a chilling glint form in Redwillow's eyes...

She ran. She never attended another Gathering again. She kept to herself and when the Great Battle came, Fallensmoke heavily pregnant, Redwillow found her again, begging and pleading to just listen to me and please come with us I swear I'll fix it

She didn't say anything, what was she supposed to say when Redwillow looked at her, fur matted and faded like he hadn't taken care of himself in ages, his eyes desperate and pleading and full of love but paired with something Fallensmoke couldn't out to words.

She hid behind Lionblaze, who quickly drove Redwillow off. The last Fallensmoke would hear about him was that he had been killed by Rowanclaw after murdering Blackstar alongside Ratscar.

5 day laster, Fallensmoke gave birth to 2 kits. A tiny white kitten with gray flecks, named Goosekit, and a mottled brown and ginger kitten with a large head, a little copy of its father.

She names it Willowkit.

[wandagcre]

drive you mad (part 2) | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You had enough of your complicated relationship with Sam. You’re trying out new coping mechanisms to move on, but sadly, even going on a date with another person didn’t make things better. However, your best friend had too many tricks under her sleeve, willing to try them all to have you again.

WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, fluff, some of sam's daddy issues, possessive sex, strap-on, subdrop, jealous sam, breeding kink, blow job, dubcon(?), humiliation, fake cum, praise, edging, implied size difference, mentions of violence and stalking, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship, just a lot of reader and sam fucking like rabbits omg, not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 18k+ Note: BEAR WITH ME. I am aware of how much of a lengthy (wink wink) last part this is but I swear things are looking good ;) hope everyone enjoys it!

[ LAST PART of TWO | Previous ]

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Apparently, the worst thing that can happen is that your date for tonight shares few similarities with Sam.

You try to be humoured with how it started with your same friend again, it’s like she simply knew what your type was. Your date's name was Lucy and while she didn’t possess the tanned skin that you loved; she was still taller than you, her mother tongue happens to also be Spanish, and she also had an attractive set of thick eyebrows. 

The resemblance in terms of characteristics was uncanny.

At first it felt foreign to you to dive into an established romantic date after a while. Besides the comparisons that your brain kept making, you were also unsure if any of the ones with Sam actually counts. 

Nonetheless, it's been so long since you’ve been into one, you feel like a newborn learning to walk.

To Lucy’s credit, it was an enjoyable experience. She was considerate of your taste, threw you compliments that weren't only out of politeness, and preferred that the two of you decide which place you’ll be more comfortable in. Lucy was specific and admittedly it helped, because you had the tendency to be indecisive. She was chatty and at times it was comical with how she told you little stories that genuinely made you laugh as you dined in an Italian restaurant.

Lucy also took you to an arcade that recently opened. It was creating quite a buzz around, based on how you constantly see teenagers flock enthusiastically in the area. 

Surrounded with glowing lights and bold, colorful neon signs, packed with a variety of games you haven't even seen before. The place was indeed inviting for you to let loose.

“This is cliché. But in a good way. I haven’t been in a place like this for a while now,” you look up to your date who had an unwavering smile.

“See! Clichés can be good! Opens the forgotten memory you once enjoyed.” Lucy beamed at you. “What’s your favorite game to play? I’d have to say I’m great at these things, so we’re totally going to win something by the end!”

“Even the claw machines?” You jab playfully at Lucy's confidence. “Aren't they always rigged? I believe just the same since I never won anything from those things.”

“Can't argue with that. Sometimes it's all about the timing and well, other times, all rigged business as you say. Lucky for you, I happen to be good at this stuff!" Lucy stretched her hands outward, comically, cracking her neck muscles as well. 

You can’t help but snort at the sight. Nerves were slightly put into ease, because tonight was going well. She won you a dolphin stuffed toy and she definitely hard carried the gunning zombie game of two players, where Lucy amusingly acted out as though she was in real despair with your character constantly dying. You had a great time.

Even if Sam continued to ebb in your mind. 

“Lucy, thanks for tonight.” She opened the car door for you and you exhaled with relief because you did enjoy her company. “I had a lot of fun, even if I kept dying on those two player games.”

She leaned on her car, Lucy’s look remained at you. “I did too. I was happy to be accompanied by a beautiful date. Totally worth the coins! But do know that I don’t mind if we do this again…” she extended her hand to yours, silently asking for permission if you’d let her hold you, which you accepted. “And I also won’t mind if you say no. I’ll be a bit bummed, sure, but I can handle it.”

You sense Lucy's nervousness as she fiddles with your hands, head looking down while sporting an upturned mouth. You’re still wearing the jean jacket she lent you from earlier, and insisted that you needed it more because she can handle the cold breeze better.

You loathed to think that maybe, if a specific woman didn’t occupy your mind and body this much—maybe—you’d get a better shot with the lovely woman right in front of you.

“I appreciate how you’ve been so good to me all night,” you tighten your hold, it was softer than what you were looking for. Unaccustomed to the calloused hands you have grown to love over the past few months.

“I sense that there’s a but…”

Then all of a sudden, your phone rings.

It was the devil herself. 

Sam.

Retrieving your phone from your purse, you stared at the screen for a few seconds. Not even debating if you should answer, simply frozen that Sam is calling you. She wasn’t the caller type, knowing that she liked to give head's up before anything. So you thought it must’ve been an emergency if she was this insistent.

Worry filled you. Yet, you don't trust yourself to answer right away, knowing you were bound to embarrass yourself or worse; be easily pulled in by Sam's sweet nothings. She was your weak spot, your ability to say no vanishes with ease.

Taking a peek at your notifications, it only shocked you, seeing that Sam was bombarding you the whole evening. They were sweet first, her usual cheery self, until they got cold for some reason. You stifle an uneasy grimace—hating how this was confusing you to no end.

Pocketing the phone back, you had no energy for this tonight. There’s no escaping this situation or this woman, really. Why did you think it was a good idea in the first place? You decide on calling Sam the next day to get things over with. 

“Are you okay? I don’t mind if you’re going to answer that,” Lucy asks with a comforting smile, gesturing at your phone that rang for the second time.

You shake your head, trying to compose yourself. 

The ringing eventually stopped.

“No. Uh, where was I?” You clear your throat. She looks at you expectantly. “Again, Lucy, it’s been nice. But I think for now all I can handle is… friendship.” you answer in a heartbeat and for a moment, your date was crestfallen at your answer. “But you’re right, you know. Cliches can be nice. I never thought I actually needed this.” It was genuine; not a mere attempt of cheering her up. You didn’t realize until now how you needed to unwind in a way that wasn’t discrete nor foreign.

After a few beats of silence, the woman nodded, perhaps she has accepted her fate for tonight. Lucy bounced back to her unaffected and cheery disposition. Before parting ways, she surprisingly left a soft kiss on your cheek, almost at the corner of your lips. 

“I’m content with the fact that I managed to change your mind over one thing.” Lucy quips and shoots you a playful wink.

You were still blushing at the sudden action but you didn't quip at it, giving back her jacket. “Thank you really. For keeping me warm and making this night wonderful.” Lucy says and waves goodbye one last time to you with a toothy smile on her face. 

Standing from the pavement in front of your apartment, your eyes follow your date’s car as it drives farther away from you. Still stunned and occupied with your own thoughts, you pay no mind to the roaring engine in the streets, at this late hour—thinking it was one of the many overbearing and supercilious owners that likes to boast of their possession.

You rolled your eyes internally, and immediately headed to your apartment. Reaching your room, maybe the only thing you've cleaned up was your hands. Nothing had felt good for the past few days—work was demanding. Sam kept blowing up your phone, but she didn't make any move to come and see you and that bothered you still. 

Even if this date was the most normal you've felt tonight, the exhaustion easily took over your body.

The paranoia comes in waves, surprising you every now and then. Because sometimes, you felt as though eyes were on you.

Mind drifting to Sam again, you wonder what could she be up to these days. What could’ve been the reason for her to call you out of nowhere. Has she missed you this much? Your heart flutters at the thought.

Was it a good thing? To avoid Sam this long even with her small attempts of reaching out?

Of course, it wasn’t. You idiot. Taking off your boots with a resigned sigh, you lazily placed them on the floor. The plushie was still on your other hand and you plopped the dolphin stuffed toy next to you in bed. It was easy to get lost as you laid all comfortable on warm sheets and cold pillows—you're off to la-la-land, dozing off completely into a dreamless state. As your body relaxed, you found it odd how all of a sudden it smells like chemical. 

It was strong and vivid for your taste, that even if your brain sends a jolt of panic, you are numbed—unable to move nor wake up. 

Like a terrible nightmare, it seemingly paralyzed you until you blacked out again and you didn’t have any more time to analyze it further. 

::

How many hours has it been? 

You worry that you’ll miss work. Disoriented, you feel yourself starting to wake up with eyes calibrating as they open. It smells different, though it’s more pleasant; earthly and flowery than the blur of chemical induced you've experienced before. Was it a dream? Your heart started racing—this is definitely not your bedroom. The mattress was softer than yours, the layers of sheets felt gentle against your skin. Not to mention you didn't have this amount of pillows underneath your head, like you were some sort of royalty. The bed was too wide for your limbs that were acquainted with the minimal space you were used to. Then it clicks to you; you are definitely in a different place. 

But wait. 

You've been here before.

In your hazy sight, you yanked on your forearm as your wrists felt oddly sore and prickling your nerves, only to find out the restraints that kept you for god knows how many hours. Your breathing pattern started racing—attempting to shake off the handcuffs. It was tight. You were still wearing your flowy dress as you glanced at your body.

"Good morning, mi amor." says the deep voice that rattled you.

Your sight makes out a figure of a person standing in front of you, ominous, yet had an amused look on her face.

How did you get in here? Into Sam's room?

"Sam? What—?" you rasped out weakly. "I don't… what is this?"

Sam had the audacity to smile through her little contraption. You poor sweet thing, she had anticipated many things; first comes the confusion. 

She’s wearing your favorite shirt, worn out and tightly fitted to her body. With how Sam is built, you fear that the fabric will rip if she keeps on moving. It’s the same one you've lost during senior year and luckily for Sam, she found it in her room during one of your sleepovers and upon finding them, she had no intentions of returning it to you. The timing was perfect, she carried this piece of you as her father left her with no choice but to move away from your town then. Sam stood barefoot and her legs were covered with her silk sleepwear.

"Hush, It's okay, you're okay. You’re safe with me, (y/n/n)." Sam cooed as she sauntered your way, the bed dipping as she gently straddled your legs. It’s the same softly spoken tone you heard many times before, but Sam's actions remain to perplex you. "Relax, you’re at home—with me."

Then comes the panic.

You huff out frustratedly, "What home are you talking about? This isn't my– it isn't–! Fuck, I need you to uncuff me!” with gritted teeth, you try to kick your feet and legs in the air in protest. You didn’t like being forced into this. It was simply insane. Because either way, you were hopelessly drawn and possibly in love with Sam—enough to comply with whatever she desired.

Your wrists tug on the restraints again making them clink against the headboard and to no avail, you weren't able to loosen them up. It was a genuine pair of handcuffs. This wasn't a prank. The terror rapidly coursed through your veins, much more now that you can't move your legs as well, being trapped in Sam's weight.

"But you're with me. I've told you before, I missed having you, I even repeatedly begged you to come back home. You belong here with me."

Sam had wanted to do this hours ago—missing to be in your proximity, evading your space fully. But she knew it'll suffocate you and she couldn't risk putting her favorite pretty girl into a worse spiral of panic attack.

"No, no, no... I was with- this wasn't where I went right after Lucy... I- I got home, my house and I remember sleeping on my bed," Surely you aren't mad. You can recall the events step-by-step, hence this current situation you're in has left you confused. "How did I get here?"

"First, no mentioning of other women when I'm with you. Or ever at all." Sam breaks out a growl. When you gasp, she holds your jaw, tilting them up. Her hold onto you shifts, thumb now soothed your cheeks gently, wiping away the tears you were unknowingly shedding out of panic. "I had to do it my way, mi amor. I'm sorry."

And it swiftly shifts to anger. 

A snarl breaks out of you in the midst of panic. 

But oh, Sam could never hurt you.

"What the fuck is your way, Samantha?!"

Sam believed that you only need a little more push—convincing how perfect the two of you are together. After all, she has waited for you for so long and had expected that your reunion was enough to prove that. She has been so good to you. Sam thought; why did you have to look for more? She can give you everything.

"This right here." Sam quipped airily, a teasing look written on her face. "The last time you were in my bed... you were eager to leave. And you did, abruptly and odd, when I first thought of it. Then, you didn't plan on returning at all. That hurt me so much, (y/n/n)." Sam's gaze changed to hurt, head tilted as the intensity of her doe-eyes bore into yours.

Guilt prickled on your side. While you disapprove of Sam's ways, maybe you could have prevented it—this. Confronted her after what you found out. She's a friend first that you cherished before being entangled intimately. After all, communication also goes both ways. 

"So, you basically took me? Handcuffed me, too. This is kidnapping, you know I could—"

"Report me? If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time. These cops are sloppy and way too easy. But still, they do make a good ear and connection for me, I must say."

You gasp at her implication. You should have expected it.

"Unbelievable. You've gone crazy, Samantha."

Sam shifted her weight, locking your hips with her thighs. Your breath hitched at the force, much more when you felt something hard poking at your pelvis.

"I hate it when you call me that. You're pushing it, baby. First you ignored me and your solution was to go and date someone else? I thought I made myself clear that I didn't like sharing you with anyone else, (y/n/n)?"

You blinked rapidly.

"It- It wasn't like that—"

"No? If it weren't for Tara and Martin giving me a heads up, you would've invited that girl to your house, wouldn't you?" Sam uttered with gritted teeth, "She must’ve done it to spite me. The nerve to leave a lipstick stain on your pretty face, tell me, did she kiss you?" Her thumb swiped your bottom lip, as if to erase the remains of what once laid in there, then up to your cheek but much more firmer than this time. 

Sam was already debating ways on how she will dispose of this Lucy you speak of. Her eyebrows now furrowed and the loving eyes were ripped off, anger fixated on the red mark on your soft cheek.

"What? I don't—no, no, Sam. I'm telling you, it was just a simple date. We only ate at this restaurant and—what does your sister and men have to do with this?" you asked, growing confused even more.

If you loathed how defensive you were, Sam however, took immense pride in it. It just meant that you still cared for her feelings. So, there was something indeed. She wasn’t being delusional all this time—like her father distastefully implied.

Sam cowered onto you lower, her dark hair curtained as you were underneath her. 

"Tara's wife owns the restaurant that you visited last night. As for Martin, well, I ordered him to call me in case something happened. Imagine my surprise when they both did."

He was following this whole time. That explained one of your conundrums of feeling eyes on you these days.

"You've been following me around?"

Sam was immovable, unphased by your words. She didn’t confirm nor deny your implication.

"You've got nothing to worry about. Come on, love — it's me." The pad of her fingertips trace on your features feather-like. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. Haven't I made that very clear?" 

You scoffed at her nonchalance. "See, I would have believed you if you didn't take me unwillingly out of my apartment and cuffed me in your bedpost!"

"But I've always wanted to see you tied up like this. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I can recall you getting all flustered when I brought it up before. Wasn't it a confirmation on your end?" Sam had her pearly teeth clamped on her bottom lip. As she dropped the words, your cheeks grew hot. "Call this... me reading between the lines." Sam husked out right on your ear.

"Samantha, you are something else." A strained voice weakly comes out of you. 

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

You rolled your eyes. "'course you will."

Sam hiked up your dress further, exposing your undies. You squirmed at being exposed and she smacked the side of your thigh in return. You yelped as it stung in your skin, throwing your head to the side of the pillow.

"Now, don't put up that attitude with me princesa."

It was embarrassing enough how you're affected with Sam and her way with words. Were you damp in the southern part? She has to stop and not pry further with her advances—or else she'll never live it down.

"I just don't understand how you were so insistent on taking me here," You peer at Sam who had her jaw clenched as she detached her hold to you. "I dunno, we could've talked about this normally. In a space preferably where I’m not restrained like this. Samantha, I mean it. I can't play any more games with you."

Sam raised an eyebrow over your words. A game? She was absolutely displeased with how little you think of her admiration for you. The disbelief was written all over her face. 

She became eerily stoic at your words. You didn’t like being the receiver of her blank expression.

"The last time I did, you were adamant on leaving me. Fully avoiding me right after. You didn’t even pick up my call. And a game? Is that what you think it is? Oh, princesa. You're absolutely driving me up the wall. You're shutting me out, I’m familiar with it.”

You couldn't retort anything back at her words, gulping as you found the truth behind them. Sam was right; you've always wanted to run away from any forms of confrontation. 

You were never good at dealing with them.

Such a poor little thing, Sam thought. This was evidently giving you a whiplash, her attitude and unconventional ways, but she doesn't think she can wait any longer and the unforeseen little date you had last evening just accelerated, no, ruined her plans.

"Was she any good?" Sam lowly questioned with her other hand trailed underneath your dress, running on your upper thighs as she moved back. You shiver at the contact and warmth that spread goosebumps all over your skin.

Sam refused to call this woman by their name, it would make things harder for her. She detests how for a moment, you chose someone else over her.

You helplessly squirmed, making the handcuffs clink repeatedly once again. "She- she was nice—" you truthfully said.

When you wiggled out your legs, Sam overpowered you. She gripped your plush thighs, opened them to have herself placed in between, with your folded legs raised in the air, she took her hips to push them downward to stop you. Her own core met yours and you felt her packing.

"Nngh—!" you heated up, so close from erupting louder. 

And Sam? She hated to see you suppressing them. Especially when you have deprived her of your sweet presence for so long. But she has already learned that loosening up too much wasn't the good approach. She barely knew a lick to romance, not when her upbringing was surrounded by coldness and violence. She thought in realistic terms, the romantic movies that you loved and forced her to see were pathetic. Adorable that you found hope in them, so she gave that formula a shot when she saw you again. 

Only to see that you slipped away from her. It was ineffective, so to say.

Sam decided that she was going to create her own.

"Wrong answer, honey.” she smiled. “You say that yet I can tell you're already wet for me, aren't you?" 

You didn’t like how this turned out as foreplay and what was worse, is how you were enjoying this deep inside. Sam being in tune with your body—she already knew that. You just needed a little more… breaking.

"Fuck off, Sam. Just uncuff me already!"

"Now don't get me started. Say, I'll make a deal with you," Sam combed her fingers through your messy hair. "If you're wet once I inspect you, we'll do things my way. If you aren't– maybe– I will let you go."

Astounded with her proposition, annoyance crept into you. 

"What's so fair about that?"

"The illusion of choice." Sam grinned mischievously. "But you can't possibly be wet aren't you? It's still early in the morning and your words are insisting that you dislike this whole setup." she gestures on your body, huffing at how you're still resisting her.

"You don't own me," you attempted to stand for yourself.

Mirth settled on Sam's features. She tilted her head and an unsettling smile was set on her lips. 

“Haven’t I proved that otherwise from time to time?”

You look away at her crystal clear innuendo. Of course it's Sam. Everything that she did always had you transfixed and mesmerized by her.

"You're just mocking me now. Seriously, maybe if you knew why I pulled away..." you wryly replied. 

"That's the thing, I don't! It frustrates me what I have done wrong," Sam now appeared equally exasperated as you. 

You look at her bewildered. She had the nerve to say all of this, while her eyes were pleading at you. It was jarring to witness her crumble and desperate to seek answers in the softest way she can, while having you handcuffed.

"I heard you! That day, when you cooked for me and wanted me to stay in.” There wasn't going to be another chance if you didn't pour it all right now. With a shaky breath and a lump in your throat, you continue. “I accidentally eavesdropped on your phone call, confirming that you were going to a strip club. I hated that you were fucking around, even when we– whatever we were. I thought it was better to stub it out right after that. Apparently, I’m still not good with keeping things casual.”

Her calloused hands came back to softly soothe your face. You were close to shedding tears as previously.

"But… I've never been with anyone else since we met again." 

"Bullshit." you quickly spat out.

She gave you a stern look. Sam was displeased with how you were denying her. Still, she evens out her breathing, holding back from taking the reins for now.

"I swear on it with a knife on my throat, (y/n/n). I had to go for work reasons. I recently acquired the place so I had to finalize some things. It also helped to muddle our meet-ups in case someone was lurking."

It made you tense up underneath Sam.

"And pray tell, why the hell would someone be lurking at you—better yet, at us?" you curiously asked, worry dripped at your tone.

Sam exhaled, her eyes momentarily shut.

"Because I deal with an under-the-table business, honey." Sam meets your eyes again, holding onto the headboard. "It's the main reason why I had to step up, as I said before. My old man let his temperament slip terribly, fucked up, and I had to take the reigns. That's why I disappeared. I didn't have much choice." She appeared solemn as she admitted the truth you've been longing for. 

Sam leading a mob made so much sense now for you. Always wanting to be discreet, her men tried to blend in—not wanting to stand out, and especially that night where Sam was disoriented and had bruising, injured fists, more times than you can count after your first time seeing them.

The glint of amusement on Sam’s eyes did not go amiss for you as she gently stroked your hair. “Though, I gotta hand it to my old man. I hated how his voice nagged constantly in my head, how he figured out that I had feelings for you then–utilized it to taunt me every time I fucked up.” Sam scrunched her nose. The resentment seeped vividly as she revealed more. “He’ll always say, I can’t see you yet or- or that I don’t deserve you if I can’t defend you—that I’m weak. You were my silver lining, (y/n/n). Still is.” She confessed, stroking your jaw softly as though you were her most prized possession.

Similar to that one night, your affection for Sam overpowered your common sense. You were moved by her words, ached that she had to be tormented at a young age. Feeling bile rising up your throat; you then realize how deep were you enough to be willing to ignore the unconventional and wicked ways of Sam, even if it raised red flags. But it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t posing an immense weight over you.

It was all new information to you. For god’s, she had to kidnap you and cuff you to her bed. You never thought that your sweet Sammy could ever—

"That's... okay- okay. It's a lot to take in," you whispered to Sam who was internally worrying at your response.

Before you can delve more to the sirens threatening to grow louder, Sam scooted her lower body away from gripping you, and now you feel her lips softly yet so eagerly peppering your face with kisses.

"We don't have to talk about it right now, but I just want you, (y/n/n)." 

She pinched your inner thigh, making your mouth open agape from the shock. Sam took it as her chance to meet your mouth with hers, no hesitation now as she was eager to kiss you. Her lips moved and you tentatively returned the gesture, dancing with familiarity that you didn’t know you badly craved for weeks now.

You groan at the overwhelming feeling of Sam and how she moved against you. Wet and eager sounds of kissing vibrated delectably to your body and it made Sam shift to a hunger and lust fueled kiss.

Soon you were gasping for air. Sam reluctantly pulled away as you did, chasing your lips for more. She was more than pleased to see you equally half-lidded and affected with now swollen lips.

“God, I wanna be inside of you already…” Sam husked out as she swept back her hair. “You’ve made me so desperate, you have no idea.” The ragged breathing made you throb. She moved aside to spread your legs apart and you became wetter at what’s about to happen. Sam quickly placed herself between your legs, now folded up. “Do you wanna feel me?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for Sam. 

She grabbed you by your cheeks, “I need an answer, mi amor.”

“Yes!” you breathed out, nodding dumbly.

Sam grinned wolfishly as your need starts to crack upon the surface. She knew that this irresistible feeling goes both ways. Still, she thrived on seeing this each time, being proved right.

“Arch your back for me.”

As you complied, Sam slithered her own body flushed against yours. It gave her enough space to reach behind to unzip your dress, tugged it down, her look barely faltered with a glint in her eyes. 

She saw your matching jade underwear pieces. Seethe began to bubble inside of Sam as it sinks in that you dressed up too nicely for your date last night. It drove her crazy, how your gorgeous tits were threatening to spill out of its confinement; you were such a sight for her. 

Only for her and it should always stay that way.

She cupped them out of your bra, finally revealing your supple breasts. It only took one glance for her desire to take over and now you’re pressed against Sam. She feels your nipples harden on her as she begins to mark you from your neck, to your sternum, and coated them with her spit as she sucked on them needily. Throughout the process, all you could do was spill moans helplessly, eyes closed and arched your body for her—gladly letting Sam do however she wanted.

Now your body was littered with red and purple marks, some parts glistening with her saliva.

“I want to taste you too, fuck, I don’t know which one I’ll do first.” Sam admitted, voice all raucous. Taking a peek of her needy, doe eyes was enough to make you feel lightheaded. “No more dates with other people alright? So god help me, I’ll fucking behead anyone who dares to.”

You nodded, now eager to comply with Sam as your whole body ached for her. Your green light made her weak in the knees—she worships you. Sam swore that she won’t hesitate to kill more for you, if they cross you or come between the two of you.

Sam pulled you in by gripping your legs, lower body completely arched for your core to meet hers as she knelt at the bed in front of you. She thrusted her hips upward and the dull ache of your pussy throbbing intensified tenfold. She continued teasing you and while your arm and wrists were beginning to ache, knowing you can’t do anything, you started to cry, pleading for the woman to do something.

“Please Sam, can you just– shit, it hurts, I need you… please…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sam gently released her hold of you, pulling down her sleepwear and revealed the strap that dangled between her legs. 

You involuntarily widen your legs at the sight. Fuck, you were so ready for her. She smirked at this and tugged your underwear down. Your arousal flowed like crazy, the vivid imagery of your wetness stringing on the fabric of your panties and Sam was intoxicated at it, more so with your heavenly scent.

“Wanna fuck your mouth first, (y/n/n).” 

With no further warning, Sam hovered against you once again, leaving your pussy exposed and being teased with the mere air, feeling yourself drip already at her expensive bed sheets. Strong thighs and muscular lower abdomen peeked through her tight shirt, covering your entire sight. 

Sam tilted her head and you see the mirth on her face. Unexpectedly, she grabbed the middle of the strap’s length and slapped it harshly on your cheek and mouth, barely an ounce of respect. You were a fan of how she loses herself onto you—because of you. 

Body twitching repeatedly, without a doubt, you were craving for more.

“I need my good girl. Come on, open up for me.” Sam orders, probing your mouth open with the tip. Sam’s scent was intoxicating for you, too, with barely space from her core to your face, you almost wanted for her to ride you. Maybe later. “And I need to prep you first.”

Wanting to please her, you met her lust filled gaze and opened your mouth wide, tongue stuck out. She immediately pushed in a few inches, your tongue already swirling around the silicone. It stretched your mouth. With closed eyes you were sucking so eagerly that Sam moaned at each thrust she did, hit the back of your throat that you had to adjust your breathing through your nose–and how you easily complied with no hesitance. You covered it in the slick of your spit until your cheeks hollowed, eager to please even if you were close to gagging. Drool sloppily dripped on corner of your mouth; equally lost as her right now and Sam loved that.

No one and nothing else can compare to this sight.

“Shit, you love me moving like this huh? Being cock drunk, you’re pooling already in my sheets…”

She grunts as she thrusted harder, getting more turned on as the slick wet sounds become aggressively loud in the confines of her bedroom. Sam kept her gaze on you the whole time–loved the sight of your eyes welling up with tears out of pleasure, drooling on the corner of your mouth, and you were releasing throaty moans as she moved on your mouth.

“You missed this, don’t you?” Sam breathily asked, the bed creaked along. “Because I sure did,”

You hummed loud in agreement and this urged Sam to grab the shaft of her strap, with one final thrust, she poked it against your cheek, the head of the cock bulging against it. She groaned at the imagery—ingraining it on her mind. She pulled out with a pop noise and you were already dishevelled.

“Fucking hell, (y/n/n). Not so responsive now are you? Fuck, if my cock was real I would’ve made you swallow my cum already. Spilling them warm on your throat. You would’ve loved that, wouldn’t you?” Sam asked you through her rapid breathing and held you by your cheeks again to fully look at her.

“Yes, yes! I’ll swallow it all. I need you, I always need you, Sam,” you admit with no shame and spread your legs wide once again, your hole soaked and clenching over nothing—all for her.

“Must be your lucky day then. Because this is a cumming strap, mi amor.” 

As your eyes widened, Sam pumped on the shaft, directing it to your mouth that was slightly ajar and you felt liquid oozing on your lips and tongue. She dragged it until spurts were all over your face, torso, and then your lower tummy.

You made sure to put on a show for the woman, seductively licking off the remains of her fake cum, fully immersed as if it was the real thing. Sam groaned and moaned, immediately pulled you for a bruising kiss that made your head spin.

“I know you wanted more but I need you to be patient,” Sam muttered as she pushed your inner thighs outward, positioning herself between you. “Shit, you’re dripping. I was right. Soaking, just like I expected you to be.”

“Yes, yes! But for the love of god, uncuff me, Sam… I want- no- I need to feel all of you,” you begged for her mercy. Sam simply bit your exposed clavicle. As you moaned, the action sent delicious tingles all over her body.

“No, not just yet.”

Sam’s calculations were going well so far, she’s about to have you and then keep you forever. 

There’s no escaping her now.

You whined a bit more as Sam had her grip on the back of your knees, making you fold as she pressed herself beneath you. She held you by the ankle and threw them above her shoulder. Fuck, she’s got you folded. Maybe Sam should’ve let you do some stretching first.

“Need you to take a deep breath for me, pretty girl.” Sam uttered with her voice all gruff, and looking at her, you see the sheer sweat becoming evident on her skin though not as much as yours. “You didn’t like me so much earlier but now, I’m barely in, and your pussy is clenching already?” she mocked you. Her giggling burned your body, you did not expect how enjoyable it was to be ridiculed in this way. “Loosen up for me.”

With a bated breath as you relax your throbbing core, Sam slid her cock further, the head and a few inches entering you with ease than earlier. Sam was keen on looking at your expression and your mouth, in case it was too much for you. She knew it was a new thing for the two of you, she can only imagine that it’ll be a new adjustment compared to her slender fingers.

This was an insane type of stretch for you. The biggest you’ve ever taken.

“See? You’re taking it so well. I’ll make it fit.”

Eventually, it wasn’t enough for Sam as you expected. Drunk with the sight of your pussy swallowing her whole, she picks up her pace and rammed the cock inside of you—full of hunger and determination to see you fall apart; she needs it more than air. 

“Shit! S-Sam, can you just–”

“Shhh. Don’t be so greedy now, where are your manners?”

The curve of the whole shaft inside of you was vivid against your walls, her impatience getting the better of her as the pace was ragged, no longer gradual. It was downright pornographic–you didn’t expect to be this loud and wet. The ache of being deliciously stretched out made your eyes roll back to your head and let out a moan. The sloshing and slapping sounds were too defined for your ears.

“You… you’re going to be the end of me, Sam,” You whisper as you bucked your hips, the squelching of your sopping pussy only motivated Sam to thrust deeper who smiled at your words. 

She waited for you for so long and to finally have you was intoxicating beyond her comprehension. 

“As you are mine,” Sam replied and with a newfound fervor, she began fucking you deep into her mattress, hitting the depths of your soaked pussy. The bed uncontrollably shaking and with her grip on the headboard–you feared that she might actually break it.

“Oh m-mmh! Fuck, oh-Oh my god!” you cried, not even able to ground yourself through holding onto something as you’re still cuffed. 

“Shhh you can take it. Just a little more,”

Your arousal dripped enough to smear itself to Sam’s hips and thighs. She grunts loudly as she fervently pounds the strap on you, "Esto es mia." her accent dripped deliciously and you whimpered, whole back arched, as Sam splayed her hand, pushing the bulge of the strap that appeared on your lower tummy. “You like that baby? Needy little thing, I’m going to fucking breed you until all you can think of is me.” you wish to have your nails dug and scratched over Sam’s muscular back, finding the ideas she kept on seeding onto your dirty mind pleasurable more than ever.

Your stomach twitched like crazy, the tangled coil grew unbearable now for your liking. Both of your muscles burned but it was barely an issue for Sam who was still relentless. 

Just as you were close as Sam hit the right spot, her pounding came into a full halt.

With hazy sight, you try to blink a few times. Sam started to pull out, while you cried, canting your hips to chase more of the strap and she simply took deep breaths. She growled, slapping you harshly by your inner thighs—you yelped unadulteratedly, the sting crossing the line of pain and pleasure. Sam muttered a string of curses in her mother tongue as soon as she saw the strap coated and glistening with your slick.

The tension on your stomach twitched madly in waves. It doesn’t help that your clit was throbbing painfully to reach the needed high. You wail as you turn your head to the side, burrowing to the soft pillows. Your vision turns warped as you grew dizzy, staring at the high ceiling.

The harsh reality sinks in. Like a cold bucket of water spilled onto you, you realize that you’re in Sam’s complete mercy. She makes it known with her giggling that resonated in the spacious room, making you feel humiliated. Though, it oddly adds to the erotic atmosphere. She worked you up–gaping hole still clenching, now onto nothing.

“This is what happens when you do dumb things and deprive me of your pretty self, mi amor.” she smiled and stroked the apple of your cheek, wiping the tears away.

Sam couldn’t wait to fully break you.

::

While previously wallowing in deep yearning and questions, Sam however, took it up a notch. It was terrible; aware of Sam’s tendencies to be rough in bed, nothing had prepared you from yesterday. Her intentions were clearly personal and she took the detachment horrifyingly and dealt with it in unimaginable ways you never thought could happen to you. For gods’s sake, she was following you and not so long ago you were in her bed. Uncertain how you’ll face this mess, there’s one thing that you were sure of: you cannot get enough of Sam. 

Isn’t that terrible?

You woke up gasping for air—your body doesn’t feel like yours. It felt as though you were paralyzed, your motor senses weren’t coordinated as you wanted them to be. It was like being plunged into a body of water for hours, coldness surrounded you and oxygen was scarce, you were completely deprived. Your lungs were clogged up and you didn’t know how to manage the air through your body. Panicking at this, the tears involuntarily well up your eyes, blurring your vision and just in time, someone catches you.

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Warmth covers your body. The soothing voice kept on lulling you to calmness. The grasp was firm on your midsection—continuously rubbing back and forth. It wasn’t like being trapped anymore. “It’s just me, mi amor. It’s Sam—your Sammy. Try to breathe slowly with me, come on baby, you can do it.”

The voice faintly goes through your hearing but it was distinguishable enough. It was still difficult to breathe but being in her proximity, you feel her pattern of breathing. She takes a deep breath and draws out the release just as slow.

“Breathe with me, come on honey,” The voice urges you gently, sweeping the hair away from your face. She anchors you through the turbulent waves. Sam thought; How can you still look so beautiful even at your most vulnerable? If anything, this had made her even more set with her plans—wanting more days of waking up next to you. 

Your breathing was less ragged, albeit still unregulated. 

Sam wanted to see your eyes now, the one that she loves the most, and your subdrop is depriving her of it.

She tries to paint an easy picture for you in hopes of calming you down. “You’re alright. You stayed with me—in my house the whole day. It’s nighttime and nothing bad is going to happen to you. What’s going to happen is that you’ll rest the whole day. I’ll prepare some food, we’ll go for a bubble bath, and reapply a soothing cream to your sore thigh and we can watch some romantic comedies that you like so much—you’d pick the movie, of course.” Sam finishes with a light chuckle.

Finally, the panicking has settled down, her words have lulled you to calm down. You aren't drowning in the vast and deep sea nor restrained like a prisoner. It provided enough details that you didn’t know your mind longed for. 

“Sam,” you drawl out with your hoarse voice. You’re met with the beaming hazel eyes, crinkled at the corners, attentive to your next words. “Fucking warn a girl next time.”

“No promises.” She teases you, nose scrunched and tickling your side lightly.

You fight off a weak smile threatening to spread on your lips. “What do you mean no promises? I don’t think I can walk! Don’t even look smug right now–I mean it.”

The woman in front of you was not guilty at all. Shrugging her shoulder, Sam was seemingly ready to get up.

No!

You shrieked. Panic immediately courses through you, tugging her down harshly to your side once again. Your grasp was in her arm. Why were you so adamant to have her beside you? It was unexplainable but if anything is certain, your body couldn’t handle it if she left you. Not after letting her have her way with you earlier—you refuse to feel disposable, even by the slightest. You wanted more of Sam.

Sam, on the other hand, was shocked at the action but not at the reason. She blamed herself—knowing you were still processing your feelings, how rough she has been—she should have remained gentle, at least for now. Sickeningly, she loved having your attention this way. It felt like a teaser of what was more to come—to eventually have your full devotion; equally as she does to you.

“I’m sorry, honey, I was about to carry you.” Safe with me now. She murmured to no one, soon as you clung to the front of her body, legs wrapped tightly to her waist. Her arms and hands quickly caught you for support. You nuzzled in the crook of her neck, making her shiver delectably more so as you tangle your fingers on her hair—scratching lightly on her scalp. 

Not long after as she started walking, she pressed multiple innocent kisses to the expanse of your neck. Sam sighed. God, everything had to be so addicting about you—even your scent. She gently drops you to the cold marble of her kitchen’s counter and before you could protest, Sam reminds you of the plans she had made for tonight.

You’re surrounded with appliances that you had no idea how to properly pronounce, one that you would’ve only seen in the magazines. She always wanted the best of the best, it seems. Hell, Sam can start a cooking show if she wants to. This part of her house wasn’t too decorated, you noticed, somewhat lifeless. You tuck the observation at the back of your mind, a piece that could be useful later on.

Soon as you settled in, Sam told you that she intends to make an appetizing flatbread and her own concoction of guacamole dip. How she managed to improve her culinary skills in these years remains to surprise you. Younger Sam was already capable of making edible food fixes and some humble meals, but her skills as she made them was evidently different and an upgrade.

Your curious eyes remained at Sam as she moved. Her apron appeared threatening—it read don’t make me poison you! Attached with a kiss mark was ridiculously endearing to you. But also very, very hot. The way Sam tied it around her waist and how it clung to her fit figure. Not to mention, you were rewarded by the sight of Sam’s hair tie momentarily trapped by her teeth then doing a messy half-pony with it. 

She first started with the dough with the trusty rolling pin, her arms flexing and contracting at each force she put into it. The veins were slowly becoming prominent as Sam does her work, the outline of its curves bulging, also making themselves known. Remnants of the powder were a nice touch as she was making a meal for you. 

Don’t even get started with her knife skills. Sam easily chopped through the vegetables, completely hypnotized by the motion, you failed to notice that she was preparing some greens that you personally had a vendetta with. Your eyes were fixated on how she cut through them with much precision and ease. Then, you recall her admission, leading a mob—you can only imagine how swift she must be with her sharps when using them in business situation, the menacing glare and—

What?

Now, you were thoroughly confused.

You gulped and squirmed on your seat. The ache in between your legs made you remember how she deprived you of orgasm previously which was a first. She even promised to breed you. But you didn’t know whether it was an act of mercy, knowing if she pushed you more, you would have spiraled much worse the following hours when you woke up or was it an act to build an excitement through you. 

No wonder, similar to the physical hunger, you found everything in front just as equally gratifying. Even the thought of her malevolent ways, which you initially had conflicting thoughts about. You were still aching and sore, it didn’t help that Sam was quite the eye-candy as she maneuvered in her own space. Shit.

“I know you still don’t like these. I remember you shoving them sneakily on my plate whenever we ate dinner at your house back then.” Sam snapped you out of your…derailing thoughts. Oh, you wanted to be railed, alright. She dusts off her hands on her aprons after washing them. “But you have to eat up your greens, missy. Don’t make me force you.” she quips in a jest, eyes scrunched at you.

“I don’t have much choice, do I.” You deadpan and roll your eyes as Sam hummed, agreeing. “How come you don’t have a personal chef?” 

Might as well shift your thoughts to something else. Admittedly, you also wanted to know more about Sam. After the continuous bombs she had dropped to you as she fucked you to oblivion. 

“Ouch, baby. You haven’t even tasted what I’m cooking and you’re already doubting me?”

You laughed. “No. But I heard it’s what rich folks have. And you must be busy.”

“Not for you, never too busy.” She replied, quickly like it didn’t need much forethought. She shot you a charming smile and proceeded to chop away. Did your heart do the somersaults? Hell yes. You were always puddy when it comes to this woman. “Sometimes I do… but I prefer doing it personally for you. Especially today. But on another occasion, maybe you’ll see my personal chef.”

“Do I sense an early invitation for an indoor date?” you tease her.

Sam nodded her head adorably. “Well, yes, (y/n/n). I thought that was clear already. More things to come.” 

Well, that joke of yours bit you quickly in the ass.

You coughed and turned around to your side to hide how affected you were. This version of your Sammy would need more time to be processed into your consciousness. Few weeks apart and you’re still clammy and hopeless at her forward nature.

“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet. For all I know, this feels like another booty call for me.”

“A booty call?”

Okay, maybe that was a bad idea. Sam halted her motions, you flinched in your seat as she spun the knife effortlessly in her fingers, then gripped the knife and pierced it in the chopping board—the sound resonating in the kitchen.

“You are my girlfriend and it better stay that way.” A lilt of aggression and possessiveness dripped in her honeyed voice. She couldn’t stand you doubting more of her actions. Or worse, you mentioning any traces of your past experiences of hooking up with other people. “Like I said, I despise having to share you amongst all things. I thought I made it clear; no talking of other people–more so when you were entangled with them at one point–around me. I absolutely cannot stand it.”

Her jaw grinded as it bothered her. Sam didn’t know whether she should throw up or plan to hunt them all down and slice them all up, gut them up like a fucking fish, as she pays them a little visit. Starting with this Lucy woman you just went on a date with.

Shiver ran through your spine at her tone, coupled with Sam’s harsh parting of your still sore legs, settling between them as yours dangled on the marble counter. You turn into jelly oddly both at Sam’s admission of wanting you—claiming you—and her hand that greedily ran on your ribs, dangerously under your breast, and the other brought up your inner wrist, and pressed a kiss softly.

“I wasn’t– I just wanted to clear this out. It confused me for a while, what we were. I just needed it spelled out. For the sake of my inner peace.” You stammer out and Sam’s features slowly relax to your admission.

“Well, you are mine, mi amor. I’m reiterating that for a million times more until it sinks in to you.”

She professed, tilted her head and leaned to you with no hesitation, and as you met her halfway, one of her hands rested to the side of your head, pulling you for a chaste kiss. You burned for Sam, chased her touch, and the butterflies on your stomach were still there. Not even the little cheek kiss from your date last night could compare by the slightest.

Soon as Sam pulled away, your stomach growled, reminding you of actual hunger. She chuckled upon hearing and quickly resumed her work. 

“I didn’t know you were this…” You stop to find the right words. Sam tilted her head to the side again, always attentive to you. “Passionate.” Possessive, almost. Maybe you would have said that but you didn’t want to break such an intimate air between you. Not when Sam is officially your girlfriend.

Sam however, found it amusing. She’s surprised you barely caught up with her nature. Even in your younger years, she assumes that you only took it as protectiveness. Casualties were barely encountered then because you were attached to the hip, by default nobody wanted to mess with you as everyone was aware of Sam’s intimidating self. She was all talk and bite.

"You can say possessive and I won't be mad. I don't want you holding back to me."

“Okay. I was about to say that. Were you ever like this with other girls?” you timidly ask out of curiosity.

She shook her head. “No, just you.”

Sam clearly remembers this girl from her lacrosse team who wanted to ask you out for homecoming. Unlucky for her, Sam had heard her previously in the locker room, talking about you as they perceived you both in sweet and disgusting ways. 

She mentally agreed with how they recited your beauty out loud. You are definitely a piece of art to Sam. She unashamedly admired you out in the open, but it appeared that you were oblivious to it. But then, they also talked about how you were possibly freaky—your innocent and quiet nature was a mere ploy in their eyes and they would like to tap your ass and ramble more of your curves.

It may or may have not intendedly caused Sam to perfectly stage an accidental scene to break the girl's ankle during one of the practices then sneered for her teammate to 'watch out next time' and 'not even think about you' in the slightest.

“Guess I was indeed full of surprises, hm?” She simply replied, getting a glass and a bottle of your favorite flavor of fruit juice for you.

How did Sam even know that this was your go-to comfort drink?

With wide eyes, you accept it gratefully. 

“Yes, you are.”

Not long after, Sam had finally finished up preparing food for you two. The serving was definitely quite generous. She didn’t hesitate overfilling it with the toppings and sauce. She brought up a piece of her creation in your mouth, which you easily took a bite of. The food and its flavors melted in your tastebuds. You couldn’t help but moan in pure delight.

Sam laughed. “That good?” 

“Shut up.”

“You’re stroking my ego, baby.” She places her palm flat on her chest, seemingly flattered. “Don’t talk with your mouth full—you know this.”

And you? You almost spluttered out the food you were chewing. Sam and her devilish antics will be the end of you.

::

It wasn’t you to be contained in one place. You were always moving, whether there was a force or not. Yet, for the last few days, you manage to be unmovable. Miraculously taking your sweet time with Sam. Time seems to fade when it comes to her. More than anything, you were in disbelief you get to call your long time crush as yours.

The small haven the two of you built for the last few days came to an inevitable end with Sam having to attend to her business matters. 

You were displeased, the bubbling separation anxiety somewhat coming to the surface already. Just before Sam left, she pulled you into a deep make out session, and both of you were getting handsy. Gleaming at the thought of finally getting a sense of release, to your surprise, Sam managed to break away and compose herself—smoothening the material of her dress shirt and fixing up her tie.

To pile more to your frustration, you saw the emerald upholstered chair that Sam shamelessly paid and took when she fucked you senselessly at that lingerie boutique. As expected of the woman, she had it in her placed in the resting area of her house.

Before deciding to explore more of the nooks and crannies of Sam’s home; you eventually noticed the red lights at some corners placed in the bedroom and a brilliant idea popped out in your mind.

You retrieve your phone and dial Sam to confirm and quell your thoughts. 

“Miss me already?”

“Terribly so.” you fiddle with the strings of Sam’s hoodie–the owner giggling to your direct confession. “I just noticed, but are these cameras in your bedroom?” your eyes flit to one to your right. 

Sam cleared her throat. “Before you detest the idea; baby, it’s all for safety. If it makes it all better, I’m the only one with access to the bedroom cameras.”

You almost snorted because of course, she would. 

Audibly, you sighed out of relief with a hand clutched to your chest. “Thank god. ‘cause I was about to touch myself.” 

You’ve dropped the words so casually that Sam for the first time, was out of words. Faintly, you picked up something on the other end, a sound like a clear fall–unbeknownst to you, you have successfully made her flustered beyond her comprehension.

“Sam? Don’t tell me you hung up on me,” you rolled your eyes.

The woman took a deep breath. “No. Still here.”

“Good…” 

Your eyes remained on the camera, giving the best of your pleading eyes–hoping it’ll somehow be visible enough through Sam’s static screen. Hand slithering on your ribs then your covered mounds, making you groan out loud and eventually your fingertips hovered around your pelvis–a flimsy underwear that you Sam chose for you to wear earlier. It was practically see-through. Your body felt feverish, eyes fluttered shut. 

It would be so easy to dip your fingers inside…

You hear Sam growl. “Don’t touch yourself. Not without me there. I swear to god, (y/n/n) I’m not playing with you…”

A whine escaped your lips at her order, actions coming into a full stop. It was no use to sneak off, aware now there’s cameras in her house and Sam was bound to figure it out no matter what. 

It took Sam half an hour to reach you. You’re met with a determined woman, loosening the tie on her neck and unbuttoning her dress shirt halfway as soon as she barged into her bedroom door—while you gasped, looking still the same as Sam last checked on her monitors.

She manhandled your body, as though you weighed nothing. It spurred your libido higher than ever, mouths crashing and Sam devouring you until your lips bleed and bruised. The only thing that came out of your mouth was her name and more moans that echoed beautifully in her room. Bodies flushed together, you grinded in perfect sync, breasts brushing that made you putty. The familiar gliding of her hands soon met your soaked center. Sam slid her long and slender fingers, entering you but not fully. She started to rub circles slowly until you were worked up enough, playing with pressure, she pumped them deep into your throbbing pussy. Sam grunted at the squelching sounds, obsessed with the warmth of your core. You easily took her in, greedily swallowing all of what she can offer to you.

The twitching of your stomach was absurd and seemingly nonstop. Yet again, Sam noticed, and she took out her coated fingers out of your sopping apex. 

“No, not yet princesa.” She devilishly giggled, breathless as you were on top of her lap. You simply cried and squirmed, as the lack of release was making you crazy.  “Give me a good reason,”

Your hips bucked but Sam was moving away. You didn’t like it at all. Surely, you were going to combust if you were deprived of this heaven for much longer.

“Please, I can be good! Sammy… I’d do better!”

How can Sam deny you now? She giggled at your state. Sam had to admit, edging you was a form of sick atonement that she wanted to pull out of you. Forged as a punishment for leaving her dry while she was understanding and patient. Her devotion was clear as a day and you’ve failed to notice that. Yet, it was also a ploy to have you in her orbit, even by sexual means. With a sardonic smile, Sam absolutely had fun with it.

“Now you’re talking. Just like how I want you, (y/n/n).”

With newfound fervor, she resumes her motions to your pulsating and insanely wet pussy. You clenched repeatedly around her digits. It released a throaty moan out of Sam, low and breathy, spurring you to arch your head back. 

“Tell me how much you need me.”

“N-need you… only—s-shit—just you, Sam! Nngh!”

Pride deeply surged on her chest. If it were possible, her love for you only heightened.

“Oh, I love you.” She confessed against your skin. “Cum for me, (y/n/n).”

The endearing look that Sam had in her hazel eyes had made you even more lightheaded as you took a peek at her. She loves you? You couldn’t believe it. Just in time, your body shook in pleasure as finally you were able to cum. With weeks worth of teasing, it definitely scratched an itch but somewhat it wasn’t enough, yet you couldn’t raise your voice for more as it exhausted you. Maybe you should start working on your stamina, you thought. But then again, Sam was insatiable with her teasing and foreplay. She had been sinfully eyeing you and grabbing you so casually without any promise of making you cum.

Your profession of love to Sam came out in a mumble. Of course, it was no-brainer that you reciprocate her love, too. She simply laughed at your state, body slumped and nuzzled on her neck, a gentle kiss pressed out of appreciation for her. Sam held you tighter, combing through your hair that had grown sticky due to sweat, all softly and breathing in your scent. She smiles upon realizing that you used her own shower items instead of yours, one that she provided, knowing which products you used religiously.

As this was happening, Sam bestowed your little date with a gift. A bloody pig head awaits the woman, the item placed not out of her doorstep but rather from the inside. The scene was gory for her or any sane person’s liking. The trail of redness was spread through her floor and has oxidized. It left a stench of rot, that flies were starting to appear in your date’s home. Sam is anything but rude, so her present came along with a note—one that relayed a clear message of threat for the woman to stay away from you and it would be better if she moved away.

Sam would have made her death swift, dealt with it clean this time as she has no longer a message to relay for you, a contradicting safety and fear which she can both offer—all in order to have you. 

Your stunt of touching yourself today effectively reduced Lucy’s sentence. She cut her plans short and had given this woman a second chance and made a simple scare instead of personally gutting her up with ease. Although if she pulled any attempts of challenging her again, Sam would no longer be merciful to her.

::

Another day of Sam giving you a bouquet of flowers. To her surprise, today was different. Soon as you placed them carefully on a vase filled with water, quickly you retrieved your own gift for her. She always gave you something and you wanted her to know how you always thought of her, too.

You handed Sam a dark blue colored mug that was rough around the edges, a proof of your inexperienced clay making. Designed with stars and the waxing crescent as the main subject, the outline is painted in gold. 

“What’s the occasion?” She asked, still in awe.

“Should there be any? It reminded me of you,” You smoothly replied. Her eyes twinkled and it was easy to say that it was a success.

Sam was over the moon. You remembered. Honestly, it was hard not to, because her pillow sheets were still related to the cosmic – only portrayed with much elegant material. Then her ramblings and how Sam would take you out to simply admire the moon at night. As she held your present carefully, you thought now of how it was a fitting symbol for her, with her tendencies of being a night owl and broody. She chuckled at your perception of her. 

“Oh and I’m broody?”

You add, "It makes you hot and mysterious though, don't worry."

“We should watch the night sky sometime again. I missed doing that with you.”

With Sam’s eyes crinkled in delight and her million dollar smile directed at you, caught you in her grasp with your feet in the air—her hold flooding you with warmth and adoration—it wasn’t much work for you to smoothen and forgive her of the previous disagreements you’ve had with the woman. 

She was simply your Sammy, far from the frightening glimpse you’ve seen of her as someone determined and powerful of a mob leader.

::

Somehow, you managed to get back unscathed when you returned to work. With absence equivalent to a honeymoon trip, you didn’t know what excuse the universe had provided over you. You explained a made up family-related emergency problem, even though you haven’t seen them in years, and it worked like a charm on your end. You weren’t fired even with the sudden absence, no resentment in your bosses’ tone, and your coworkers simply wondered and then welcomed you back.

What you did not know was that your absurd omnipotent of a girlfriend conjured something, effective enough not to pull much attention in tying her name with yours. Sam already invested in your company. It was clear for her that you wanted your own thing, getting out of work so quickly. She respected this wish of yours. A negative push from her would have made you shut like a clam and she didn’t want that—not when Sam was making progress already.

Were your spirits lifted? Without a doubt. Luck didn’t strike you this much, so you gladly took it in.

Initially, you planned to go back to your apartment after work then call your girlfriend. You can’t deny that you missed your own space, wondering if it was dust littered already, given your absence for how many days.

Although, a car was already waiting for you outside. 

“After you.” Martin greets you, opening the car in the backseat. You offer him a polite smile. To your surprise, Sam was seated there too. Immediately, you tackle the woman for a tight hug. Sam returns it with a loving smile and you didn’t want to let go of her addicting embrace.

She looked stunning with her navy turtleneck and usual trousers, along with her polished leather shoes. Sam’s attire always complemented her tanned skin that you love so much–especially with the gold accessories that adorned her look. If anything, getting a sight of her energized you and made your mouth water.

She laced your hands together. “How was work?”

“Good as it can get.” You sighed contentedly, head already leaning to Sam’s broad shoulder. “I don’t know what magic you pulled, but I wasn’t berated at all? And this guy from the other cubicle was the only thing that annoyed me by far.”

“What’d he do to you?” Even without looking, you can already see Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You giggle as it wasn’t a serious matter. “Relax. I just couldn’t tune out his singing and humming today. It got on my nerves… he didn’t exactly have the voice of an angel.”

“Oh I’m sorry you had to put up with that?” Sam meekly says in hopes of comforting you and her thumb rubbing on the back of your hand.

“You know I should be the one asking you–how was your day?” you retort. You always wondered how it worked; Sam being a mob boss. She must’ve always been caught in some form of distress.

Sam bit her lip. She looked at the rear view mirror before answering you. There was nothing much to hide at this point.

“Good. Somewhat smooth, no one annoyed me with a shitty singing voice.” She replied in a deadpan which made you laugh. “No one had to face my knife nor my fists, surprisingly.” 

“That for real?” your eyes went wide.

“You asked,” she mumbled. Sam held your hand tighter as though you were going to disappear in thin air. “It’s nothing like a war, (y/n/n). I know your head is getting all creative–but the machine gun out in the open? Not real. Not an efficient way to stay low, either. Sometimes it’s about looking at paperwork and more on discussions. But lately it’s more of in between securing deals, cordially as we can. Then like I said, sometimes… it takes force and grit—in case things go south.”

A pout spreads on your lips. It pulled out a hearty chuckle from Sam. As she suspected, you indeed had a comical imagery of her work. 

What she didn’t know was how you grew into liking the vision of her being stern and domineering. You even thought of her office, how her seat must’ve looked like a throne to sit in. Completely lacking in warmth, assertive, cold and calculated as she gave orders around.

You blurt out, “That’s hot.”

“Hot?” Sam looked at you in disbelief and some flattery. “I didn’t expect that from you, (y/n/n).” an amused smile graced her features.

You simply shrugged and soon yawned.

“When was the last time you had time to rest? You deserve this, mi amor, and so much more. It wouldn’t hurt if you let go once in a while.”

It got you thinking. Sam is right. You weren't used to having this privilege; by means of simply resting and existing in a peaceful space. Always trying to get by, going through the tedious nine-to-five routine. You’re forgetting something but you have already succumbed to the idea that crashing onto your girlfriend’s place (once again) was a given, due to your sleepy state. 

“Before you fall asleep on me, I got you this,” Sam shuffled on her seat as soon as you leaned against the car’s headrest, mindlessly fiddling with the sun pendant placed below your jugular notch. Sam got it for you a while back.

She reached at the back of the car and pulled a gorgeous bouquet arrangement. It was becoming a common occurrence every week, since you managed to make a deal with the woman. You had issues with being spoiled too much and Sam petulantly met you halfway, understood it, even if she acted like a kicked puppy. This was her alternative of spoiling you of love—amongst other things. Sam balanced her unconventional approach of romance through this, willing to give this traditional courting-like gesture another shot, not wanting to be too rough with you as it wasn’t an image she wanted to be fully attached to. 

Another huge motivator for her was the discovery of your admittance when she came up with this unannounced, saying that the first and last time you received them was in high school and it was because of her. Sam can recall the time, unknowingly having missed the sight of you being tongue-tied and absolutely flustered. She loves how you glowed at this little gesture.

And now, Sam is eyeing you between like a meal to devour and the trace of gentleness is found on her hazel eyes, as always. Her fingers cradled under your jaw.

You can get used to this.

:: 

"But I'll miss you. didn't we plan movie night today?" A rare sight of Sam, pouting and tugging you close, was beyond endearing.

You almost felt bad. Pressing your lips against your girlfriend, you then lead her onto a chaste kiss. "I'm skipping just for tonight please? And it's not like I won't miss you too, either. because I certainly will."

"So smooth with your words."

"I've learned from the best."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. She didn't know whether she'd be pleased at this situation or not. Her issue lies from your current outfit, she thought it was too short. It didn’t help you were a walking vixen and dangerously unaware of it. The idea of you prancing around with filthy leering eyes following you all night? It made her blood boil.

That was already a job taken by her and hers alone.

Her grip loosened around your waist, turned into soft caressing. She beams at you, knowing it was your favorite sight and part of her.

"Mmm. Maybe it was bad that you were taking notes. Too much of it I'd say."

Your phone pings again, your friends were already telling you that they're on their way. A part of you detests to be away from Sam – but you think that your memory has gone oddly hazy and you cannot remember the last time you met up with your friends. You get out of your shared room but not without Sam hovering and sending you off with a kiss and personally driving you there.

Meanwhile Sam was somewhat pleased. Sure, she wanted all of your time, but she had to admit how she reveled in the way you have easily forgotten of her obsessive and conniving ways. Your girlfriend wouldn't let you out of her sight, of course. Constantly worried about your safety and a step ahead, decided to plant two men with a set of skills present on the scene; a safety net in case your fun night out changes its course, her gift of necklace served as an audio receiver and the expensive watch had a tracker.

What you hoped to be a good time, ended up on a terrible note. You disagree with your friends as you open up a few more details to them. It was all because of your curfew and they perceived your relationship with Sam as too intense. That was a given, right? It’s a love thing, you suppose. You fiddle with the necklace she gave you, pondering over how as though they didn't see Sam in the same light as you did. She wasn't borderline abusive. In fact, she had been greater than ever to you, more carefree, unrestrained and unfiltered. You feel it too, she was more relaxed and eager to disclose any information you wanted from her.

Now on your fifth drink? Or sixth? You scoffed and giggled. You were bummed because it took Sam a lot of convincing that you were going to be safe. That you had your own pepper spray with you and that nothing can happen with your friends beside you. It was good, refreshing even. Until it wasn’t.

“I’m just saying, you have to watch out for yourself. And we’re here. Anytime.”

“Are you sure you can trust her after that? She seems… pushy. Won’t take a no for an answer.”

“Seems too fast, (y/n). It won’t be bad if you raised your opinions every now and then, you know.”

It echoed once again to you. Sam was the best for you. Everything between you was consensual. You understood her ways, simply because it was how she was made. You can only imagine how several years of being moulded into a domineering leader with a strong gut have drastically shaped her, refusing to think of it further how you weren’t there for her. 

You downed another shot and as you drank away your disappointment of your friends’ criticism of your girlfriend, a greasy man was already eyeing you.

Then you realize Sam's words from one of the nights you spent with her. She was right; these people in your circle wouldn't get it. Not as much as the two of you do.

Upon your realization, a man not so discreetly manoeuvres his way through you. You deny him but he was insistent. It was gross how he was a mouth breather, his stench hovering over you. 

“The more the merrier, baby.” He didn't even believe that you had a girlfriend, in fact, he even grinned disgustingly at this information.

“You have one second before I call the fucking cops.”

“That’s a lame excuse–” He whined, looking away in disbelief thinking you were bluffing. “C’mon, I can make you straight… all it takes is a night with me,”

You took that chance to stealthily use your phone and clicked on speed-dial. You were surprised it connected to Sam instead of the cops. You don’t remember changing it although it was a better alternative, truthfully. With the initial shock, it override the rising suspicion from you; how your girlfriend set it herself.

Some men came over to assess what was happening. The greasy man rambled too much, far from convincing with how visibly uncomfortable you were. Thankfully, they came into your rescue. You hoped they were good guys. So far it seemed promising that they pushed the guy who was making you uncomfortable. They had a strong build and now were exchanging in a verbal disagreement. It was getting heavy that you had to step away and as soon as you bumped from someone at your back; it was your girlfriend, doe eyes swarmed comfort to your body. 

“Get in the car, mi amor. It’s parked at the front. Lock the doors and wait for me there, hm?” She caressed your cheeks. You were clearly shaken up, still Sam was proud of how you nodded and tried your best to look at her. “I’ll handle this.”

Her thumb caressing gently on your hips, you look at her once again, to see not even the situation and what it holds for the man—but to see if she was truly alright. Sam reassures you again that it’ll be alright and focuses again on the man that had been bothering you.

Where the hell were your friends? Sam groaned lowly in frustration. It was good how she decided it was a good idea to wait out for you. Who knows what could have happened. She takes a glance at the man who added rain on your terrible drinking night-out. She lured him out. He was ecstatic, the idiot not even knowing his fate for tonight. Him trying to take advantage of you sealed it for himself. 

Sam already figured that this would be easy, his throws starting on a terrible form, giving away how he didn’t have a proper knowledge of its basics. He might’ve been taller, but his lack of skill proved him to be useless. Sam immediately went for an opening, fist met his face then swoop his feet quite literally which hit his knees badly to the pebbled ground. He groaned out of pain, curses flowing out of his mouth.

“Please! I’ll do anything! Spare me, I haven’t- I didn’t even touch her!” He begged on his now decapacitated knees.

Sam quipped, “Should I be happy about that?”

“N-no, but–”

“You harassed her. Insisted on wanting to fuck her.”

Over a dim corner outside, Sam sighed and took out the silencer concealed in the back of her jeans, and personally shot him right in the head. She liked seeing her power over these people. Always begging for a way out, so desperate.

Her men didn’t even flinch, trained and desensitized. In another vehicle parked near to the scene, a few more men came out of it, dressed for clean up and quickly carried him out for disposal.

She didn't want things to be messy. But she had been listening to your entire conversation; unbeknownst to you that the necklace also served as a down low spy-like device for her. Sam was happy that you were quick to jump in her defense–how you trusted her. Frankly, she was afraid that her attitude and sense of ethics would be something you’d be disgusted with. Being proven otherwise, it warmed her heart, increasing her devotion tenfold if it were even possible at this point. 

It was easy to lure you out of your circle of friends grasp. She thought of some point how useless your friends would be, now that you have her. Sam knows they’ll only add as a burden and mess.

As she drove the two of you back home, her free hand constantly rubbed random patterns on your exposed thigh. The streetlights were just as warm as your girlfriend’s touch. Her constant glances at you each time you were in red light. The reassuring smile that barely left her plump lips. 

When you waited for her – you didn’t even care what could the man from the club could face. Was it terrible that you reveled in the high possibility of him being a dead meat?

One thing for sure is that you only had one good takeaway this evening.

With your parents out of the picture a long time ago, disapproving of your ‘lifestyle’, and siblings being far and preoccupied with their own lives — this was it for you: Sam is your family. Each time an emergency or a milestone happens to your life, only Sam is there for you, without fail.

You only needed her and she was more than enough.

::

"Tara wants to see you." Properly and not from afar as Sam instructed, the voice echoed in her mind. "Not today, because I want you all to myself right now. Some other time, maybe."

Your eyes crinkled. "When have you not? But yeah - I'm totally in. She was practically a baby when I last saw her." Both of you giggled at your remark.

You discovered another room in Sam’s house. Barely gone through all of them, you found out just now how she had a gaming area. Littered in between retro and modern game machines, and how it glowed differently from arcades, made it appear much inviting. Now in low lighting in the afternoon, you ended up playing pool with your girlfriend. It was a game you always sucked at; with your shitty aim and handling. Bad news for you, it’s Sam’s favorite and opposed to you, of course she was great at it.

Terribly cocky too.

Not that you minded, because she was attractive for how she flaunted it. She’s carefree with you, seemingly retracting to her playful self that gave her a youthful joy of a glow. With her dressed up in tight cycling shorts that were covered with a sweater around her midthighs; Sam looked appetizing.

Back to the game, your motor movements suffered. Each time you aim and thrust the pool stick, the ball bounced off like a fish - far from the pocket points. Missing the target was also a common mistake for you.

She laughed. “No, baby, you’re holding it wrong too.”

“How is it any different from yours?” You retort.

“It can be your posture as well and the pressure you apply when hitting. Don’t be mad now.”

Huffing, you were so close to breaking this pool stick. “Maybe if you showed me!” 

Sam chuckled. She liked your adorable scrunch getting all focused to at least score a point. she gets from your behind, bodies now flushed. Her soft chuckling continues as she notices how you stiffened at the contact. It blows her mind, how years ago things were in reverse; it was her who always panicked at your comforting touch. she welcomed it, relishing each second, replaying the memory of times she missed you before meeting again. She beat herself up mentally at how different she should have approached it.

Sam shook her head, focusing on the present. she has you now and it's all that matters.

“You just have to…” She took your forearms in a grasp and smoothly ran them to your hands. “Hold it like that. Your other fingers for balance however, depend on your level of comfort. It’s a matter of practice–which is what we’re doing.”

“Is that so?” You tease her, turning your head enough to meet her face, hooded eyes greeting you. You feel Sam growing breathless much as you do.

Her hazel eyes had a specific glint to them. They beautifully shone and no doubt had a swirl of lust growing bigger onto them. You purse your lips to hide the spreading smile. Instead, you retaliate by leaning over the table exaggeratingly; practically bending over it. Sam could no longer hold back a small moan escaping her mouth.

It was a matter of a different game and Sam decides she’ll humor you.

However, it was proving to be a difficult task. You just had to rub your ass against her hips. Now practically enveloped by her, weight almost all into you. You wiggle a bit more. Then you felt something else. Fuck. Was she…packing?

She had a cocky smile now. It’s been a while since she has used this on you.

 “Mmm, mi amor. And your aim? Don’t push it up like this,” She grabbed your hand to reenact it. The ball thumped as it bounced – showing how you usually hit. More of her weight was on you, her front deliciously pressed on your back. “I noticed you tend to do that.”

“Oh, do I?”

You were playing dumb now. Although, with skins inevitably brushing, it doesn't take long for the two of you to crumble and give in to do something with the tension.

“Fuck this.” Sam muttered, fingers digging on your thighs as she immediately hoisted you up to the pool table. Back of your thigh’s skin rubbed to the rough texture of its surface, somewhat adding to your gnawing hunger.

Sam was bouncing with excitement to take you in here. Mouths crashing in dire need of each other, she explored your mouth as though she hasn’t before, tugging your bottom lip until you tasted iron.

“Oh, oh… god,” you whimper.

Sam gawks at you with darkened eyes. “You think you can tease me like that?”

Your jaw slacked as Sam's teeth sunk in the skin of your neck, far from finished and continued by nibbling with pent up fervor, and the pleasure of her ministrations as the moans rolled off your tongue with ease. Her open mouthed kisses were messy against your skin but nevertheless, you welcomed her through arching your neck to give her more space to paint you red and purple.

Some of the balls clanked as you guys moved desperately, grinding on each other.

“Look at you.” She giggled and had your cheeks on a firm grip. “My pretty girl so eager to get fucked dumbly. Did you feel my cock earlier at your little tease of a show?”

You helplessly looked at her with half-lidded eyes, nodding.

“Yes, please…Sam,”

“Please what?” She mocked you, doe eyes filled with mirth. Her hands slowly moved from your cheek to your neck. Sam gives it a squeeze, making you hum in delight. “I won’t continue if you don’t use your words properly.”

“I…I want you to breed me, like you said months ago,” you murmured and looked away.

Blood rushed in your clit. You were throbbing in need and full of embarrassment. But it was the truth that you wanted to be fulfilled. You didn’t know it caught Sam in a surprise, her joy and libido had gone through the roof.

Sam relishes onto this, a wolfish smile on her features as she takes every inch of your skin with her lips and hands. And you? you can barely keep up, clung onto your girlfriend’s neck to gravitate yourself in the spiraling haze in your head, pretty sounds continuously tumbling off your mouth.

What you want, is what you’ll get.

You managed to take off your top, now almost completely bare in front of your girlfriend.

“Good girl. So, so good. I knew you had it in you, mi amor.” You’re met with Sam’s patronizing smile. You gulp in excitement at the praise she’d given you. “You remember your safe word right?” She asked as her hands wandered, pulling your own shorts down and underwear. As you nodded, a predatory look was fixed on her face. “I’m going to make you forget it, I promise.”

Her irises were ignited with a newfound desire, turned you on your back and bent over as previously, against the pool table.

Sam stroked her strap and adjusted your legs. She wanted you wide and ready. Your slick was smeared on your innermost thighs and some of them formed with strings of your arousal, greeting her as she spread you out. God, she can’t wait to ruin you.

Without warning, the skin of your pulsating hole was being dragged out by the strap's length and all you can do is whimper loudly in complaint. The head teased you a little with her pace agonizingly slow. As she pulled out though it didn't last as she decided to ram the entire length back inside of you, absolutely filling you to the brim. You moaned as it burned inside of you. Sam reach on your tits for balance as she started thrusting, picking up a pace. With all things going on at once, your eyes rolled at the back of your head and face pressed against the rough surface.

"Wait... oh my god, fuck, wait!" You trembled underneath her, your palms outward against her the table, weakly attempting to push away determined Sam. "So- so big, Sammy, I don't... oh! d-don't think, I can't!" You deeply underestimated her cock. But reeling onto it was simply addicting that you felt conflicted.

“You can and you will. You wanted this, didn’t you (y/n/n)?” She mocks you again. Sam was right, you wanted this. “Whoring yourself to me, this is the least you can do. Fucking. Take. It.” Your girlfriend punctuated each of her words with a hard thrust, each time you swore that it went deeper into your walls.

Sam was spurred on with your erotic reactions. She wanted to see your limit, see you truly fall apart. For god’s sake, you were already dripping wet, gushing and smeared all over Sam’s cock and hips. Once she found a rhythm pleasing to you both, she moaned along you as the base also met her clit – sending shocks on her end as well. 

You were so fucked out right now and an orgasm was ripped out of you so suddenly. “Nngh… oh!”

Breath heaving, you felt the wetness run down your legs. Sam slowed her movements and stayed deep inside of your walls. More liquid gushed out of you, mixed with your girlfriend’s fake cum. It felt heavy and so full inside of you that you can’t get enough. It was beyond gratifying and out of body experience.

“Another one, come on. I have to fill you up to the brim,” Sam whispered against your ear, white-hot that it sent shivers down your spine. Your hips surely will bruise after this, as she resumed pounding relentlessly against the fine wood. It also made you embarrassingly more wet, too. Her pounding didn’t falter at all, Sam’s own hips still at work.

“Fuck– I….Ah!” Your eyes were squeezed shut.

Sam took pride in your current state. She gripped you tighter on your lower back and the other firm on the edge of the table. Sheer sweat already covered the two of you and the pool table continued to shake, now no longer in a prim and proper placement; instead it was crooked due to the movements that were forced upon it. You were fucking like animals.

A vast incoherent mumblings came in a slew to you. Your head pressed against the table and tears came out of the corner of your eyes. Your ears weakly register the mean giggling of Sam. The erotic sound of the skin-to-skin slapping continued to fill the space of your room, synchronizing with the creaking sound of the table. With your mouth agape, you felt the shaft being thrusted in a different angle, the cock’s tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. Sam dug so deep into you that it made you dizzy already.

“Gonna fill you up real good,” Sam continued to penetrate you mercilessly, her aggressive and determined grunts vibrating pleasingly to your body and adding to the carnal state both of you were in. It was too easy to sliver her cock in and out of you now, fully lubricated given your sopping core. “My breedable little bitch. Fuck, I’d say you’re meant for this. Meant to take this huge cock, hm?” The stretch had you bucking your hips onto Sam, gyrating along her teasing thrusts in and out. “Tell me how good it feels. How I make you feel so good.” Her honeyed voice taunting you. Begging you.

You envision Sam’s words to your heart. If only it were possible, you wouldn’t mind a single bit of carrying her child. After all, there are countless good qualities that your girlfriend beautifully possesses. 

“You… you feel so fucking good against me,” A strained, throaty moan tumbled out of you. Sam hummed in your validation. “O-only you can have me- do me like this, Sammy…”

With your reassurance, came the rocking feeling of being so full again. Now Sam doesn’t move an inch, refusing to do so and determined to keep all of it plugged inside of you. You’re sure that she has moulded her entire cock out of your warm walls, stretched it out with no hesitation until it explored undiscovered spots from before.

To your shock, Sam flipped you again. It was insane how she recovered so quickly. Almost buck naked she sat now on the pool table and made you come up to ride her properly. She’s met with barely a resistance on your pussy as she easily shoved it up again with no trouble, moaning loudly and growling possessively as the curve of her length faintly made its outline known to your lower tummy’s skin. 

“God you look so beautiful with my cock inside of you.” Her grunts were vivid as Sam’s white hot breath directly hit your ears. You feel your core gush more wetness, body all feverish, loving how she's also desperate and enjoying this much as you do. 

She needs you. She admires you. Sam wants all of you.

You bounced helplessly and cried some more, to the point that your safeword dangerously hovered on the tip of your tongue. Until finally, Sam emptied out her fake cum inside of you – some of them dribbling down and smeared some more. Both of you were heavily breathing and Sam balanced your bodies – yours being slumped and weak against her, breathing ragged and eyelids heavy. You were fully spent and satisfied.

“So beautiful. Are you alright, mi amor?” Sam asked in pure concern. The lust on her eyes slowly dissipated, soft and only focused on your current state.

“Y-yes,”

Then a person barges in. You’re pretty sure that it’s a man who just squealed. He caught the sight of you and your girlfriend in a compromising position. You jump slightly and it was a bad idea, because one: you are naked, and two: Sam was still nestled deep inside of you. She also grunted at your accidental rocking.

Your stomach churned as you and Sam sober up quickly. Of course, you didn't like being seen like this if it weren’t only for Sam’s eyes to perceive you unashamedly. As expected, Sam hurriedly covered you first – fast and most as she can, at least. Your back was turned away from the man who entered the room, facing the wall.

Meanwhile, Sam had her chin tilted up, seemingly exasperated. If it weren't for your comforting touch on her forearm, she's sure of combusting in a messier manner, sporting the intimidating signature look on her demeanor. She almost looked unrecognizable with her cold and unamused gaze.

"I instructed you to knock three times." Sam quipped with a deep voice. “The receiver was also there, was it not? You could have buzzed in and waited outside.”

"Miss Loomis.. I- I- I did, I knocked before—”

Being in closer proximity to her, you felt some wetness gush out of your pussy. Blood rushed on your cheeks, as you made the previously pristine and high-end of a pool table now all messy and coated of your fluid. You caught a sliver of Sam’s defined hipbones and lines in her abdomen were prominent more than ever. She tucked her strap back as she pulled the cycling shorts up as quickly as she could. The room felt still for what feels like hours. 

"And is that enough? I strictly told you to never enter, especially when I’m with my partner."

Sam had a scrutinizing look over him. She’s more than fucking pissed. The mob boss has never seen his face before. It must've been a new recruit. If it were any other mistake, maybe Sam would have spared him. 

But no, he had to walk in while you were naked.

She bent down to reach underneath the pool table. She retrieves a gun. Your eyes widen but she hushes you, reassuring that everything is fine. although her eyes expressed the clear fuming with her jaw clenched, you gulped at the sight. 

Sam scoffed, she hated being messy in front of you. For her, increases the likely of you leaving her. "Don't turn around." She orders you still with gentleness lace on her tone. "I mean it. Just… stay here." 

Okay, you're more than fine with the sight.

Definitely so wet and turned on.

Sam moves and so does the man. Out of the room, you hear a few clicks and the cocking sound of the gun – the metal, spring, and unlocking of the weapon and you don't look further than that. And with the door slightly ajar, there's a loud sound that clearly indicates a shot. It's quick and followed with a heavy thud. A clear shot has been made. Your eyes widened. It rang your ears a little but it soon faded. 

"What the hell was that?"

"He's a dumb one, a new recruit." Your girlfriend replied blankly. She fluidly moves around the room and reaches for her phone, eyes not leaving your naked body. "I need you to do some cleaning up- uh huh. in here, near the living room- second one, yes." Then she quickly hung up.

"I hate being interrupted. He had to ruin it. Almost saw you, too. I'm sorry baby, but I had to finish him off.”

Sam sighed and rubbed her temple. She wasn't a fan of losing control in front of her beloved. Although this one tested her greatly, feeling an immense protectiveness, she didn't like one bit having any of her men seeing you in this vulnerable and naked state. Prancing around normally as though your sight isn't engraved in their filthy little dimwit brains. Now she worried only about your reaction; knowing your initial response was to run away, same as you did after opening up to her even then. She always pulled you close—held you tighter—whenever you did. 

She left a tender kiss behind your ear. You were immediately flooded with comfort. Her touch had a tendency to numb your worries down. It was familiar and gentle. Were you afraid? Surprisingly, you were not.

Out of all times you’ve seen her ‘lose’ it – was seemingly always out of making sure that you're safe, free from worries, gives you enough room as much as she can (knowing that Sam cannot resist invading your personal space) and has done anything to harm you in any way.

Sure, she just killed in front of you. But now, you can care less – knowing what your girlfriend’s nature and work entails. Besides, she has done it in your honor. In a twisted way, you interpreted it as a sign of her unwavering commitment to you; that you’ve always been a family to her – one that she plans on building one with, anyway. So instead, you reach to cradle Sam’s cheek and pressed a lingering kiss on her irresistible burgundy lips.

“You have me, always. Don’t worry.” You profess to her - a promise you intend to keep.

Sam grinned, visibly relaxing. Finally you fully understood her viewpoint.

Does it make you equally sick? Who the hell knows.

taglist: @not-alesha, @women-lover-kisser , @bluetreecloud20 , @danniackerman , @natsbraids , @melissabarreraswife , @bratydoll , @fantasylandbitch , @rocknr0ll , @mokotodenis123 , @deliriosinrose , @red1culous , @jennasoneanonly , @gaylorvader , @pixielovers2account **i can't tag others? :[

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[simplybakugou]

Story Mode 4 | Mystic Academia: Kaminari Denki's Route

⋆ PAIRING: gamer/streamer!kaminari x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: mentions of hospital and stab wound; fluff ⋆ WORD COUNT: 747

A/N: finished this at 1 am again yup yup. only two more parts left AAHHHHHH

NOTE: credits to @eraserhead-transparents for the kaminari cap

Mystic Academia: Kaminari Denki's Route Masterlist

“Y/N! Are you in here?” Sero questioned, barging into Kaminari’s room, not aware of the moment he had just ruined. Sero paused his movements as he took in the scene before him. Your hand was in Kaminari’s and you were sitting awfully close to his bed. Kaminari was leaning towards you. “Wait, did I just walk in on something?”

“You’re an idiot and I should kill you,” Kaminari said through gritted teeth, absolutely seething at how stupid Sero was. “Now get out.”

“Wait! I wanted to say hi to Y/N!” Sero exclaimed, watching as Kaminari got out of bed and started shoving Sero out of his room. “It’s my first time meeting her!”

“I don’t give a fuck. You’ve pissed me off,” Kaminari responded, successfully getting Sero out of the way.

“Bye Y/N!” Sero managed to squeeze in as he waved to you while getting maneuvered out of the way. 

You waved and laughed at the two, amused by how similar they were in the chat rooms and in person. Kaminari closed the curtain again, turning back and walking towards his bed. He sat at the edge of the bed, facing you.

“I guess the responsible thing to do would be to tell you to get home since it’s late…” Kaminari stated with a twinge of disappointment in his voice. 

“Hmm… I could just stay the night.”

Kaminari perked up after hearing that. He wanted nothing more than to spend more time with you. He had finally met the girl he had fallen for after over a week of non-stop messaging. But he knew your safety came before everything else. 

“You’re really making this hard, you know?” Kaminari said, feigning a glare at you in which you smiled in response. “But the party’s tomorrow. It already sucks that I have to be here tonight and leave tomorrow. We can’t have our event coordinator be late, too.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” You sighed, glancing down to your lap as you fidgeted with your fingers. “But I wanna stay here with you.”

Kaminari felt like his heart had burst at that moment. He reached out and grabbed your hand, prompting you to look up at him. “I want you to stay, too. More than anything.”

He gave your hand a small squeeze. “After what happened I can’t let you stay here knowing that freak is out there. That Unknown dude might take advantage of you being here and come after us while we’re sleeping. And I won’t be able to live with myself if anything ever happened to you, Y/N.”

Your heart nearly skipped a beat at his words, so much so that it surprised you. How did Kaminari go from strangers just over a week ago to someone you wanted to be close to so desperately.

Kaminari continued rambling on about being conflicted about sending you home but also wanting to spend time with you. However you weren’t paying attention to a single word coming out of his mouth, practically staring a hole into his face from your intense gaze as you were lost in your thoughts. 

Only a few days ago you felt overwhelmed by how quickly you were developing feelings for Kaminari. And after finding out the gravity of the situation he and Sero were in, you felt a fear instilled in you as you worried about his well being. You desperately wanted him to be okay as you were fidgeting anxiously in the taxi ride to the hospital.

And here he was, acting as happy-go-lucky as always as he was concerning himself with your safety after quite literally being impaled in the same night. 

“Hey are you even listening?” Kaminari questioned, noticing the blank stare on your face. 

“Just shut up.”

“What?”

“I’m not waiting for us to be interrupted again.” Before Kaminari could question what you were going on about, you pulled your hand from his grasp, reaching forward and grabbing his face in your palms as you pulled him towards you. You locked your lips over his, taking Kaminari aback as his eyes widened. After registering your bold action, Kaminari wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you down onto his lap. 

At that moment, Kaminari didn’t care about anything else. The hacker, the stalker, and even Unknown who had stabbed him only a few hours ago, none of it mattered. He’d take the pain he went through a thousand times over if it meant being with you.

JOIN THE TAGLIST

[writeroutoftime]

solemn vows

pairing: rhysand x reader

summary: joined by the inner circle, you and rhys get to have your mating ceremony, publicly declaring your love to your family

warnings/tags: none - just fluff!!

words: 1k

a/n: ahhh my first rhysand fic! look I love him and feyre together, but I also love him for myself too lol! of course I'm so excited to post this, but also very very nervous!! please be gentle lol, but I'd love to hear what you think! have a fabulous day!

as promised, tagging @captainsophiestark - enjoy!

(p.s. if anyone wants to request a story for rhys, cass, azriel, or lucien, please send it my way!)

oOoOo

The stars twinkled beautifully in the deep, dark night sky, shining down on you and your family like a blessing. Images of the night Rhysand took you to a nearby temple and had you sworn in as High Lady of the Night Court washed over you like a wave of comfort.

The ceremony had been a private affair. Vows shared only between you, Rhys, and the priestess who blessed the coronation. Vows that would soon be felt by the people of the night court, and across Prythian as a whole.

Your mating ceremony, however, was an intimate affair you and Rhys wanted to share with the Inner Circle - your chosen family. The people who stood by you time and time again, rooting for your happiness. Mor, Cassian, Azriel, and even Amren had thrown so much time and effort in helping you make the vision for your special day a reality.

And so, you now eagerly waited behind a pillar, clutching your bouquet of various, violet flowers. There was no doubt in your mind this was what you wanted, and when the orchestral music began, you took a deep breath and nodded to Cassian and Azriel.

Ever the gentle giants, the two had leapt at the opportunity to be a part of the event. You knew how much it had meant to them when you asked if they would walk down the aisle with you. So much so that it had caused tears from both males, though they would vehemently deny that fact if teased by anyone else.

With the two males flanked on either side, you walked down the aisle, your knees felt just a bit weaker than they had moments before when your eyes finally met Rhys' sparkling, violet ones. The waves of love and devotion sent down the bond almost knocked you off your feet. Similar messages were sent from your end, and the watery smile Rhys offered brought you such joy.

When you reached the end, you turned first to Cassian, then to Azriel, offering both males a kiss on the cheek and a nod of gratitude. As they made their way to sit with the rest of your family, you took your place next to Rhysand in front of the priestess here to bless the union.

She welcomed the small, but mighty crowd, and began to speak. "We are here tonight, blessed by the Mother and the Cauldron, to witness Rhys and y/n declare their mating bond for all in Prythian to see. It is not something done lightly, but rather a journey these two have agreed to partake in for the rest of eternity."

She then looked upon you and Rhys, offering a small smile, encouraging you to swear your own vows to each other.

"Rhysand," you began, already furiously blinking away the tears that clouded your eyes. "I have loved you from the moment I knew you. There is not a doubt in my mind that we are meant to be together. I am honored to stand beside you as your wife, your high lady, and your mate. I swear to you I will always protect our bond, protect you. That I will cherish each day together we are blessed with, and make sure you always know how much you are loved."

You sealed your vows by slipping the simple, but sturdy, silver ring onto Rhys' finger. Bringing your mate's hand to your mouth, you gently brushed your lips over the newly placed ring, delighting at the tug on your bond in response. So enraptured, in fact, you and Rhys were only half aware of the soft sobs that came from the crowd.

Rhys' violet eyes glistened with emotion as his large hands encapsulated yours in a firm grasp. "y/n, my high lady, my mate, my wife, with this hand, I will lift your sorrows." he began, eyes only for you, releasing his left hand to raise near his face. "Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine, and I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine." he spoke, reaching out to grasp the matching ring and slip in onto your finger.

"If you both would now offer each other the wine from your chalice." the priestess said.

With almost practiced precision, you and Rhys reached out to each grab a chalice of wine. Linking arms with the other, you offered Rhys a smile before lifting your cup up to his lips as he did the same to you. As the chalices were placed back on the table, you felt a small drop fall down your face and shivered at the feather-light touch Rhys used to brush it away, only love and adoration in his eyes.

"Our High Lord and Lady have professed their vows to each other. May the Mother and Cauldron bless them for as long as they should live. May the rest of Prythian know the strength of their love as those here tonight have witnessed." the priestess declared, tying a black ribbon around yours and Rhys' hands, then offered the faintest smirk. "You may now kiss your bride."

The words were barely out of the priestess's mouth before Rhys leaned forward, cupping your cheek with his hands and pressing his lips against yours. You could feel the love pouring into your body, his lips soft, but sure. A kiss that reminded you of this beautiful, new start for you and your mate.

As the two of you pulled away, you both let out a slight gasp, looking down at your left hands. Swirls of Night Court ink adorned your left hands, a visual promise of the vows you had just declared.

"Hello, my darling wife." Rhys gazed down at you with a dazzling grin. "Let's see what fate has in store for us, shall we?

[scoobydoodean]

I was wondering if you, as a Dean fan have opinions about the different writers? Mostly because I see a lot of Dean fans really strongly dislike Dabb for some reason and I don’t really understand why. I’ve never seen a concrete explanation beyond “he can’t write Dean/doesn’t understand Dean/actively hates Dean” but with no examples as to what he does that’s so bad. And I see this in every shipping lane. I don’t have a strong opinion about him as a writer one way or the other.

I'm exploring this more as I rewatch the show (currently on season 6) so I'll speak mainly from that perspective on my most recent thoughts. I am not a big fan of Dabb or Loflin, but have tried to be fair about things so far when talking through each episode. I am a fan of "Alpha and Omega"—it's my favorite finale (it's also... a finale for a season Carver started as showrunner? So I don't know what the implications are there as far as storyboarding). Also points for having demon Dean stab a guy through in 10.02.

I'll focus on the negatives you asked about in this post, but in the links you'll find me moving the narrative this way and that toward much more charitable readings... I think. (I do have a tag #dabb disk horse which you can either peruse or blacklist at your leisure). What I can tell you is something almost always strikes me as a off about Dabb/Loflin episodes so far in this rewatch in terms of character work.

Dabb/Loflin's first ever episode was 4.06 "Yellow Fever". In the aftermath, Kripke felt the need to release a definitive interpretation of their episode to the public, stating, "Dean is not a dick... he's a hero." The whole episode toyed with, to an extent, the idea that all the victims of the MotW were bullies. You can take this other directions—for example, queer meta, or meta about Sam as the real bully. However, the story a lot of fandom latched onto was that "Dean is a jerk and deserves to be humiliated and punished for that" which obviously didn't make Dean fans watching live in season 4 happy—and this theme of Jerk!Dean continues into their next episode, "After School Special", where they once again parallel Dean with a bully literally nicknamed "Dirk the Jerk" by Sam, and throw what I think is transparent shade at Kripke's issued statement from before the Christmas break (post here)... or maybe they mean to throw shade at the Dean fans who got angry. In this episode, they also make illusions to Dean wanting to have sex with barely legal high school cheerleaders, which also did not ingratiate them to Deanfans at the time. I said on my last rewatch, "In After School Special, Dean seems more unlike himself than any episode ever in the history of Supernatural up to this point" (post explaining that here). I carry similar sentiments about portions of 5.06 "I Believe The Children Are Our Future". Yes—I am aware of performing Dean meta. I just... feel like they try a little too hard. It feels hamfisted—desperate. To the point it doesn't feel like Dean anymore sometimes. In 5.06, they also have Dean (guy who is generally very protective of kids) suggest to Jesse that he'd be good to have in a fight???? I can see how they got there, but again—it just feels... off. The last episode I rewatched that they authored, 6.04 "Weekend At Bobby's", also leaves a bad taste in my mouth—not in what it's trying to do with Bobby or what it's trying to do on a meta level—but once again, with dialogue from Dean that just makes me think "he would not fucking say that" (post here). I think looking at all of these, you can probably see deangirl ire toward Dabb has a long history. It's been around as long as he's been around, whether he deserves as much ire as he gets or not.

I haven't circled back yet on this rewatch, but Dabb and Loflin also penned season 7's "The Girl Next Door"... do I need to say anything specific? Maybe I'll just link my entire #amy tag. What narrative did they want you to get from that episode? Who the fuck knows. And that's often the problem:

When you watch various episodes I've mentioned, you can work around to a meta that tells you something different than you might at first think the page conveys—something hidden and maybe contradictory. The thing is... you could also... not do that? And that wouldn't be so bad, except that sometimes the two narratives you can most easily grasp completely contradict each other. "After School Special" can be an episode that points to Sam's envy of Dean and John deep down and foreshadows Sam becoming a bully, but on a meta level, it also just as easily says Sam becoming a bully is somehow Dean's fault, and Sam is some poor captive baby. Dean is a creep and a bully and a cheater but we should all coddle him because he saw his mom die when he was a child and he's sooo sad. "Yellow Fever" can be a queer meta story and might also foreshadow approaching Bully!Sam in 4.14, but it also very much does call Dean a jerk (should we take that seriously? should we not?) and implies Dean should be punished for the outcome of three decades of reality-bending torture. Even if it's a queer meta underneath... it's just as easily one about how closeted men should be humiliated for cowardice or how being closeted turns you into an asshole.

Jumping way ahead, I have to mention 15.10 "The Hero's Journey" just because. Yes, it is full of jokes and Garth goodness, but also tries to sell you the story that nothing about Sam and Dean is real, to a degree that feels like you are being flipped the bird for ever watching this show. And again—you can make meta that it's all a ruse! But is it? Or is Dabb actually just telling you to go fuck yourself? Like he totally wasn't when, after the SPN finale when fans were Not Happy™️, he tweeted a sign reading, "Don't feed the baboons"? Yet again—we play into the motif of the "hero" who isn't a hero at all but some pathetic loser who deserves to be publicly humiliated, bookended with Dabb's opening episode in his opening season. I'm not saying that's what it is on purpose—but I am saying you can make these arguments easily, and that leaves me consistently annoyed with Dabb for being fucking sloppy and leaving me to deal with some of the most insufferable meta imaginable that carries little support outside of episodes written by Dabb or the Dabb/Loflin writing team.... Yes—I am in fact saying that Dabb and Loflin's hamfisted episodes (regardless of their intentions) are largely responsible for some of the most insufferable, loathesome fandom metas about Sam and Dean's relationship around.

Look at 5.16 "Dark Side Of The Moon", and 7.08 "Time for A Wedding!" and 8.14 "Trial and Error", 11.17 "Red Meat", and 15.20 "Carry On". Along with 4.13, while they might or might not say something deeper or contradictory on a meta level, on a surface level, every single one of these episodes sows the narrative that Dean is needy and clingy and needs Sam more than Sam needs him—something I intensely disagree with for a multitude of reasons... but I'll just link this. Many of these episodes also follow a surface level narrative of "normal life obsessed Sam" (and here I'll link my entire #sam the hunter tag and #in which sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea). When I look at this episode list, I also don't find it at all difficult to believe that Dabb wanted Dean to die in the finale. There is nothing at all shocking about that. And yes—you can argue he's pointing to the opposite—that this fate should be subverted and that's what makes 15.20 the dark ending, but I think you can just as easily argue that yes it's a dark ending and yes Dabb has always dreamed of this ending. A "tragic" ending where Dean dies and Sam goes on to have a white picket fence... while also leaving you little hints along the way that maybe it's all a big ruse because how could he not? He never has to explain anything. Someone else will pick up the story and make it make sense. He's already fucked off to piss all over fans of Resident Evil.

That said, when I mention what I feel is off character work, I mainly mention Dabb/Loflin episodes from my recent rewatch, which suffer from the two of them being newer to the series (coming onto the writing team in season 4) and also leave questions about whether, perhaps, they had conflicting ideas about characterization. Was Dabb the one penning these lines? Was it Loflin? Was it both? Did they trade out who took the lead? I didn't really say anything negative about "Sam, Interrupted" or "Jump the Shark"... (though "Sam, Interrupted" also calls Dean "codependent") who wrote those? Is it possible that the messiness of the meta comes down to two writers at war? I have to imagine though, that they got along, or else they wouldn't have written together for four fucking years. If they didn't get along...? My mind always comes back to their first solo episodes, right after splitting up in season 8. Dabb's first solo episode is "Hunteri Heroici"—the only episode to lend any perspective to season 8 Sam's reasons for abandoning everyone—paralleling him checking out with Fred's catatonia, which Sam has to save Fred from. It is the only episode that lends Sam sympathy in the early part of the season. He follows it up with "Trial and Error"—where Sam promises to save Dean from suicidal thoughts. Loflin's first solo episode is what I would regard as the most scathing solo episode commentary on Sam in the entire series—"Citizen Fang". Then he writes again right after Dabb's "Trial and Error"—penning "Remember The Titans" where Sam tells Dean to get over the promise Sam so passionately made in Dabb's episode and face reality.

This is why we're exploring this rewatch.

DISCLAIMER: Now I just devolve into bitching because I'm writing at 3AM. Proceed at your own risk.

It seems like these days, everyone demands an explanation for disliking Dabb (something about some sort of destiel battle... I don't know what that flamewar is and I don't give a damn tbqh.) I guess I've just been wondering what's actually so great about him. Because it feels like people have overcorrected to basically acting like he's god's greatest gift to mankind. People point to how meta his episodes can be, but I think other writers easily best him on that front on multiple occasions (particularly enjoyed by me so far on this rewatch: 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me", 4.04 "Monster Movie", 4.12 "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag"), and without leaving their meaning so up in the air that you don't even know what the hell they were actually trying to tell you because there are two different completely incongruous narratives you could just as justifiably claim were the intended one. Some people may find that duality praise-worthy. I don't. I find it sloppy—and when I add in mediocre character work, I just land on the side of him being, at the very best, mid.

Add him in as showrunner, you have... at least two of my least favorite seasons (13 and 15). Add that he's a one-trick pony in terms of the Sam and Dean conflicts mentioned above that he continuously rehashes rather than come up with anything new or fresh, and the same conflicts between Dean and Cas being played out until they both die (shut UP I'm not talking about canon destiel as the alternative—I am literally just asking for more diverse conflicts). I can't say I understand what I''m supposed to find so impressive.

(Before anyone so much as breathes this near me, Berens also sucks and I am going to tear off your nose hairs if you start bringing him up as if disliking Dabb for some reason means wearing rose colored glasses about Berens. Berens can eat a whole cactus raw over "The Trap" alone.)

[gay-dorito-dust]

okay so I just read the blurb about cannibal and reader going north to avoid family drama and that got me thinking !!

what if reader went to dorne and arrived at sunspear during the name day celebration of qoren martell eldest daughter (who is also the heir to dorne) and reader is invited to dine with the martell as a special guest.

the martell's have a lot of questions for her. here are a quotes I came up with from the dinner conversations:

a martel prince - "so which colour do you bare in this brewing war. black or green?"

reader - "neither, my loyality is to myself and my dragon. the highborns can do as they please, but I will not allow myself and my dragon to be turned into pawns so incestious maniacs can war over an ugly-looking metal chair and matching hat"

qoren martell - "there must be somthing special about your blood, as it is not everyday that someone who is not a targaryen claims a dragon."

reader - "there is not much special prince qoren, if you were to cut me now and smear my blood next to another hundred common borns I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to tell the difference."

and then the eldest daughter (who is clearly into reader) asks to ride cannibal and begs her parents to let her (they reluctantly agree) but reader needs a bit more convincing.

heir princess of dorne - "I am not scared"

reader - "it is not a question of being scared or not. it is the question of if cannibal will eat you or not."

okay now stay with me on this what is reader rubs her sent (like an item of her clothing) on the princess to decrease the chances of cannibal eating her. and the two go for a flight and end up kissing which cannibal isn't to happy with. and the two girls def end up becoming a lot more than just friends. heheh hope you like this idea feel free to ignore it if it's shit <3

I hope this was alright for you, sweetheart. Sorry if it seems a little clunky in some places.

I love the idea that people have heard news of reader being a non-Valyrian who claimed the wildest of all dragons, and are just naturally curious as to what makes them unique for Cannibal to finally yield and take up a rider.

It’s a mystery that no one will ever know, not even reader cuz they’re probably just as confused about that. However it isn’t something that you want to delve in deeper because you were well aware that many houses, both big and small, had their eyes on you and were anxious.

Houses such as Bracken, Blackwood, Celtigar, Tully, lannisters, Baratheon’s, Starks, Greyjoy, Aryn etc. The realm holds its breath whenever you pass by on Cannibal, halting all forms of conflict as you soared above them unbothered. You just wanted to be left alone and you could feel that Cannibal felt similar.

You knew from stories that to doubt your bond with a dragon was dangerous but your bond with cannibal was forged out of your common desire, to be able to be free to live how you felt fit, free of the personal agendas of the highborn.

So when you arrived at Dorne, you were easily spotted by the royal family and were greeted in kind as a guest on the behest of the princess of Dorne herself, who was quick to cling onto your arm and smile as you spoke while Cannibal watched on, tired of yet another person filling to hide their seemingly immediate infatuation with you. He only hopes that you were asked for your hand…again.

So once you arrived to dinner, the questions were quick to spill and you answered them in quick succession.

‘The throne is rather ugly, I see no reason to fight over it when I’d rather have it burned.’ You told them as you sipped from your goblet, trying to not be affected by the way that the Dornish princess was rubbing the back of your hand softly, sweetly. ‘Besides people have already forgotten the cause of this war and are too fickle to remember as they’re too eager in spilling blood.’ You add.

Qoren Martel, with wise eyes, leaned forward. ‘You are a nomad? You fly no flag for either cause?’

‘No.’ You tell her.

‘Why? Were their offers not sufficient for you? Did gold and glory not arise any temptation within you?’ Qorne pressed as a silence befell the table as you felt the eyes of the princess and prince on you, but you were far too use to the questions being asked as they were the same you’ve heard from the likes of Alicent, Otto, Rhaenyra and Daemon.

You were the wild card they didn’t see nor expect and now we’re trying to quell you and Cannibal before the war reached a point where Dragons were brought into it. You were Cannibal’s counterpart in human skin as he was yours in dragon scales, you two were a force to be reckoned with and you had yet to engage in combat.

‘The thoughts of riches and glory and power is enough to tempt even the strongest man in Westeros, I however value things that go beyond such.’ You told her.

‘And what is that?’ Qorne inquired, raising her brow, curiosity taking over her as it did Dornish prince beside her as he too leant in close to her your words.

‘To find peace, to be left alone and out of the minds of every person in the realm. There was a reason cannibal never left his cave and yet, he came out for me and now he will not know rest because of me, and I want him to find rest be it with or without me.’ You tell her as you thought about how tired Cannibal had become during your journey, you could feel the ache of his bones as though it were you who were tired, you loved Cannibal and respected him immensely but you didn’t wish to have him suffer for the greed of others.

From a distance Cannibal lets out a groan, as though feeling your emotions through your bond to let you know that he made his choice in his rider, and that he did not liked his choice to be one of contention if his rider is feeling strongly about his wellbeing. For he was a dragon of old Valyria and could handle more than what was given to him now.

Stubborn old fool. You thought to yourself.

I heard you little one. You then heard cannibal speak in your mind, his voice a low timbre that could be felt within your chest, through your bones and more. You weren’t certain if Aemond, Aegon, daemon or the others could heard the voices of their dragons within their one head, or if you were the only one who had achieved such a thing; Either way it was just another thing that made you feel even more alone.

‘You put the realm at risk for the sake of your dragon?’ The Dornish prince asked as though the thought befuddled him.

‘It is not I who will torch Westeros.’ You reminded him, ‘it’s the Targaryen’s that are currently infighting right now who will, in merely a commoner who just so happened to be favoured by a god.’

‘A god? You consider your dragon on equal footing with the gods?’ The princess next to you asked eagerly as she gripped your hand.

‘Shouldn’t we all?’ You rhetorically replied before carrying on. ‘The Targaryens have fooled themselves into thinking their superior due to their control over them, a fallacy I call it, but if you take away their control. So who’s to say that they can’t be cut down like any other man regardless of social status.’ You looked into Qoren Martel’s eyes when you say this as a look of understanding passes over her face.

‘Can I ride with you on Cannibal?’ The princess asked suddenly and you almost chocked on your drink as Qorne was quick to voice her displeasure at her daughter’s brashness.

‘Of course you cannot.’ She barked, ‘that beast will seat no other than his rider.’ She then looks over to you, ‘am I correct in that assumption?’

‘Of course!’ You replied quickly as you aided in her attempts to prevent the princess from doing anything reckless. ‘Cannibal will not permit anyone other than me to ride upon his back, he’s…’ you paused as you looked behind yourself to see Cannibal reach up and feast upon a flock of birds passing by, ‘…well he’s as the legend of old speak of.’

The princess didn’t seem pleased with your answer as she stared you down. ‘I can handle it.’

You and Qorne Martel shared a look across the table that spoke of exhaustion that felt as though lasted for hours on end until it was broken by a sigh. ‘Fine you may fly with our guest on Cannibal but on one condition.’

‘Anything mother.’ The princess said, back straightened.

‘Come right back.’ Qorne said with finality as the princess was quick to grab you by the arm and drag you towards cannibal but before she was about to mount him, you pull her back and she looked at you with furrowed brows. ‘Why did you stop me?’

You didn’t speak a word but rip a piece of your clothing from your person and began rubbing it on the princess wrists, neck, cheeks and arms. ‘Protecting you.’ You said afterwards, letting go of her arm as she quickly mounted cannibal who gave you a look before you mounted him.

‘Hold on tight princess.’ You whispered in the beautiful woman’s ear as you reached past her and patted Cannibal twice before gripping the princess by her waist, pulling her close to your front as you took off to the skies above.

Cannibal wasn’t at the least impressed, and was even made more so when he looked behind to see that the princess had your face held between her hands as she leant in for a kiss. You didn’t make any moves to stop her as you indulged yourself in her sweet lips, heavenly and intoxicating as she was as you closed your eyes. Who’d knew kissing in the sky would be as romantic as you initially thought?

Cannibal only huffed as he continued to fly onward, he’ll let you have this one moment, you’ve been more then deserving of it for what the realm has put you both through.

[drconstellation]

First-Order Archangels

Part 1: Maybe You'll Spot An Archangel

GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking.

While I was writing my meta series The Passion Of Jimbriel it became fairly obvious to me there was something more going on between Crowley and Gabriel in S2 than just the numerous pointers to Crowley's pre-fall angel status. They are acting as both parallels and foils to each other, and in places you can swap their characters and get the same story at a different time – and that just opens up a whole new window of context and insight into things. For pre-reading, see this meta from @vidavalor that nicely lists some obvious parallels. It doesn’t mention everything though, so I’m going to discuss parts in more detail.

A foil is a character who contrasts with the protagonist, to highlight or differentiate certain qualities between the characters. Crowley and Gabriel do this because they have come from essentially the same place, and share some story elements, but they still end up in different places.

There is a lengthy original discussion about Crowley's pre-fall angel status here, for pre-reading. It points out the obvious and some not so obvious points that ops have noticed in S2 telling us about Crowley's pre-fall status. Rather than just go through them all again, I'd like to look at some other scenes in S2 that also tell us something about both the similarities and the differences between these two high-powered entities as I go along. In addition, I’ve done a series of posts looking at Gabriel as a shoulder angel (links at the end of post,) because quite often he’s on the demonic left-hand side – which makes sense when you realize he’s a Crowley parallel.

Take the arrival of Gabriel to Whickber St and the bookshop. I’ve already mentioned this parallel story line a couple of times now, but lets look at it again in more detail. It mirrors the opening of S1E1 where the serpent climbs the wall of the Garden of Eden, morphs into a demon and starts to converse with the angel standing on the wall.

Back in the present day, we have a Gabriel, who also tends to present on the sinister-side, walking up to the gate of the present day Garden (the bookshop), which is still guarded by the same angel as it was 6000 years ago, and basically tells Aziraphale he has “fallen.”

How to we know this? It is a reference to the Fall of Man, when Adam and Eve ate the apple the serpent offered them, they suddenly became aware of their nakedness, and hid from God. Gabriel has already upset the love-apple tomato cart on his way to the door of the bookshop, its a sign of the chaos to come.

The fallen angel is not sure of his name, so he prompts with a question…

And asks for shelter under the (reluctant) angel’s wing..

But there is one thing he does know, the one thing that drew him to Aziraphale in the first place:

AZIRAPHALE: Then why did you come to my shop? GABRIEL: I don't know. I just thought I should. You know what it's like when you- when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?

Later, Aziraphale realizes that he must give Gabriel a new name to hide him – because fallen angels take on a new name, don’t they? Just like Crowley did.

Then we get a confession:

Which is what Crowley loves about Aziraphale as well - that bit of unpredictability, because you know how humour kind of works? It throws the unexpected at you.

Early on in S2 we find out they are both in trouble: first His Royal Smugness, then Our Hero himself. Our view is turned upside down, with the angel made the bad guy and the demon the good guy who needs to win. But both of them are being hunted by Shax.

Then we get one of the early clues pointing to Crowley's high status as an angel:

SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of Archangels could've performed. CROWLEY: Mm? SHAX: Somewhere very close to your friend's bookshop. Are you telling me you don't know what caused it? CROWLEY: How'd you know I didn't do it?

Shax stalks and threatens both of them, sometimes at the same time:

Another parallel Gabriel and Crowley shared in S2 were associating their identity - no, lets rephrase that - "essence" was one description I've seen - with boxes.

Gabriel arrives with a box that strategically covers his front, and quickly tosses it aside once Aziraphale opens the door to the bookshop. It lies forgotten until Gabriel mentions it a while later. Inside it is the fly from Beelzebub - an object from Hell - so it really needs to be 'invited' across the threshold of the bookshop by Aziraphale to be able to enter. The box initially appears to be empty, Once inside, the fly is free to roam. It has a message written on one side of it.

The same goes for the matchbox. Message included.

ah, wot? you say. Yep.

The matchbox represents Crowley, probably in more ways than one, but I'll just go through the stuff relevant to this meta here.

I notice I'm not the only op to connect the line from the Book of Job on the side of the matchbox with Crowley. The line is from Verse 41, which talks about Leviathan. Among the various shapes it is described to take is a great sea serpent. This deserves its own meta for further discussion, which I plan to do after this one, because yes, Crowley is Leviathan in disguise, but there is much more to it than that. But for now, just know that the matchbox is Crowley.

Once you know this, it makes sense that Muriel finds it - a discarded cardboard box by the front door to Heaven - and deals with a material object that shouldn't by rights exist in Heaven. Then a certain demon finds Muriel lurking outside during the siege on the bookshop at the end of S2E5, and talks them into letting the certain demon be escorted up into Heaven where he doesn't belong, where he's free to roam around - only he needs a guide because he's not sure where to go. Ah Muriel, you poke the Serpent, he's going to poke you back. Good thing he likes you, and it just was a gentle nudge.

Two empty boxes, two cases of memory-loss. That is what S2 seems to suggest to us at first glance.

Gabriel's seems to be the most straight forward in hindsight - find the fly and restore Gabriel to his original "Gabriel-ness." But its more complicated than that. When pushed to remember, his lilac eyes return and another voice can be heard speaking through him of the past. This happens twice, with the second one being part-prophecy. What is really triggering these episodes of channeling? Is it God or someone else speaking through him? We really aren't sure at this point in time.

Then there are questions around Crowley's memory. Did he have his memory wiped when he fell? Was it wiped repeatedly? Was it not wiped at all, and he just pretends he doesn't remember? Neil has even said he is an unreliable narrator about his own Fall, so who are we to trust at this point? Crowley does seem to understand in the end some of the problems Gabriel is having with his absent memories and that brings them to a temporary truce.

Both Aziraphale and Michael inspect their respective "empty" boxes, and neither notices anything obviously amiss. Gabriel's box just seems empty to Aziraphale, he takes no notice of the fly container in there, and archangel Michael tentatively inspects the matchbox brought to them by Muriel but nothing seems out of place there either.

Crowley's change in costume in Heaven during his little infiltration caper with Muriel is also another clue to his past status as an archangel. He has a silvery-gray suit, similar in style to Saraqael's to reinforce the link with them, but at the same time he is also mocking the other archangels and their elite status. We've assumed for a while now that the appearance of the tactical turtleneck signals that Crowley is up to something sneaky or spy related, but I'm starting to think it also relates to a bit of a power play (and Crowley certainly laid the power on for Mr Brown in the pub!) Looking back at S1, Gabriel's not adverse to wearing one either when he needs to be at his worst (or best. Your choice.)

The way one dresses is a way of expressing and reinforcing authority, and its something both Gabriel and Crowley do without much thought. They have been used to being in a position of power and/or independent authority for much of their existence, and I would say that even if Crowley is a few steps down now from where he started, and he's more cautious around those higher ranking than him than he used to be, he still retains that knowledge of what its like to be at the top.

Crowley's usual near all-black costume is a form of power dressing in itself. Whether is was in the past, when black was an expensive color to buy and maintain in clothing, or in the present day, we are still respectful of those in a stylish cut of black.

Gabriel's impeccable tailoring as Supreme Archangel also commands respect. So it's no wonder that one of Gabriel's first requests on regaining his memories was to ask for new clothes! He wasn't just being the vain archangel we believe him to be (although, I think there is still some of that) you also need to consider the elements of the reference characters that went into his shop assistant character: Granville, the belittled shop assistant nephew from the sitcom Open All Hours, who got stuck with all the shop duties from his uncle and felt like life was passing him by, and the silly Monty Python gumbies, that complained of hurting brains - lovable and much loved characters, but not ones you'd really want to be forever. We all want to be loved, but we want to be respected as well.

For all his fierce posturing around Gabriel, there is a brief moment in S2E3 where Crowley backs down and treats Gabriel as an equal - and that is reflected in a change of dress as well. His outside jacket off and sleeve-garters on, Crowley sports a look we haven't seen since S1 when he was home alone in his Mayfair flat. He patiently explains gravity to a curious Gabriel and then describes his "Operation Lovebirds" plan to his puzzled companion. He admits he hasn't "done weather in ages." It's just a quiet, charming moment, watching two ex-archangels get along together.

You're smiling, aren't you?

This meta continues in Part 2: Foils of War, where the differences between Gabriel and Crowley get explored in more detail, and how Aziraphale and Beelzebub act as mirrors to each other a few times as well.

This meta is part of a series on Gabriel: Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball S2 Study Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day

First-Order Archangels Part 2: Foils of War

First-Order Archangels Part 3: Seeing Eye to Eye

[httpdwaekki]

i'm sorry to clog the tags but i needed to get something off my chest.

i'm never done this but, i've noticed a common theme in alot of reader insert fics recently and i know most people won't care but i feel the need to get this off my chest.

i feel like people have lost what the point of reader insert is. the entire point of it is so the READER can insert themselves into the story. the entire point is to not describe the reader's appearance or to do it vaguely so the reader can still view themself in the story.

i know for me especially, i'm tall and chubby and most reader inserts are made for people who are skinnier and shorter. using phrases like "his hand encapsulates the entirety her small wrist.' or " he wraps his arms around her small waist." or "he looked down at her."

(disclaimer: these are NOT directly from any writers fic, they are sentences that use similar language to what i've seen alot.)

for me personally this can completely take me out of a fic, i'll exit and move onto the next because truth be told, it makes me feel like shit. (again speaking for MY own personal experience)

to the same point, smaus and fake texts, i've noticed alot of people using pictures of people to depict the reader, which again, can take someone completely out of a fic. because most of the time it's some small skinny beauty standard body that not everyone has.

there's also something to be said about how most reader inserts are definitely written with the implications that the reader is white, but as a white person it doesn't feel like my place to start the discourse on that subject. HOWEVER, i am very much aware that is very much present in reader insert fics and it felt wrong to not at least mention that when discussing this.

now, there's a difference between reader insert and say, for example, chubby!reader, for a few reasons. 1, it is being stated that the reader has a specific body type or that the writing is making the fic for that specific attribute. 2, some people wanna read/write about their body type or something about them that's different from what is perceived as "normal" (by normal i don't mean what's actually what's normal i just mean what society views as normal). it can be very validating and comforting.

now, if you wanted to make an oc, then that's totally different, and i'm NOT talking about that in this case. i'm talking about fics labled as reader insert fics.

again i want to make it VERY clear that this is not directed towards anyone. this is simply my experiences and what i've personally seen, and me voicing MY opinions. if i said anything wrong or offensive, please let me know i am open to different points of view but this is simply MY experience and MY opinions.

love you guys, please remember to drink water, eat something, and take your meds. <3

[deathlooksgoodonyou-if]

FAQ

The long awaited faq is here! All your asked and unasked questions at one place! I was planning on posting this after releasing the demo but I realised things here can be a somewhat puzzling for new readers. Hence, here we are. I'll just keep updating this as we move forward.

Most of the questions I have received have been related to character dynamics haha.

Warning : this is super long.

The romance and character dynamics.

1. Are we romancing a ghost here?

No. Opportunities to romance Jules take place in the past. Some of them in the form of flashbacks. A few chapters will be dedicated solely in the past for a better understanding of MC and Jules' unhealthy relationship and what took place between them.

2. Why is a dead person an RO?

I have been hesitant of labelling Jules as full fledged RO since the beginning because they are well, dead, you know. Also, because their route is drastically different from what is typically expected. I have now settled for the term 'semi RO' since the MC can choose to never move on from Jules or healthily accept their death but choose to never settle for another person etc.

3. Is romancing Jules' necessary?

Not at all. But the MC will always be a close confidant of Jules. Other ros and characters' disposition towards you changes depending on your relationship with Jules. In fact, most routes— including Jules— are easier if the MC's relationship with Jules is solely platonic.

4. How do the character dynamics change?

That would be spoilers, but I can give you a few hints. Some ros would be hesitant of romancing the MC, most would feel insecure— especially if the MC seems hung up on Jules. MC can romance an ro, only to use them as a rebound. You can choose to go for the twin solely for the reason she is similar to Jules' in appearance and use her as an anchor.

5. How did Jules and MC's friendship/relationship develop?

You'll find out!

6. What was Dylan and Jules' relationship like?

Summarising it in one word— disastrous!

7. Do I have to care about Jules and be affected by their death?

The MC can be indifferent to anything regarding Jules' in the present but they will always be somewhat affected by their death. HOWEVER, you will get to choose why you were affected in the later chapters. There are plot reasons for that, trust me.

As for the past, the MC will be forced to care about Jules'. That is something which is set. Sorry about that. You can choose to change your disposition towards Jules after Dylan enters the picture.

8. So, warren has a crush on the MC. My MC is not into men. Can that somehow change?

No, sorry. Feelings are not something anyone can control but I can assure you Warren will never make a move on the MC (unless you trigger his romance route) because he would never want to put them in an uncomfortable position. He is a considerate friend of the MC before anything else.

There have been no romantic undertones in MC and Warren's friendship prior to the story taking place— despite of the MC being aware of his feelings. You can choose why.

I am planning on writing a serious conversation between warren and mc's who are not into men. But I don't want it to turn out too painfully awkward either. Although, even if it did, it would make sense and be in character but... I am not sure. I guess, we will have to see. I don't want to write something that will make my readers uncomfortable and be done with it. Maybe I will take advice from my audience.

9. What was Jules and MC's relationship?

The romance route is pretty messy and quite difficult to summarise in one word. A lot happens. Overall, romanced or not, it will be a unhealthy relationship.

10. Hold up. Then, why is Dylan Jules' ex?

Jules and MC met before Jules entered into a relationship with Dylan. There was undeniable tension that was never addressed :)

As for why Romanced!Jules dated Dylan— you'll find out in the demo (though not all their reasons are justifiable) You can choose to get jealous, take it as the biggest betrayal in history or immediately lose feelings for them.

11. I don't like Jules' romance route.

Please understand Jules is a very conflicted individual due to their upbringing and being with them can be difficult at times. If that is not your cup tea then Jules romance is simply not for you. Jules actions at times, may not make sense or be justifiable. Jules is not a good person; they can and will emotionally scar you. Getting involved with Jules is supposed to be traumatic. There is a reason why mc starts the story at such a low point. You can romance the very much alive ros and if none of them appeal to you then maybe— the romance in this story is not you. :<

12. I don't like [this] OR [this] is problematic.

I would like for you to consider if it is a personal preference or an issue in the writing. Some things are problematic on purpose. Especially, if you're romancing certain ros. :<

13. Regarding MC's disposition towards certain characters.

As it is evident from the intro post, the MC has a set view of some characters. That can, however, change from Episode One. You don't have to worry about this.

14. Are there any love triangles?

1. MC, Jules and Dylan.

2. Not revealing the characters involved because that would be spoilers. :)

15. Are there any Poly routes?

No, sorry. Most ros have beef with each other. Also, too many variables. This is my first time writing interactive fiction and I don't want to get too ambitious or overestimate myself. Maybe I'll give it a try in the future. I hope that's okay.

16. Do the ros experience jealousy? Can the MC get jealous?

Yes and yes.

17. Are there any explicit scenes?

Yes. At least one for every RO.

18. ROs sexuality?

They are all playersexual.

Stats.

1. Sanity.

Some present time choices— general and some specific ones regarding Jules— will affect mc's sanity. They will notice things most don't. They may begin to act out of the player's control. Character interactions and dynamics will drastically shift. So will the MC's inner monologue.

2. Major Stats.

Earlier, I had planned for the MC's strengths and weaknesses to be based on their major but I realised doing that would be stupid and make no real sense. Hence, I have decided to scratch off that idea. I am going for persuasion, athleticism, intellect instead. Maybe I'll add more as the story progresses.

You shouldn't have to worry too much about stat checks since the story is more choices & relationship focused.

3. Roll the dice mechanism.

Now, just because you're good at something doesn't mean you have achieved perfection and will always succeed no matter what. Similarly, just because you're not the best at something doesn't mean you won't be able to succeed. A little luck goes a long way.

This one is huge maybe though. :))

[this feature can be turned on/off during the beginning and the stats screen!]

4. Personality stats.

Anxious/Assured

Impulsive/Methodical

Outspoken/Reserved

Honest/Deceptive

They will mostly be used for flavour text only.

The MC.

1. Character customisation.

DLGOY covers the basics but I am open for suggestions. I like more customisation only if it comes up again in the story.

2. Unreliabe narrator.

What the title clearly suggests.

Story structure.

The story will switch between two timelines. The past and the present. The former focuses on MC's childhood and relationship with Jules.

General.

1. Why has my ask not been answered yet?

I am getting to it! I tend to edit them a lot, so it may take some time. Please be patient. <3

[I don't answer more than 4-5 asks a day because I want to avoid spamming]

2. Where to submit bug reports?

Send an ask!

3. Feedback?

I am open to suggestions and criticism as long as it is polite. I listen to them all but I don't promise to implement everything!

4. Is this a standalone or a series?

Standalone!

[carolmunson]

you keep me without chains | em.

this is a re-post of a ramble fic of me processing some stuff i've been through and am struggling with in my own healing. if you're familiar with my 'bad at feelings' series, it's in a similar vein of writing except eddie is incredibly soft and sweet to reader who is going through her own stuff. eddie sucks here, i don't think it's a correct characterization of him but it's just me using him as a placeholder.

originally, i didn't want to put this story in the tags because it's sad and explores the mindset of someone in a non-physically abusive relationship. however, since it is DV awareness month, i wanted to make sure to express that if there are people reading this who are struggling that they aren't alone and there are people there that understand and support them. and also that if there are younger readers reading (still eighteen plus!) who aren't sure if they are in an abusive relationship they are maybe able to get some context via fiction. my inbox is always open. DV Hotline US: 800-799-7233 DV Hotline UK: 0808 2000 247 tw: 18+ mindors dni, references to emotional and psychological abuse, minor threats of physical violence.

he left this morning with a kiss on your cheek and your lips, a nuzzle against your temple when you gave him two thermos's, one with hot black coffee and the other with the beef stew you made last night. hot hot hot. the way he likes it.

you made bread, so crisp on the outside, pillowy soft on the inside. he groaned when he popped it in his mouth at the dinner table, soaked in broth and butter. you warmed some in the oven when you put his lunch together, wrapping it in foil to trap the heat -- maybe it'll keep until his lunch hour. he might eat it all before his lunch hour. he never eats breakfast really.

you clean the counters and do the laundry while he's away. no kids to take care of, not yet at least. you mend his spare coveralls, treating the grease and oils stains, resewing his name tag stiched in red thread. you shine your mary janes and stilettos, shine his doc's just to be nice. you fix his patches on his vest from the last show he went to. you clean the stubble out of the sink in the bathroom.

he has the car so there's nowhere to go.

you shower, you do your hair, put make up on, go through the motions while he's not home. he hates to wait for you to do it but you hate looking tired when you're out and about. better to do it when he's busy doing something else.

next door neighbor is heading to the library, knocks on your door to see if you wanna come with. she just wants you to get out of the house for once, stop playing wife to a man who hasn't married you yet.

you hesistate, wanting to be home in time to make dinner, but you can't imagine the library taking too long so you go. she looks at you with a strained pity that you can't stand. he doesn't hit you, so why does she even look at you like that? he'd never do that. he just got back from all that shit with a few screws loose. he never knows what he means when he says it.

he's always sorry. y'know? he's always sorry. sorta.

doesn't hit you but you know how the day will go by the way he says good morning. by the way he wakes up with you -- or without you. know how the night will go by the way he breathes when he comes in through the storm door. by the cadence of his steps on the metal stairs. by the way the van pulls in.

sometimes things break and that's fine cause he just replaces them. he knows he shouldn't have thrown it, he knows he shouldn't have tossed it, he knows. he knows. that's why he gets it the very next day. new plates, new house phone, new coffee pot, new records, new casettes, new picture frames, new flower pots. he doesn't throw them at you. he's only punched the wall twice. he slams his head against it all the time. cause he knows he's not good. he knows. you go to the library and check out some books, laugh at your neighbors jokes, tell her about your weekend in the city visiting his friends. he held your hand in front of everyone and pulled you onto his lap, he joked with you and you laughed the whole time. you went to see a band play that you'd never heard of and he got you a t-shirt and the next morning you all went out for hot chocolate and breakfast and he kissed the whipped cream off your lips and ran his thumb over your engagement ring over and over. he never stopped calling you baby. so charming. so perfect. you don't know what you did to earn it, but you've been chasing it ever since. modeling that week's behavior into this one. tip toes through the tulips of the trailer. jagged. shell like.

you get home from the library and lunch, she even stops with you when you mention you have to go to the grocery store. out of eggs for meatloaf, needed some canned string beans for one of the sides.

it's the best dinner you've made in a while and the mashed potatoes are double whipped and extra buttery because he can never get enough of them. you know that it's little things like that. you love the smile he gets when you tell him you do some things just for him, so blushy and boyish.

'that's so nice, baby,' he gushes, 'thinkin'a me.' and god he gushes. cries when he can't contain it. saw you in a new dress and wiped his eyes. new hair cut sent him into orbit.

so pretty.

you're so beautiful, i don't deserve you.

you're gorgeous i -- i can't even like, think.

presents on your birthday. handwritten notes with tear drops washing over the ink in a wave, blurry letters blue and black, black and blue. he'd never hit you. too in love. too bursting with affection when he looks at you. too nervous when you look at him when he takes you out. when he plays a show. when he sees you get dressed into your pjs at night. you're so good to me. especially when you hold him through those nightmares. when you calm his anxiety, those deep breath panic attacks. the ones that the meds miss when he misses them. you're patient through the mood swings and he always says thank you. he always says it -- you're the only one that understands him. that sees him. sometimes you don't get it. that's what he says at least. you don't get it and that makes him upset. but you're not sure what there is to get. and you try not to get sad about it -- 'bout anything really 'cause you're not the one who got a few screws knocked loose. nothing bad like that happened to you. i mean, sure, maybe some bad things happened to you but not like the way bad things happened to him, right? you wouldn't get it. but he gets you, he tells you all the time. he gets you so well. symbiotic. the only person who knows you, the only person whose been in your skin -- right? at least that's what he says, and he's said it so long you can't help but believe it.

your eyes fall on the newly vased roses he bought you two days ago from the florist near the shop. bright red petals opened and fat, contrasting against the pea green of the walls. you smile at them while you pour gravy over each plate, extra on his mashed potatoes. he kissed you this morning, he was almost late leaving the house -- couldn't stop kissing you. couldn't stop looking at you with those brown eyes, sparkling with a mischief saved for tonight.

the van rolls in as you set the table, still in your outfit from earlier, the books you checked out on the counter need the flowers. the storm door opens off kilter, your throat constricts. you know by the way he doesn't say anything when he comes in the house. work boots kicked off with loud thumps. his jacket swishing with a thwap when he throws it with a grunt to the ground. something bad must've happened at work. 'hey honey,' you say quietly, 'got dinner for you.'

you know better, watching him turn the corner into the dinette, looking down at you from where he stands and you sit. you hold a mug full of orange juice on the table, fingers tapping on it silently while he holds his gaze. 'you goin' somewhere, dressed up like that?' he asks, there's nothing behind those sparkling eyes now. dulled out to hollow brown.

'no,' you shrug, you know how to coreograph your responses now -- still stepping on his toes sometimes, 'went to the library with gina, she just wanted a friend for some errands.'

'you know gina doesn't like me,' he nods, walking to the fridge to grab a beer, 'she doesn't like us together. she hates me.'

'she doesn't hate you, ed,' you assure, voice still calm, mediating, 'no one hates you.'

'your folks hate me, your sister hates me,' he nods, curls bouncing while he takes a swig, like it's normal conversation. so steady, 'you think they like that i got you ever here in this trailer park?'

'my parents don't ha--'

'they do.' and that's final. you don't argue. and he's right. your parents don't like him and that's why you don't call anymore, and they stopped calling you too. so did all your friends from back home.

'so what'd gina tell you about me today, then?' he presses.

'nothin'," you shrug, 'we didn't talk about you.'

'of course not,' he laughs but it's one that sends a chill under your skin, a laugh to not seem so mean when you know he's about to be, 'she was prob'ly tryna set you up with someone. that's why you got all dressed up right? anything to look good for other guys out there.'

's'cuse me?' 'you heard me,' he nods, voice still steady like nothing's wrong, 'that's why you wore all those tight jeans in the city last weekend, right? those dresses? tryna show off to harrington and the guys. don't act like i didn't notice.'

'what are you talking about? why didn't you say anything when we were there?' you heart rate quickens, you try not to get mad.

'i shouldn't have to. but that's how you are, y'know?' he shrugs, another swig, another chuckle, 'makin' dinner and everything, you must've been out there makin' eyes at everyone if you made my favorite.'

'i wasn't doing that,' you urge, voice raising, tears threatening to pool, 'i just made it cause you like it, cause it makes you happy.'

'so you just do anything to make sure i don't get mad? do you even know why you do stuff like this for me?' he asks.

'what are you even saying?' your voice raises again, a mild yell. you're frazzled now, heart racing, head already scrambled.

'don't yell, what're you -- fuck babe, see! this is why gina doesn't like me,' he grits through his teeth, 'cause you're always making a scene over nothing. you're over fuckin' reacting.'

'i --' your voice catches in your throat, quieting, 'i'm sorry? i'm sorry.'

'd'you even know what you're sorry for?' he nearly sneers, 'always sayin' your sorry over nothing. y'know somethin' babe, sorry loses it's meaning when you're sayin' it all the time. it doesn't mean anything from you anymore.'

you nod, losing your resilience, too confused about how quickly you got here -- and he's right. you're always apologizing but half the time you don't even know what you're apologizing for. just that you feel like you need to be sorry. like you need to say sorry.

he holds that stare on you like he's waiting for you to speak again. daring you to say something. you stare down at the wood grain of the table, blank and empty -- numb, even. the mug between your hands is warm from how hard you were gripping the ceramic to keep you grounded.

's'what i thought,' he nods, voice a low rumble while he makes his way to the bathroom.

he'd never hit you.

the slam of the bathroom door makes you flinch.

sometimes you wish he would. maybe it would hurt less than this. at least that physical pain fades, right? at least it wasn't the same dull ache on a bruise that won't go away. are you hemmorhaging? do you just not feel it yet? will it be too late when you do?

he slides into bed with you at night after spending the rest of the evening out back with the other couples and families that were smoking ribs, having a little fire out in the brush. he smells like cigarettes. you could hear his grizzly laugh through the windows while you laid in the dark of your bedroom. too tired after the way he spoke to you to do anything else. everyone's favorite mechanic loverboy in the park.

you feel his fingertips on your shoulder, one of them gliding down the slope of your arm. he presses his lips to your shoulder blade, your eyes shut -- blearing with tears from that dull ache.

'dinner was really good, baby,' he says softly, a whisper.

you try to get out a thank you but it becomes a choke, a sniffle, a gasp. then a cry and then a harder one, remembering how he rolled his eyes at you two weeks ago when you cried after he threw out the love letter you wrote him for your four year anniversary because 'you didn't mean any of that shit anyway'.

he sits up, shushing you softly while his hand smooths over your bicep.

'what is it, sweetheart?' he asks, 'are you mad at me?'

you shake your head no. looking up at him, lying flat on your back. he looks so handsome in the moonlight, concerned eyes and tilted head peering down at you. 'n-no, ed. m'not mad at y-you,' you push out, head still scrambled. you feel guilty about last weekend, about going out today. what if guys really were looking? you know you weren't looking at them but what if they got the wrong idea? gina doesn't know what she's talking about, she's always hated ed. ever since they were kids.

'you just havin' one of your moments?' he asks, soothing voice, 'yeah?' one of your moments. always just one of your moments. couldn't be him, you're just -- maybe you're over thinking it.

'yeah,' you nod, 'm'sorry i went out with gina, baby i -- she didn't say anything bad about you.'

'it's okay,' he smiles, 'm'not mad at you. never mad at my girl.'

'no?' you ask, swallowing hard -- your heart leaps. he's not mad. maybe he just had a rough day.

'no doll, m'never mad at you. you always think i'm mad at you,' he says, thumb brushing away the tears that threatened to roll down the sides of your face to your hair line, 'you need me to kiss it better?'

another sob rips through you, nodding, because you do. you need it. and you sort of hate that you need it. you hate yourself for needing it. but he kisses you and it does feel better. he knows how to kiss you just right, he always has. he knows just where to put his hands. just how to pull away and brush his nose against yours. how to kiss your forehead between affirmations. smooth and understanding, like a movie scene. his kisses are his apologies. his sorry. you accept it every time.

because he doesn't hit you and he never would. in the morning, when the bathroom door slams so hard the walls vibrate, you flinch.

[theheirofthesharingan]

Okay, sorry if this was asked before but I'm curious and I'd really like to learn more. You've mentioned in a couple of posts now that Itachi wasn't retconned. Could you please elaborate further?

Hey! No, this wasn't asked before. I was thinking of making a separate post for this, but procrastination is evil. So, I am one of the 'Itachi was meant to be a good guy/was not evil/had more to him than he let on' people. Watching the anime, it was the feeling that there was more to him. His reveal was along the lines of devastation and shocking for me than surprise. Detailed post is below the cut.

First thing first.

This was Itachi's first look that Kishimoto had planned.

Itachi was originally conceived as the leader of Konoha's Special Assassination and Tactical Squad called the "Anbu", dubbed the Itachi Squad (イタチ隊, Itachi-tai), which would have been a 70-man group divided into four teams, specializing in assassination and other illicit operations. However, this idea was scrapped in favour of the current Itachi working for the Akatsuki.

The above paragraph is from Itachi's wikipedia that cites a couple of interviews as sources. People can't be too blind in their delusion to think the author who wrote the story had no idea what he was writing.

Next is the Naruto Databook that has some fishy things if we look closely. In the first glance it's not very obvious, but after learning the truth it seems very much obvious.

It says, "the ones who know the reason of its downfall are very small". Go back to Obito's words about only four people being aware of the reason of the clan's downfall.

Additionally, Itachi carried out 134 B-Rank missions. Zero A Rank. And one S-Rank. The S rank mission being the Uchiha massacre. It's very fishy that he was given one s rank mission without any A tank mission. Suspicious? We know later on why.

It's also interesting because the first databook was published in 2002 and Itachi first appeared in 2003. If his twist wasn't planned from the beginning this databook is very telling.

Since I mentioned how he looked, here's him in Sasuke's flashbacks for the first time.

He looks far from evil or sadistic. You want to know who enjoys killing for fun? Hidan. Itachi, on the other hand, on the day of the massacre itself, looks miserable and lost.

In chapter 7, he in a haze-like manner he talks about crying. In many English translations it's translated as 'he made me cry' and in many it's this. It's very, very vague, but his statement is complimented by Sakura's question, to which he still responds in the similar way 'My..' Maybe he was trying to say 'My brother', but he instead finishes his speech with 'my goal is to take revenge' etc., Since it's still very early so it might not be the strongest evidence, but a few chapters later in chapter 27, during their fight against Haku, when Sasuke awakens his Sharingan, he has two tomoe in his right eye.

Yes, he might have awakened it this way, but it also suggests that maybe already had his Sharingan and that's why this is 'asymmetrical' awakening? In the later chapters we find out he actually did have his Sharingan he awakened after the massacre.

This flashbacks in chapter 127 most firmly establishes Itachi's twist. The tilted head-protector. Sasuke remembers it vaguely, but he has no recollection of Itachi crying that night, because his mind is still hazy from the "truth" Itachi wanted him to believe. We know later on the significance of this scene.

There are three moments before Itachi was even introduced that give away what we see right after his truth reveal and connect to the chapter 403.

The 'Itachi was retconned' camp also uses 'Itachi was meant to be older (than 13) but Kishi made him younger later on' as an excuse to justify their retcon bullshit.

Kakashi, in chapter 142, states Itachi was 13 when he was made the Anbu captain.

Itachi graduated when he was just seven. Sasuke is the same age as Itachi was when he graduated from the Academy. Itachi is 17 at the time of his first appearance and Sasuke is 12. It is enough to tell lies were spread about Itachi. We, obviously, learn later on why.

Some more obvious hints were his interaction with Asuma, Kurenai, and Kakashi.

The criminal infamous for annihilating one of the strongest clans refuses to indulge in fight?

He also asks Kisame to keep things low key and not get too much attention. That's an excuse. He's not here to wage war. Yes, later on he does ask Kisame to go ahead. But that's because he's a spy. He cannot let Danzo know he dropped his guard. One single mistake from his side that could unearth the truth of the massacre and Danzo would lay hands on Sasuke. Plus, while he's strong, his opponents aren't just fragile saplings who couldn't stand any blow he or Kisame cast. He knew reinforcements would be on the way.

Kakashi also wonders why Itachi didn't just kill him. Again, yes, the torture was brutal, but they're ninja who are meant to do and endure cruel things. Itachi had to look like he was a menacing criminal reputed to have killed the Uchiha singlehandedly.

So, he completely avoids fighting Asuma and Kuernai, takes on only Kakashi because he's strong and can take it, also has Sharingan. But he completely refuses to go against Jiraiya. Jiraiya may or may not be stronger than him. Maybe they were equal. However, recalling Obito's words again: Itachi devoted himself to fighting Sasuke to death.

Two conclusions come from this:

He didn't want to fight Jiraiya because it would result in a massive bloodbath and killing a leaf Shinobi is out of question for him. He's not a coward. He just doesn't want to fight him.

As we know from later on, he wanted to fight and die at Sasuke's hands only. Killing a Konoha Shinobi or dying at the hands of someone that isn't Sasuke isn't a part of his plan.

This can also be tracked further when Kisame captures the Four Tails.

Kisame most likely knew about Itachi's illness, knew Itachi wanted to die at Sasuke's hands. The reason Itachi didn't fight Jiraiya and Rōshi was most likely the same.

Kisame comments on Itachi's 'lingering affection' towards the village. The Akatsuki pairings' dynamics are quite opposite. Deidara and Sasori love art but have differing opinions on eternal vs explosive. Hidan and Kakuzu represent religion vs materialism (money). And Itachi and Kisame represent treachery vs loyalty. Itachi isn't loyal to Akatsuki, Kisame is.

They also wonder why is Itachi taking the matter of kidnapping Naruto so lightly. He could have done it very easily. We know now that that wasn't his intent and his objective to visit the village was something else.

As popular as 'Itachi knocked on the door before kidnapping Naruto' meme is, the truth is, he wasn't there to kidnap him at all. Replace Itachi with Kisame alone for a moment. Knock on the door? No, sir. Naruto would be half-dead. Or replace him with Hidan and Kakuzu. They're sadistic bastards and would have damaged Naruto in the worst possible way.

Furthermore, when you think of it, he revealed 'Akatsuki are after jinchuriki' years prior to the Akatsuki even began collecting the tailed beasts. It was a message he left because it was important. His job in the Akatsuki wasn't to "pass on the info to the village." It was to keep tabs on them so they don't attack Konoha.

After the massacre, Sasuke's unwavering faith in Itachi despite being put in Tsukuyomi. At first it doesn't seem too much, but we later discover that Itachi used to be a kind and gentle boy. So this bit isn't just Sasuke is blind, but also that Itachi was a kind child before the tragedy happened.

Sasuke's flashbacks in chapter 220 also hint towards Itachi being trapped in the politics of the village/clan. Fugaku is speaking to his own son but the discussion is so intense that he has to activate his Sharingan to convey the message to Itachi.

These are the flashbacks from the chapter #221 that further shed light on Itachi being a spy.

He's the "pipeline between the clan and the village" - a spy. Later Obito says Itachi was callously used for his devotion towards the village, this is an example of his clan doing this to him.

This is Itachi right after being accused of Shisui's murder. He looks in grief, while also processing the news. Once the narrative delves deep into Itachi's story (through Sasuke's eyes) in VOTE1, he continues to look miserable, lost, in pain, and in dire need of help. And once we begin to see more of him before his death, he is quite human. But again, Kishimoto had his whole story figured out by that time, knew what he was to do with Itachi's arc and Sasuke's future there.

In the chapter 224 (during the battle between Sasuke and Naruto), the flashback goes to this moment: Itachi tells Sasuke that he'd be one of the three people to awaken Mangekyo.

This connects to the chapter 385 when Sasuke vs Itachi happens. Sasuke asks him about the third person who had the MS.

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Kishimoto isn't a terrible writer because some people choose to ignore what's written right there or cannot accept happened. Usually the deniers of this are those who question his morality. His morality is never the subject of the debate because Itachi isn't exonerated for his crimes. He's a part of a world that's cruel and violent and his actions align with it very much. The ones who "praise" him have their own bias, and that gives him nothing in return. Characters in fiction always, I mean, always respond to the information based on their morality. When Hashirama praises Itachi, it's because he grew up in the warring era and lost all his family. He learns there's this kid who chose a path with the least damage but at the cost of his life, he's a good Shinobi. Hiruzen also has his bias as well as his guilt. Naruto's praise for Itachi is not only because of stopping a war, but also for loving Sasuke. No one other than Sasuke sees him as a person whether anyone likes him or hates him. He's praised by other Shinobi for doing things that are expected from a Shinobi.

Either way, at the end of the day, Itachi himself doesn't see himself who is worth forgiving, worth loving, worth being remembered. That's his whole arc.

Some things above in the post I took from this thread. Some information I ommited from it, so feel free to go through it, please.

[accio-victuuri]

an analysis : Xiao Zhan + The Moon & Sixpence 🌖

as usual with xzs videos like the one just released, you can make an entire thesis into the possible meanings of every chapter and frame. add it’s relation to xz and if you’re a pro, go deep into the techniques they used in shooting and editing. this one tho is centered around the theme of “the moon and sixpence” which is a book xz recommended before. I saw a few articles linking this to the elements on the vlog and so i looked into it.

i have lightly talked about some elements from the vlog yesterday but focused more on the quotes that appeared and the music chosen.

it’s been years since he mentioned this book and he didn’t even say that it’s his all-time-favorite. for example, the van gogh elements, we expect that already to be a recurring theme. as well as the moon, but this one has another connection to it. i am honestly curious where his headspace is at, and why, in this specific point in time he felt so close to the message of that book or some parts of it.

let me start with a synopsis and the book is available on googlebooks if you wanna try it out like i did. 🔖

with the plot alone, you can get a sense of why he would like it. at the time he read it, he was not yet the superstar xiao zhan that we know now. and this is why i guess he related to it more now. especially the sacrifices he has to make for the path he has chosen. this was evident in his GQ cover story interview where he compares himself to his other friends and how they have normal lives. the books is written in the first person POV of narrator who is looking into the stockbroker turned artist Charles Strickland. you get to see the thoughts of the narrator and how he views the main character of his story. the way i see it, the narrator is “Xiao Zhan the person” and how he sees “Xiao Zhan the public personality”. this concept of two sides to him was opened up in his esquire cover story and i can’t help but think it relates to this story.

i will be heavily quoting passages from the book that attracted me and i personally thought relates to xz. this is my personal interpretation only.

The greatness of Charles Strickland was authentic. It may be that you do not like his art, but at all events you can hardly refuse it the tribute of your interest. He disturbs and arrests.

the story starts of with this line and well isn’t this one way to describe xiao zhan? he has always been described as authentic and the “real deal” as far as idols and actors go. not many people are expected to like him or be part of his fan club and chase him — however, one thing is clear: he disturbs and arrests. his popularity is something that is unheard of and many artist and companies try to replicate. he is a disturbance to the norm in c-ent and why he is a constant target. it’s his biggest asset and liability. something like MFW and stepping out of his home is also expected to attract all kinds of attention. He is aware of that.

“His faults are accepted as the necessary complement to his merits. It is still possible to discuss his place in art, and the adulation of his admirers is perhaps no less capricious than the disparagement of his detractors; but one thing can never be doubtful, and that is that he had genius. To my mind the most interesting thing in art is the personality of the artist; and if that is singular, I am willing to excuse a thousand faults.”

this is in the POV of the narrator, describing the artist he is writing a book about, Charles Strickland. the message of this quote is similar to the one i mentioned above. xz is not perfect and people, specifically his fans should accept that. it’s what makes him more real. through his wins and losses, he is still xiao zhan.

“It is a salutary discipline to consider the vast number of books that are written, the fair hopes with which their authors see them published, and the fate which awaits them. What chance is there that any book will make its way among that multitude? And the successful books are but the successes of a season. Heaven knows what pains the author has been at, what bitter experiences he has endured and what heartache suffered, to give some chance reader a few hours’ relaxation or to while away the tedium of a journey. And if I may judge from the reviews, many of these books are well and carefully written; much thought has gone to their composition; to some even has been given the anxious labour of a lifetime. The moral I draw is that the writer should seek his reward in the pleasure of his work and in release from the burden of his thoughts; and, indifferent to aught else, care nothing for praise or censure, failure or success.”

this next passage makes me think of the projects he has done and what it must feel like for him. there are a lot of dramas/movies that come out every year and what we repeatedly hear from xz is that he only wishes to bring good works. something people will enjoy and appreciate— never mind the popularity that comes with it. he just finished filming a big project LOCH which i can only imagine is so stressful to him. and now is working on another historical drama.

he is someone who immerses himself in the character and once it’s done, it must be a huge weight off his shoulder. like what is said — seek reward in the pleasure of work and in release from the burden of his thoughts.

“Then, what in God’s name have you left her for?’

‘I want to paint.’

I looked at him for quite a long time. I did not understand. I thought he was mad. It must be remembered that I was very young, and I looked upon him as a middle-aged man. I forgot everything but my own amazement.

‘But you’re forty.’

‘That’s what made me think it was high time to begin.’

i think this one is pretty self explanatory, how he started in the entertainment circle a little bit later in his life. compared to his peers. but the answer was simple to him as it was with Strickland, in his case, “i want to sing.”

‘I tell you I’ve got to paint. I can’t help myself. When a man falls into the water it doesn’t matter how he swims, well or badly: he’s got to get out or else he’ll drown.”

this message seems similar to the one quoted on the vlog about about the rivers and small streams. in this one, it emphasizes how one should not be afraid to take the small step of “swimming badly” in hopes that someday they will wade the waters more efficiently.

“But here was a man who sincerely did not mind what people thought of him, and so convention had no hold on him; he was like a wrestler whose body is oiled; you could not get a grip on him”

If there was something in this book the describes XZ so perfectly — it is this one. I think he is not devoid of over thinking about what people say or being a people pleaser. but in recent times, i am seeing a change in him and how he is more calm. a freedom in the way he speaks, the truths he is no longer holding back. he is not afraid to be different anymore.

which led to that GUCCI outfit. LOL! 🤣🤣🤣

‘Look here, if everyone acted like you, the world couldn’t go on.’

‘That’s a damned silly thing to say. Everyone doesn’t want to act like me. The great majority are perfectly content to do the ordinary thing.”

so true. a great majority wouldn’t and couldn’t do what he does. just looking at the chapters in the vlog, from going to a distant place and dealing with the MGW chaos. after that, being only afforded a small time to decompress and sit. to enjoy the sunset. that’s what his life is.

“I don’t pretend to be a great painter’, he said. ‘I’m not a Michael Angelo, no, but I have something. I sell. I bring romance into the homes of all sorts of people. Do you know, they buy my pictures not only in Holland, but in Norway and Sweden and Denmark? It’s mostly merchants who buy them, and rich tradesmen. You can’t imagine what the winters are like in those countries, so long and dark and cold. They like to think that Italy is like my pictures. That’s what they expect. That’s what I expected Italy to be before I came here.”

i would guess this is how he sees his work. he never claimed to be the best, you can see that with how he always mentions wanting to be better. he wants to give the people a positive view of life. which i can clearly see from the vlogs even, makes you wanna go where he visited.

“A man’s work reveals him. In social intercourse he gives you the surface that he wishes the world to accept, and you can only gain a true knowledge of him by inferences from little actions, of which he is unconscious, and from fleeting expressions, which cross his face unknown to him. Sometimes people carry to such perfection the mask they have assumed that in due course they actually become the person they seem.”

another one that i think describes xz. his little actions that we see reveal his true self —- the gentle, funny and dorky xiao zhan which is a contrast to the character he sometimes has to portray. it’s when we talk about his duality, the way he was posing and “game face on” for GUCCI but when he did the interview you can see the dorky xiao zhan 😂

there are times that xiao zhan merges some of the qualities of his celebrity side and i think it’s perfectly person. it is a huge part of his life, and the way i see it, his experiences only make him a better person.

“I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not. They are strangers in their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood or the populous streets in which they have played, remain but a place of passage.

They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever known.

Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves. Perhaps some deep-rooted atavism urges the wanderer back to lands which his ancestors left in the dim beginnings of history.

Sometimes a man hits upon a place to which he mysteriously feels that he belongs.

Here is the home he sought, and he will settle amid scenes that he has never seen before, among men he has never known, as though they were familiar to him from his birth.

Here at last he finds rest.”

read that again. it’s a lovely way to put into words what i imagine is something that not only xz goes through. we know what kind of environment and country he lives in, i’m not trying to get political but you get the point. being a celebrity or public personality like him is vastly different from how it is with the rest of the world. i have always admired how he handles it all with grace, how he he willingly accepts the responsibility and burden of being who he is. and that’s why i was also surprised by his answer when asked about a parallel world and he answers about a superpower where he can make it possible to have no disputes in the world. being in that place, with lots of people around, from different parts of the world probably made him think more about this topic. aside from eating pizza and being his usual beautiful self, he was thinking about some serious issues too.

chapter 1 was about going to a distant place but not really, there was something in that place and experience that feels like a home he longs for.

alternate explanation, this can also mean him living his life as a graphic designer, and then spreading his wings into a different industry — being the place he has sought. but considering the time this was released and where he is now at life, i’m thinking it’s more of the former.

so busy yearning for the moon that he never saw the sixpence at his feet. 🪙

this imagery at the end of the vlog + the coin he holds + the quote fits so well together. the way i see it, XZ is doing both. he appreciates the moon, he looks up to it but he doesn’t miss to see and hold the sixpence. it’s why he is holding on to it, in some, it was even rolling on it’s own towards him. and it’s not just the proverbial sixpence. he is seeing and appreciating his surroundings —- the egg he ate, laundry, bike etc.

as a fan, this is actually comforting to me. the book itself is not the happiest, which makes sense cause xz prefers melodramatic to downright tragic stories. but it shows a realistic view of what some goes through to pursue their dreams. it’s not as glamorous as what we see on tv or the internet. but the end of the vlog, shows that xz is keeping a balance. he is not just busy looking up at the moon— he is also living his life.

-END.

I first knew about the connection of the vlog to the book via 辉夜姬不叽 and i got hooked into writing something about it and reading the source material. i also liked @resonancewitness interpretation of the vlog, particularly the lines in starry starry night.

[ingravinoveritas]

(Note that @angelsadvocate96 also included a screenshot of AL's post, which I am omitting here since we have two already.)

I did see this Insta story yesterday, and again...wow. Before I go any further, I want to be clear that my issue with this has nothing to do with it being "inappropriate" (depending on your definition, of course). I am by no means a prude, and it is not and should not be shocking that Michael and AL have had sex. We know this, and we have proof of this, so that is not a big thing. I do, however, think it is interesting that just a few days ago, we had Michael being David's "boyfriend" and now here's AL seemingly marking her territory again. So that makes me wonder what has suddenly changed.

Also, as angelsadvocate96 mentioned, this does indeed seem to be a Georgia-style brag...but it falls flat. It doesn't help that "sleep next to" is just a really weird turn of phrase, and could as easily mean AL and Michael's beds are next to each other (a la every 1950s TV sitcom) as it does that they're sleeping in the same bed. It also stops short of being overtly sexual (because she didn't say "sleep with"), and so ends up in that weird place of trying to be scandalous, yet also not. But when you have Georgia out here five years ago talking about how much she and David enjoy anal sex and possibly her pegging him, Anna's "innuendos" just seem completely tepid in comparison.

The other thing that stood out to me is the mention of Ian McKellen, the #lifegoals hashtag, and Anna seemingly bragging about the fact that one of the most important parts of her relationship with Michael is meeting celebrities. We knew this already from the Dolittle premiere and the now-infamous picture of her meeting Rami Malek, as well as the fact that she follows many of Michael's co-stars and other famous figures connected to him on social media, and has had a history of replying primarily to comments from those people, to the exclusion of most everyone else. But I'm genuinely confused as to why you would ever want to give that impression of your relationship, especially on a post that's supposed to be promoting a TV appearance of his.

Her post also made me wonder how aware Anna really is of Sir Ian or his work, as I wasn't sure I could see her being a big fan of his...until I realized she shared this post from her and Michael's PR person (@dobbscld). The OP mentioned Sir Ian specifically, and knowing that, it suddenly all made sense. But it also struck me that, rather than make a post or story of her own to promote Michael, AL shared a post from PR...and once again made a post about Michael into a post about herself. Just as we've seen before.

Honestly, I don't think I would even mind this post or similar posts AL has made that much if it felt like Michael was even remotely a part of it. But it's the very fact that he never talks about her or their relationship (and not in a "he's a private person" kind of way) that makes it so awkward. And here he was going on Graham Norton to promote his directorial debut--a project that is hugely important to him--and Anna just brings it down to the most base level, making it seem like she does not take Michael or his work seriously. And I can't think of anything more embarrassing than that.

So yes, that was my reaction to AL's Insta story yesterday. Again, this is just my perspective, and I'm glad to hear from folks in the comments on this post with their thoughts. Thanks for writing in! x

[yermes]

Advice for setting clear boundaries at work and how to say no in a work setting 🌙

In a world that is so hard the biggest act of rebellion is to be violently gentle

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Pick a meme

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Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

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Socials: TipJar | Follow me!

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The cards

Full moon in virgo 🌈

Don’t worry about work. Worrying only means you suffer twice and as a very open person you are very sensitive to the shitty vibes of the work place. Do not second guess but also do not strong arm. You work for minimum wage, you are allowed to act like it. People may pressure you into going above and beyond but do not go above your pay grade. Do not burn yourself out. Do not be a dick to yourself or others.

New moon in cancer 🦀

You don’t have to be so un-relatable. You put up walls to protect yourself you isolated yourself. There are people who want to make work more livable and more enjoyable with you and as long as you have clear boundaries you should maybe keep a few people close. Put your family first, most of all. And go over your goals and understand why you work in the first place and set up little fun goals to make work more enjoyable, but be emotionally aware of how your coworkers affect you emotionally.

New moon in Aquarius 🏺

Talk to your coworkers, are you mad about how much you get paid? Talk to coworkers. Feel unsupported by upper staff. Talk to coworkers. More often than not they feel a similar way to you and gaining connections and getting a conversation going to understand the failings of the work place will be huge. Good team bonding too. However, whatever is bringing you stress at work. Detach from the situation, think outside the box and think about the work community as a whole

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Extras:

Story/vent:

New decks monday, rituals Tuesday, school Wednesday

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[wintersettled]

Honestly the way different archons in genshin impact have such different interactions with their nation is very interesting to me, especially with how its further expanded in fontaine recently.

The archons who are closest to the way we traditionally (in the west) think of a god (ie. all-powerful and on a completely other level of existence to humans) would probably be Barbatos first, then Rex Lapis.

Barbatos/Venti having churches dedicated to him and not appearing (as far as most are aware) in society for centuries is very similar to how the christian god is seen, as someone worshipped but never directly interacted with on a level beyond the spiritual. Meanwhile Rex Lapis/Zhongli has tons of myths and stories dedicated to him across lands and made appearances for years until his "death". In this way he's somewhat comparable to Greek gods (or even Jesus, to keep the christianity analogy going). He's far more openly entrenched in humanity but still remains separate and "above".

It's more-so with the three other archons we've encountered that our understanding of what gods must be like in teyvat based on Rex Lapis and Barbatos is totally altered with Ei, Furina, and Buer, all three being the "replacement" archon for their respective nations.

Ei, the third archon we meet, takes a direct role in Inazuman government as the Shogun, a totally different approach than the previous two which i find more similar to various rulers claiming divine right of kings. Also, despite not being the original electro archon most dont actually know this because Ei took on the identity of her sister, who died during the calamity. I think Ei taking on her sisters identity definitely helped her maintain her "divine authority" where other archons (buer) failed to maintain it in their nations.

Speaking of Buer/Nahida, you'd think the whole changing the past to everyone except descenders thing would complicate our interpretation of her but it doesnt at all. I think the reason for this is that destroying the previous archon in irmunsul didnt actually change the past. I also dont think the wanderer/scaramouche actually changed the past. I think they just changed peoples memories of it. but anyway. Nahida also takes on a governmental role at the end of sumerus archon quests while still remaining a somewhat holy figure. She was obviously shut out/disregarded following the passing of the previous dendro archon, unlike Ei she wasn't able to maintain her authority. After the archon quest however, her position in government kind of reminds me of the queen of england early in her rule. There was still a democratic governing body in the prime minister and other representatives but she maintains power.

Furina/Focalors also reminds me of the queen of england but at the end of her career instead. Furina appears to be more of a mascot in fontaine than a proper ruling body. It actually seems that the machine and neuvillette hold more authority that she does. Obviously we havent really explored fontaine much yet (its only been out a few days but im loving it) and we've only gotten so much info from the archon quests but as far as i can tell, furina appears to be kind of scrambling to live up to the previous hydro archon who was seemingly so well liked that fontaines people are repenting to this day. (as am i misremembering or did they say the previous archon didnt side with celestia but her people did?? what!?). Its even actively pointed out how people in fontaine do not view their archon to even a similar level as people in other nations (i mean their archon does meet and greets and is very reckless with her accusations but-).

anyways 👍 yes.

TLDR: zhongli + venti = traditional gods ei + nahida (now) = government furina + nahida = queen of england idk also i dont think they actually changed the past, just people interpretation of it. btw whats up with the fontaine profecy and the whole "they sided with celestia" thing??

[matty-bear]

X. A Little Push [N.S]

type: chapter ten of The Influencer series

pairing: nick sturniolo x male!oc

warnings: sfw, tooth-rotting fluff

summary:  which matt and chris manage to persuade nick into talking to finn about coming clean with their relationship to the fans. 

notes: i really thought this would be the last chapter help . but alas this calls for a next chapter 😞 chapter 11 will be the last chapter of this series so be ready ! like i said before, there will still be more nick and finn content ^^ don’t be shy to send in requests about them <3 anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and happy reading !!

WC: 4.7k

CH9

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It has been about two and a half months since Finn and Nick first got together. They’ve (surprisingly) managed to stay under the radar and keep their relationship a secret for a good amount of time. However, both boys had many conversations as to when they would come clean about their relationship with their fans. They knew that both of their fan bases were aware that something was going on between the two considering how much they post each other (whether it be selfies, appearances in posts or vlogs, or just being seen together in public) but, their fans weren’t completely sure if they were together dating wise. 

Some fans were certain that they were together and complimented them on how lowkey they were and others simply thought they were just close friends. The whole incident of them first being seen together awoken great chaos between the two fan bases however Nick and Finn quickly shut down the riot that ensued. (both boys made a similar post on their stories commenting about the situation and ended up laughing about it because they practically lied to their entire fanbase) Even after this mishap was resolved, the fans continued to be a little suspicious of the closeness of the two boys. 

As Nick and Finn inched closer to the three-month mark of their relationship, the want of coming out to the fans grew stronger. Both of them wanted to be as open as possible with their relationship and be able to post risky (not in that context) photos on social media to brag about them being together.

Since both boys were rather indecisive and often backed out of posting an announcement about their relationship, Matt and Chris ended up taking the initiative of urging them to come out to the public. The two brothers were plenty aware of how Nick and Finn wanted to come clean about their relationship, however, they were also aware of how anxious they were about it. Matt and Chris knew it wouldn't be long until the two gave in coming out but they knew they had to give them a little push. 

PRESENT

It’s currently 3 AM and the triplets barely arrived back to their house after filming a car video. Finn, having already been at their place since early that morning, impatiently waited for the three boys to return ever since they left. The moment the male hears the front door opening, he springs up from Nick's bed and rushes out of his boyfriend’s room to greet the three boys entering their house. The moment the three boys step foot upstairs, Finn immediately runs to Nick and engulfs him in a large hug. The younger, not expecting the sudden collision, stumbles back and hits the wall behind him with a small ‘oof.’

“Well, hello to you too.” Nick chuckles, his arms immediately wrapping around the taller’s torso.

“I missed you.” Finn mumbles, his speech muffled by his face being dug into the crook of Nick’s neck. The latter giggles at the tingly feeling and leans back a little to get a better look at his boyfriend. 

“I was only gone for two hours.”

“Two hours too many.”

“You wouldn't be missing him every time we go to film if you joined us,” Chris says, projecting his voice as he enters the kitchen and opens the fridge. Finn momentarily releases himself from Nick’s grasp to look over at the youngest triplet who takes a can of Pepsi from the fridge. Sensing that someone is staring at him, Chris lifts his head as he shuts the fridge and immediately locks eyes with Finn. “Hey, I’m just saying. I'm sure the fans would love to have more Finn and Nick content.” 

Finn hums softly and returns to tightly hugging Nick. “I don't know..” The male says, his voice trailing off slightly as he glances over at his boyfriend. 

“I honestly think that bringing Finn in for a car video or even a podcast would be a great way of announcing your relationship,” Matt adds, taking a glance over at the couple still standing by the staircase before heading to the living room. “Feel like it'd be better than making a post.”

Nick and Finn collectively grow quiet at Matt’s suggestion and exchange a look before the older of the two brings them both to the living room. After being lightly shoved down onto the sofa, Finn sits next to Nick and immediately goes to lie down on his lap. As he continuously buries his face in Nick’s thigh, the latter giggles softly at his boyfriend's shenanigans and sets a hand in his hair. 

“I swear you're like a puppy sometimes,” Nick says as he begins to card his hand through Finn’s bright, blueberry colored locks. The taller simply hums and instinctively leans into Nick’s hand, craving the loving touch of his boyfriend. Nick rolls his eyes and chuckles at the male’s action before he speaks up again, “Exhibit A.” 

“Oh shut it.” Finn mumbles, a small smile forming on his lips as his eyes close. 

“Finn, hate to ruin your want of being a tough and cool guy but you give off major golden retriever vibes. Especially when you're around Nick. He should honestly edit a fucking tail and ears on you when you guys film a vlog together.” Chris states, making his presence known as he joins the three males in the living room. 

Finn immediately perks his head up at the brunette’s statement, his eyes following the male as he takes a seat next to Matt on the sofa. “Are you serious?”

Chris takes a quick sip out of the Pepsi in his hand before he replies, “Dead serious. You might as well dye your hair blonde to lock in the look.” 

“Wait, why does that sound really tempting..” Finn mumbles, his eyes shifting up to meet Nick who rolls his eyes. 

“You need to give your hair a break, you just re-dyed it. Let her breathe.” Nick says as he takes a single piece of Finn’s hair in between his fingers.

“Fine, fine.” Finn grumbles with a heavy sigh. As he lays back down on Nick’s thigh and gets comfortable, he takes his boyfriend's hand, which is still playing with a piece of his hair, and sets it on his head. “Can you continue, please?”

“Continue what?” As Nick sends Finn a teasing smile, the latter sighs heavily and drapes an arm over his face. Nick knew that Finn didn't enjoy verbally asking for affection and that he often opted to using body language to tell Nick what he wanted. Knowing this fact, the redhead often teased his boyfriend when he wanted affection and enjoyed seeing the flustered and semi-annoyed expression that painted his features every time he made him ask for affection. 

“Nick…” Finn says, dragging out the said male's name as he moves his arm down to see his boyfriend better. 

“Finn…” Nick mimics the older, his teasing smile not faltering, even after his boyfriend whines and turns around to lay on his side. “Don’t be so hard-headed, baby. All you gotta do is tell me what you want and I’ll happily give it to you.” 

“I’m not asking for it, Nick.” 

“Then you're not getting whatever you want.”

As Nick leans back against the sofa and pulls his phone out of his pocket, Finn quickly turns around to lay on his back, a hurtful expression clear on his face as he looks up at his boyfriend. “My love, please~” Finn whines as he reaches up to grab Nick’s arm. The latter, feeling that his boyfriend is continuously tugging on his sleeve, sighs faintly and removes his phone from his face to look down at his pouting boyfriend. 

“Why are you pouting?” Nick asks as he covers Finn’s face with a single hand. The latter huffs when his vision turns black and ponders for a moment before he licks Nick’s palm. The latter screams at the uncomforting touch and immediately removes his hand from Finn’s face. “FINN!” The redhead shouts, his jaw-dropping as he looks down at his boyfriend who's smiling widely at him. 

“What did he do?” Matt asks, his head whipping around to look over at the two males on the other sofa. 

“He licked me!” The sound of Chris laughing loudly can be heard the moment that statement escapes Nick’s lips and Matt joins the younger by giggling softly and covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound. Nick rolls his eyes at his two younger brothers before averting his focus back on Finn who's struggling to hold back his laughter. “Are you seriously laughing?”

As Nick narrows his eyes at Finn, the latter shakes his head. The moment he goes to open his mouth to reply, a stream of giggles escapes his slightly parted lips. The male quickly plops a hand over his mouth to muffle his faint laughter as Nick continues to glare down at him. “You know what…” The moment Nick goes to latch his hands onto Finn’s sides, the older lets out a squeal-laugh and rolls off his lap. The taller plops down onto the floor with a soft grunt and scrambles up to his feet as his boyfriend gets up from his spot on the sofa. 

Finn wastes no time in running out of the living room the second he regains his footing. At the sight of his boyfriend sprinting off, Nick immediately runs after him, both of his arms extending in front of him in hopes of grabbing the older male. 

“WAIT! I’m sorry!” Finn exclaims, anxious giggles spilling from his lips as he takes a sharp turn to enter the kitchen. 

“Bull shit! I could practically hear you thinking about licking me before you did it!” Nick yells. Seconds before he's able to grab onto the back of Finn’s hoodie, the latter uses the rest of his energy to dash back to the living room. He immediately heads towards Matt and Chris who have been watching the scene in front of them unfold with small smiles and jumps behind them. As Finn begins to hide behind Matt, Nick walks up to the three boys on the sofa, a look of amusement clear on his face as he looks down at them. 

“Are you serious?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow-raising. 

“Yes.” Finn replies flatly. “You have to get through these two to get to me.” Nick rolls his eyes as Finn latches onto Matt’s shoulders and ducks his head behind his back. 

“Matt, move.” 

“No can do. Sorry.” Matt shrugs his shoulders and reaches an arm back to grab Finn. 

Nick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking over at the youngest triplet. “Chris?” 

“What?” The brunette asks, a blank expression clear on his face as he looks up at the older. 

“Can you move so I can get Finn please?” 

“Oh. No.” 

“You know what, fine.” Nick huffs faintly and walks up to Chris, who watches his every move with narrowed eyes. “I'm giving you one chance to get up before I rock your shit.” 

“The fuck you mean rock my shit? you can’t- AH!” Chris gets cut off by Nick latching onto his sides and digging his fingers into the fabric of the shirt he’s wearing. The brunette immediately bursts into soft laughter and slides down the sofa, followed by both his hands reaching out to grab Nick's wrists. “BRO! NICK!” The moment Chris plops down onto the floor, Nick stops tormenting the male and looks over at Matt. 

“Don’t touch me.” The male states, a single hand raising as he moves back a little. 

“Move and I won't touch you.” At Nick’s firm statement, Matt looks back at Finn and sends him an apologetic look before moving over. 

“Okay, this isn’t even fair.” Finn frowns as he moves closer to Matt and clings onto one of his arms. “Chris I love you but you gotta check your sensitivity, man.” 

“Sorry,” Chris mumbles, letting out a small sigh as he hugs his torso and leans against the front of the sofa. 

“Finn, I love you but you gotta let me go or Nick's gonna get my ass,” Matt says, turning around and grabbing both of the older’s wrists to prevent him from grabbing him. Finn's frown deepens at Matt’s statement and allows him to move back a little more on the sofa before he turns his attention to Nick who's already begun to walk up to him,

“Wait! I have a proposition!” Finn exclaims, trying to reason with his boyfriend as he frantically waves his hands in front of him. 

Nick sighs slightly and crosses his arms over his chest. “And that is?” 

“Come here and I’ll tell you.” At the sight of Finn beckoning the redhead to come closer to him with a single finger, Matt’s jaw slacks and he quickly gets off the sofa and backs up away from the two. 

“You guys are fucking disgusting, I hope you know that.” Matt grumbles as he plugs both of his ears with his pointer fingers. 

“Are you thinking dirty, Matt?” Finn asks, leaning over to the side of Nick so he can get a better look at the brunette standing across the room, an uncomfortable expression clear on his face. 

“Who’s thinking dirty?” Chris asks, his head picking up as he quickly looks between the three boys in the room. 

“Matt.” Nick replies, pointing a single finger at the mentioned male. 

“Not my fault Finn is making this whole ordeal suspicious as hell. Kid is refusing to tell Nick his ‘proposition’ out loud. Tell me that’s not suspicious!” Matt defends, removing a single finger from his ear to point at Finn who’s slightly smiling. 

“God, what’s this proposition? You gonna suck his-“ 

“NUH-UH!” Nick shouts, immediately clamping a hand over the younger’s mouth before he gets the chance to finish his sentence. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” 

Chris quickly raises both his arms in defense and waits for Nick to remove his hand before he pouts. “Okay, but I wanna hear the proposition. Unless it’s dirty…” 

“It’s not dirty!” Finn exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air as he falls back against the sofa cushion. 

“Then say it!” Matt exclaims with a small huff. 

“I can’t, nick gets embarrassed over this stuff.” 

“So it is about-“ 

“CHRIS!” Nick swiftly bends down and lands a harsh pinch on the brunette’s side, earning a high-pitched scream from the male as he flinches away. 

“Okay, fucking Mr. Pinchy.” Chris grumbles as he caresses his now throbbing side. 

“Can you just tell me please?” Nick asks, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips as he turns to face his boyfriend who’s now sprawled out on the sofa. 

“Yeah, come here.” Finn replies, extending a single hand out in front of him. Nick immediately takes his hand and walks closer to the taller and crouches down in front of him. “Closer, you idiot.” Nick rolls his eyes and leans in closer, however, Finn shakes his head slightly and grabs the base of the redhead’s neck to pull him in. The quick action draws a small surprised shout from Nick as his chin plops down on Finn’s shoulder. 

“No need to be so aggressive.” Nick mumbles, a frown overtaking his lips as he gazes up at his boyfriend. Finn simply rolls his eyes and sits up a little, causing Nick to fall off his shoulder before he leans in towards his boyfriend’s ear. As he whispers something to the male, the younger begins to giggle softly and smashes his ear against his shoulder the moment he stops whispering. 

“Did you get what I said?” 

“Yeah. Shit just felt really weird.” Finn chuckles as Nick begins to rub his ear against his shoulder. 

“What did he tell you?” Chris asks, his voice soft and holding a sense of innocence as he gently tugs on Nick’s pant leg. The older quickly whips his head around at the faint touch and looks down at his brother who’s gazing up at him like a child. 

“It’s none of your business.” Nick replies as he crosses his arms over his chest. The male manages to catch Chris gasping dramatically and bring a hand up to his chest before he turns back to Finn. “Tonight?” 

Finn hums faintly as he nods. “The first part has to be done before you get it though.” Nick rolls his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips, before he takes a seat on the sofa next to Finn’s head. His boyfriend wastes no time in setting his head in his lap, his face smushing in between his thighs with a content exhale.

Nick allows Finn to get comfortable for a while longer before he begins to card his hand through his hair. The male in his lap hums happily and lands a quick peck on Nick’s clothed thigh before subconsciously leaning into the touch of his boyfriend. After endearingly gazing down at his boyfriend, Nick picks his head up and locks eyes with Matt who’s still standing across the room with a single finger in his right ear and gazing down at the floor. 

“Are you going to stand there all night or sit your ass down?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he sends a look toward the male. 

“Sorry just thinking.” Matt mumbles, blinking hardly a few times to get back to the present before shuffling back to the sofa. As the male seats himself down on one of the cushions, Chris gets up off the floor and joins him by sitting right next to him. 

“About what?” Nick furrows his eyebrows together as he looks over at Matt. The latter forces his lips together in thought and looks down at his nails for a moment before turning over to the older. 

“About how you and Finn need to come out to the fans already. Like no offense but you two have been talking about doing it for like what... two weeks now?” Matt diverts the last question to Chris who started eavesdropping halfway into the conversation. The brunette gazes off into the distance to think before he faintly nods his head in agreement. “Why are you two so hesitant? I know you guys want to tell everyone but why do you keep backing out?” 

It was now Nick's turn to force his lips into a straight line and grow quiet. Matt was right. Him and Finn have been backing out of this whole situation for quite some time now. As the redhead begins to nibble on his bottom lip, he gazes down at his boyfriend who’s still tucked in his thigh.

He goes to tap the boy to get his attention and chime into the conversation but decides not to when he catches his shallow breathing and soft snores. Realizing that he has no choice but to answer Matt by himself, Nick picks his head up and looks over at his two brothers who are intently looking over at him. 

“I don’t know…” Nick starts, dragging out the last syllable as he sighs faintly. “I guess we’re just scared to see how people will react. It’s not like we won’t be able to handle any hate we get, which we both know we’ll get because we’re two fucking gay men, but social media is just a really scary place, you know? People always have to shit on couples, famous or not, because they have nothing else to do. I know- well I hope the fans will be supportive but there is a part of me or rather both of us that believes that some people won’t be.” 

“Nick, seeing how both of your fan bases are eating up the content of the two of you, I highly doubt that they’ll send hate when y'all come out. Most of them already know that you guys are dating for crying out loud! I mean, they don’t know they’re right but we know they are. And if people do decide to send unnecessary hate to the two of you, just know that they’re fucking stupid people who don’t have a life.” Chris says, shrugging slightly as he leans back against the sofa. 

“Chris!” Matt exclaims, hitting the younger’s shoulder the moment the last sentence registers in his head. The brunette simply raises his hands in defense before Matt adds to the conversation, “Chris is right though. People already have a hunch that you two are together and I’m sure they won’t be surprised when you guys come out. Just do it and get it over with. I know you have numerous stay-at-home dates on your vlog camera that you’ve been wanting to post so you can finally post them after you guys come out and have more space to film more content with the both of you. As I said before, I say do the announcement in a car video or a podcast rather than making a single post about it. If you do it in a car video, you can sneak some photos of you and Finn in our photo dump and even post more on your personal account. It’s all your call but I really do think that the two of you should come out to everyone.”

Nick grows quiet for a moment and shifts his focus back down to Finn who’s still in a deep slumber in his lap. He slowly removes his hand from his boyfriend’s hair to rest his palm on his cheek. As he begins to delicately caress the male’s soft skin, his mind begins to spin about what Matt and Chris told him.

They do have a point… Him and Finn need to stop being scared of their fan bases and come clean about their relationship. They were bound to get some hate, that’s a known fact, but they’ll deal with it one way or another. 

Besides, he really wants to post more couple-y content with Finn. Not even couple-y stuff he just wants to post and film more content with Finn in general! 

“Alright.” Nick says with a soft sigh. When he lifts his head to focus his gaze on Matt and Chris, he’s immediately greeted with the two of them smiling widely at him. Nick shakes his head as Chris begins to shake Matt’s shoulder out of excitement and waits for the younger male to be done before he continues, “I'll talk to Finn about it in the morning. I think ima take him to bed.” 

“Alright. Update us when you guys talk about it please.” Matt says, gaining a small head nod from the older who begins to gently shake his boyfriend’s shoulder. After a few moments, a small whine slips out of Finn’s lips before he turns around to lie on his other side and buries his face into Nick’s stomach. 

“Baby, come on. let's go to bed, I know you’re tired.” Nick whispers as he cards his hand through Finn’s hair a few times. 

“ ‘m not tired.” Finn mumbles, his words slurring together due to his tiredness. 

“You fucking liar. Get up, come on.” Finn whines again when Nick gently pats his thigh. 

“Carry me.” 

“Are you serious right now?”

“So serious.” 

A heavy exhale escapes Nick's lips as he rubs a hand over his face. “Fine. I still need you to sit up though.” Finn grumbles a response before pushing himself up into a sitting position. Nick lightly pushes the male off his leg to stand up before he takes a moment to stretch out his sore limbs.

After he’s composed, he turns to Finn and can’t help but chuckle when he sees the male leaning against the back cushion of the sofa, his eyes shut and steady breaths leaving his slightly parted lips. “You guys see what I have to deal with?” Nick asks, pointing a single finger at Finn as he looks over at Matt and Chris. 

“We see. You chose to date him though so I don’t wanna hear you complain.” Matt replies, a small laugh escaping him as he glances over at Finn. 

Nick simply rolls his eyes at the brunette's reply before he turns to face his sleeping boyfriend. In one swift movement, he picks the male up and holds him firmly against his chest, a single arm coming underneath his ass to keep him up. As Nick adjusts his hold on Finn, the latter wastes no time in wrapping his arms around the redhead’s neck, followed by his legs wrapping around his waist. 

“You’re lucky you’re light. I would've immediately said no to carrying you.” Nick mumbles with a soft huff. 

“Would you really?” Finn mumbles, his eyes drifting shut once more as he tucks his head in the crook of Nick’s neck. 

“No, I lied.” As Finn giggles softly, Nick tells Matt and Chris goodnight before he starts to make his way up to his bedroom. As he climbs up the steps, he jumps a few times to ensure that he doesn’t drop Finn and to keep his firm hold on him. Once Nick gets up the stairs, he sighs softly and passes the dark and empty podcast studio before arriving at his bedroom door. He proceeds to struggle to open the door for a few moments however he manages to get it open with the help of Finn. 

“Thank you, baby.” Finn simply hums in response, too tired to verbally reply, and returns to his spot on Nick’s shoulder as the male enters his bedroom. Before the redhead goes to set his boyfriend down on the bed, he stops in the middle of the room and looks down at him. “Hun?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Do you want to do your skincare before you go to bed or do you just wanna go to sleep?” 

“I wanna go to sleep. I can do it in the morning, missing one night won’t hurt me.” 

“Alright, let’s get you in bed.” Finn hums again, this time a lot quieter, as Nick makes his way to the bed. He carefully removes his boyfriend’s limbs from his body before he lays him down. “Do you wanna change or are you fine with what you have on right now?”

“I'm fine, just come lay down, hurry up. Taking too long.” Nick shakes his head with a soft chuckle at Finn’s impatience and quickly slips his sweatshirt off, leaving him in his plain white t-shirt. After folding and setting the clothing item on the nearby nightstand, Nick finally slips into bed. The moment he goes to pull the blanket over his body, Finn hooks an arm around his torso and pulls him flush against him. The sudden action draws a startled sound from Nick before he relaxes against his boyfriend’s hold, a small smile creeping onto his lips as he pushes his back further against the male’s front half.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about the proposition I made,” Finn says, his voice soft and low as he securely wraps his arms around Nick to spoon the male. The redhead simply hums in response and tilts his head back to look back at his boyfriend. After peering down at him, Finn raises a single eyebrow at Nick and asks, “What is it?” 

“Kiss please.” Finn playfully rolls his eyes before bending down and placing his lips on Nick’s. The latter hums contently before the taller pulls back and focuses on bringing the redhead as close as he can to his chest. Once the male is fully against his body, he quickly reaches for the blanket and pulls it over the both of them. After adjusting the large item so they’re both comfortably under it, Finn rests his chin on top of Nick's head and slips a hand up his shirt to absentmindedly trace circles on his side. At the sound of Nick humming, Finn smiles softly and lands a quick peck on the younger’s cheek. 

“Goodnight my love,” Finn says as he returns to rest his head atop nicks. 

“Goodnight,” Nick mumbles, his response barely audible as he begins to drift off to sleep. It didn’t take very long until both boys fell asleep, the faint sound of their snores being the only audible thing in the room as they slept soundly. 

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