#like it would take way too many paragraphs to get all that shit out

[fingertipsmp3]

I don’t want to have to start a whole new journal because of this man but genuinely there’s no other way to get these thoughts out

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Three

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, ptsd/ flashbacks, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, jealousy, scenting, fingering, recollection of non-con trauma (for the plot), alcohol consumption/drunk character, let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 6.3k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Sorry this one took a while, been a hell of a week. It's got a lot of angst, so prep yourselves guysss. Ends with smut, ofc. I hope you guys enjoy 🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

“Y/n. For the love of Christ, you better tell me that the storm held ya up last night.” Jakes voice rings in your ear, waking you up.

Oh shit.

You look to your left to see the first rays of sunlight shining on Ralak’s sleeping, naked body, chest heaving slowly from his unfaltering breaths. Perched on his side, his face sits in his palm, as if he’s fallen asleep partially sitting up. Two fingers still nestled inside you, his facial muscles are slightly tensed, like he’s ready wake up any minute and tend to your every need, just like he’s been doing all night long. 

“Get your ass home. Now.” Jakes irate voice brings you back to reality.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

What were you going to tell Jake? That the storm did keep you up? He’d never believe that. Not for a second. Either way, if you didn’t go now, this man would skin the love of your life. Unmated, in his bed, all before your second iknimaya? He’d try, at least.

“Sst-ah.” you let out a shaky breath, grimacing as you pull his fingers out of you. They’re covered in your cum, so much so that a thick string of slick connects you to his fingers when you pull your pelvis away. You scramble to your feet, wiping yourself up with the already damp cloth next to his bed.

I’ll be back, my love. You think, looking over at him one last time before rushing out of his marui.

On your way to the cave, you try to assess your state. It’s hard to tell, given the fact that your heart is pounding at a speed only an ikran could attain. Anxiety streams through your veins, but otherwise, you feel fairly normal. Maybe a little bit like you did after your first iknimaya, when you passed your dream hunt and had one too many glow worms. But nothing unmanageable.

Guess it’s over.

Finally arriving at the cave, frantic eyes search the body of water for your loincloth. It’s floating at the far end of the lake, so you dive in. As you’re swimming, you catch a whiff of your own scent, mixed with Ralak’s. You bring your arm to your nose and take a deep breath. “Fuck.” you curse under your breath, submerging your entire body in the water, trying to bathe his scent off you.

You knew you scented each other, but you didn’t know that it would linger this long. You scrub your body, paying extra attention to your chest and neck. Time is going faster than you can move. But it’s like the more you scrub, the more you rub it into your skin – into your essence.

“Forget this.” you huff, grabbing your loincloth and swimming back to sand. You wring it out, slip inside and tie the knot hastily. One last look back on his marui pod, and you’re gone like the wind – quick and silent.

The trek back home is nerve-wracking, you feel so uneasy that you could feel something in your throat. A lump. You swallow repeatedly, trying to get rid of it, but it grows a little bigger for every step you take. By the time you’re at your marui door, you feel like you can’t breathe.

Neteyam smells you first, wreaking of a male na’vi, nose scrunching at the odour. He huffs a harsh breath through his nostrils, attempting to rid the lingering scent from of his lungs. He examines your condition – clammy skin with little colour left in it. Eyes trailing up to your face, he could see the fear written all over it, along with something else. Something like –

“Jesus, what the hell were you thinking?!” Jake hisses through clenched teeth.

“D-dad. I-I can explain.” you stutter, throat so tight you can barely speak.

Jake pulls his head back, eyelids blinking furiously. It’s as if the scent quite literally hit him, square in the jaw. With his suspicions confirmed, his lips stretch into a thin line, his go to expression of disapproval. The type that makes your ears lay flat against your skull, and bottom lip jut out.

“I can smell him on you.” Jake brushes past you. “Stay with your brother.”

“Dad, please.” your voice is strained, fighting against the lump in your throat. “Where are you going?”

He stops dead in his tracks, back still turned to you, a hand flying up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. “To Tonowari, kid. Tsireya will teach you from now on.” He heaves a heavy sigh and walks away.

The anxiety quickly morphs into anger, bubbling in your veins and sizzling your skin. Your short fuse blows. How could he take this away from you? You weren’t a ‘kid’ anymore. You had passed your iknimaya back home, and you’re on the brink of passing it here, too. Despite that, he always treats you like this, like the late bloomer you are. He didn’t even care to know what really happened.

“Not a fucking kid!” you shout after him, only for him to shake his head and continue walking.

“Sis.” Neteyam mutters, gently guiding you into the marui pod by your arm.

You shrug him off, storming past him to dive into your bed, burying your face into your pillow – damp from last night’s tears. It only becomes wetter as your fresh tears stream down your face. You couldn’t help it, you cried whenever you felt overwhelmed with anything. Sadness. Happiness. Anger. Frustration.

The sound of your privacy curtain being drawn back snaps your head up from your pillow. It’s Neteyam, standing over you with a face of concern, a bowl of steamed fish in one hand and a cup of water in the other. He sighs quietly, crouching down to come eye to eye with you. “You were in heat, weren’t you?” He states, already knowing the answer. “You should eat and drink something.” He places the bowl and cup on the floor next to you.

You sit up, supporting your torso with your arms behind your back. Neteyam. The older, caring bother, always looking out for everyone but himself. Of course, he would be the one to care enough to find out what you’ve been through the past day. “Yup. Late bloomer finally got her heat.” you speak of yourself harshly, taking the cup of water and chugging it.

“You smell gross.” he chuckles breathily, nudging the bowl of fish closer to you.

“Thanks, big brother. Appreciate it.” you giggle between cries, nudging it back to him. “Not hungry.”

His arms rest on his knees, braids swaying in his face as he looks behind him before dropping his head. “Agh.” he lifts his head, staring at you for a few seconds, as if he were contemplating something. “You should not have done that. Not before your iknimaya.”

“I didn’t! Nothing... like that happened, Tey. Ralak isn’t like that.” your head hangs low as you utter the words. “He’s... a gentle giant.”

Neteyam scoffs, straightening his spine. “Gentle giant? He looks like he eats na’vi for breakfast.”

“Hey –” you sniffle, glaring up at him, “I like him, Tey. A lot. He’s good for me.”

Neteyam’s features soften. As if hearing your words plucked a string of sympathy in his heart. As much as he wants to help you, he can’t. Not with a direct order from his father. He shakes his head, eyes closed, and brows furrowed.

That’s his way of saying, ‘Sorry. Can’t’.

You sigh, bringing your knees to your chest to hide your face. You can smell Ralak’s scent now that your nose is near your thighs. It fills your lungs with every breath you take. His pheromones. His aphrodisiac. His arousal. He left it all on you, rubbed into your skin so deep it seems to have altered your own scent.

Is this what scenting does?  

Soon you’re breathing heavily, trying to savour what left you have of him – of last night. It makes you heavy in the head, like all the strength has left your body. You feel your face warm up, the heat spreading to the tips of your ears. You’re tired. Defeated.

“Neteyam! Neteyam!” Lo’ak’s faint voice sounds frantic.

You hear Neteyam shuffling to his feet to go and check what his brother is on about. “Stay here, got it?”

“Mhm.” you hum, too tired to even lift your head.

The sound of Lo’ak yanking back your privacy curtain makes you jump out of your skin, nearly knocking over the bowl of steamed fish. You stare up at him wide eyed, to see him motioning over to the door of your marui. Your brows kiss in confusion, unsure of what’s going on.

“Heard you were in... hea-a situation. Just gonna borrow big bro for a second, cool?” he raises his brows, nudging his head towards the door in an emphasized manner.

A smile pulls at your lips once you realize what he’s doing for you. You wipe your puffy eyes with the back of your hand and shuffle to your feet. “I owe you, Lo’.”

Ralak’s POV

Ralak rouses to an empty bed. He sits up quickly, scanning his marui for any sign of you. Nothing. The only thing that remains is your potent scent flooding the room. The only proof that you were ever here. “Oh, y/n.” he groans, head slumping into his hands.

You were gone. Gone like you were never here to begin with. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he tried not to assume the worst. But what if – what if it was the worst? To be used and discarded like an object. All over again. Surely, there’s no way that you would do this to him, not after opening-up to you like that. Not after last night. Not after the words you uttered to one another before going to sleep –

‘I love you’.

But why does it feel the same? The same as that day. The day he was in a marui pod like this one, young, bare skinned and short haired, kneeling before his own karyu. His chest tightens, the walls of his throat closing in on one another. He can feel it creeping up his spine. The flashbacks. The tremors. The nausea. Rushing to his feet, he makes his way over to the shelf well-stocked with bottles of ‘fermented fruit’ – pxir [beer; alcohol].

A poison to many, but an antidote to him.

Dust had settled on the bottles since the last day he reached for them. The day you became his tanhì. That’s why he had never brought you up here, he never wanted you to see the truth. The way he copes with his emotions – bottling them up and then chugging it down when they became just too much.

The bottle opens with a pop, strong, bitter scent wafting up his nose, replacing the scent of you in his lungs. He takes a quick swig, baring his teeth from the sting of it trickling down his throat. “Ahh.” He sighs a breath of relief, feeling the alcohol already taking effect, loosening his chest, and clearing his throat.  

Yet he can still feel the shiver of his spine, and the churn of his stomach.

“Shit.” he curses, taking another swig. Cursing himself for trusting another after he made the vow to never trust again. Another swig. For facing the part of him that he’s denied since he came into adulthood. Another swig. For letting someone in. Another swig. For allowing himself to love you.

Alas, a clear mind and body – rid of the memories of his past.

He readies himself for his bath, something he often did to relax. Just like he did last time you left him.

----

Time is of the essence. With no idea of when Jake will be back, you move quickly. You weave through the webbing of the mangrove roots, ducking and dodging those that jut out. You take a short cut, bouncing over the netting of a cluster of marui pods on the way to Ralak’s.

Eyes guardedly stuck to your feet, you bump into Ka’ani, the man who replaced Ralak’s role as fisherman – faceplanting into his bare chest. Arms instinctively wrapping around you, he holds you close until you regain your balance. Admittedly, he’s a little too close for comfort, his face nestled in the crown of your head. You hear quick, nasally breaths, muffled by your hair.

Is he... sniffing me right now?

You shove him off you, probably a little too rough to be considered friendly, and take a few steps back. “Sorry, Ka’ani.” you mutter, gingerly walking around him.

“No problem, at all.” he smirks, raising his hands and making space for you to leave.   

With a quick shake of your head, you continue making your way to Ralak. The closer you get, the more a giddy smile spreads across your face. Though you were the bearer of bad news, you can’t ignore the flutters in your stomach. The same flutters you had when you first laid eyes on him – the day Eywa herself told you he’s the one.

Your mate.

Your legs move faster, as fast as they can go, until the sand slackens your steps. Silky, fine sand – always the first thing to let you know that you’ve arrived. You can’t help the excitement bubbling from your tummy and up your throat. “Ralak!” you blurt out, eager to find your love.

A tall figure in the distance catches your eye, it looks as if he were going into the cave. You wave your hands above your head, shouting his name as you lope towards him. “Ralak!”

The figure stops, turning around to acknowledge your calls. He stands still for a minute, before walking towards you with a stagger in his step. Tail perking up instantaneously, your hand flies to your bare hip, searching for your medicine pouch. You’re running on the tips of your toes again, concern and worry replacing the flutters low in your belly.

“Wha-t is it?” you shout, voice wavering as you close the distance between your bodies.

You crash into him with a smack, making the typically sturdy giant wobble. Now your ears art alert, perturbed by his odd behaviour. Gently pushing you away, his large hands grip your upper arms, fingertips touching once another. Blue, hazed orbs peer down at you, extra glossy and lidded.

“Are you sick? Wounded?” you question, resisting his gentle pushes to search his body. 

Nostrils flickering above his pursed lips, he leans into your neck. He pulls back with a huff, blowing hot air through his nose, onto your face. Your eyelashes flutter, face of concern quickly morphing into one of confusion.

Everyone is sniffing me today.

Head snapping to the left, his eyes search the webs of the mangrove roots off in the distance. A guttural growl rumbles deep in Ralak’s chest, thinned lips curling over his canines, flashing them before your eyes. You watch in awe as his brows lower, knotting together to turn his eyes beady. Ears flat against his skull, the scent of another na’vi scrunches his nose.

That’s a new look.

“Ralak.” your voice is breathy and small – laced with fright.

His growl grows louder, coming from the pit of his stomach, deep and powerful. Lengthy fingers tightening around your arms, he spins you around and tucks you behind him in one swift move. His name slips off your tongue once more, quick, and unsure. He has one hand perched on the dip of your waist, holding you close behind this towering frame.

“Come out.” he growls gruffly, straightening his spine to present at his full height.

The two words double-knot your stomach, sending you wiggling into the sink of his back, face peeking through the crack of his arm and side. Your eyes flicker from side to side, looking for whatever – whoever he’s talking to. Meanwhile, your fingers grip the band on his loincloth, the only thing available on his body to hold.

Silence.

“Or I make you.” He rasps the warning through his four, pointed fangs.

Perhaps if Ralak wasn’t here the knots in your belly would have tightened by now, to the point where you would feel queasy. But the hiss fizzling from the back of his throat puts your nerves at ease – your body sensing its safety in his presence.

Out comes a brawny, wide na’vi, from behind the large, thick roots of the mangroves. His hands are splayed out, representing something of caution. No – surrender. He approaches Ralak slowly. Warily.

“Sorry, brother. I did not know she was yours.” Ka’ani says impishly.

Jaw snapping open, his hiss comes out full force. It’s loud and thick, almost grating. Much like a roar. Though you knew it wasn’t for you, it shook you up, tugging at the string in your grip as your body jolts forward into his.

“She belongs to no one.” His top lip twitches as he spits the vile words, stinging your heart in the process. Am I not his? What about last night? You think, tightening your grip on the band of his loincloth.

“It looks as if she belongs to you, Tak.” Ka’ani leans to the left, chin jutting out as he tries to catch a glimpse of you. “Look at her, holding on to your –”

“Lewng! [shame]. Tracking her scent.” Ralak hisses, turning his body to hide you from his predatory eyes. “Leave.”

“Ah. Come on now, brot-” He spreads his arms wide, walking around Ralak towards you.

Ralak takes a step forward on his last word, nearly coming chest to chest with the shorter na’vi. A moment of silence passes between the two, as Ralak stares him down with vengeance in his eyes. A hand flies up to his hip, gripping the knife sheathed in its casing. “Now.”

Ka’ani straightens his back, eyes flickering between Ralak and yours that peek from behind him. His hands retract, hovering either side of his head as he retreats. Ralak maintains his position, with a hand keeping you tucked away whilst the other rests on his hip. Once Ka’ani’s figure is no longer visible, Ralak sighs, and turns his heel to make his way back to his much-needed bath.

“Thanks...” you huff, walking close behind him.

“You women and your heats.” he mutters as he walks faster, ripping his loincloth out of your grip.

“Ex-cuse me?” your words bounce as you try to keep up with him. “You have no –”

“Do you understand what would have happened had I not been here? Do not be so reckless.” He tsks, as his feet come to a halt, balling his hands into fists.

“Reckless? All I did was walk here!” you shout, almost bumping into him again.

“Because you left to begin with.” he whispers through clenched teeth.

“What?” the question is breathy, hands perching on your knees to rest.

He turns around quickly, prompting you to stand at full height. Breathing heavily, he presses his warm body against yours, chin tucked into his chest to peer down at you. Instinctively, you perch on the tips of your toes, eyes lidded in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, he brings your wrists up to his nose, heated lips pressing against your supple skin.

“He scented you.” he mumbles quickly, lips pulling into a thin line before letting go and backing away.  

“Why? How? I only bumped into him.” you walk towards him, watching him turn his heel again. “Hey –” you reach out for his arm to pull him back around.

First you leave him this morning, then come back scented by another na’vi. He shrugs you off, hands now fiddling with the knot above the base of his tail as he nears the entrance of the cave. The knot of his loincloth comes undone, heavy, sheathed hunting knife silently making impact with the sand.

“Because he wants everything that’s mine.”

So, I am his. You think, one corner of your mouth curling upwards into a smirk.

“Oh, Ralak.” You stand at the cave’s opening, waiting in silence for a response.

He continues to keep his back turned to you, dips of his clenched glutes on full display. Despite last night, seeing him naked still makes you shy, cheeks turning red and hot from the blood that rushes to them. You watch him hastily put his hair in a sloppy bun as he submerges himself in the water.

“I need to speak with you about this morning” you mumble, eyes locked onto the ripple of his back muscles.

“No need. I understand.” he answers lowly, shimmying over to the bottle of fermented fruit propped on a rock in the cave.

“Understand what? It’s about –”

“You made a mistake. It was your heat. It is fine.” he mutters quickly, taking a swig at the last word.

A mistake? My heat?

The realization hits you, hard. You’d been so out of it, so delirious from your heat you hadn’t given a second thought about his confession. His trauma that he confided in you, in this very cave. It’s like stones in your heart – no, boulders. Weighing it down so heavily that it feels like there’s a pulse in your stomach.

How could you be so cruel? So thoughtless? So insensitive? To not even wake him and utter the words to his face. To allow him to wake up to an empty bed after letting down his walls and being so vulnerable to you. To be so caught up in your own head you couldn’t even bat an eye at the man who helped you through your first heat.

“Oh. Oh, Lak. No. No, it’s nothing like that.” you sputter out a trembling voice, sliding into the water to rush over to him. You rest your hand on his upper back, taking in the warmth of his skin. He feels feverish – hot to the touch.

What is he drinking?

You rub his back gently, bioluminescent freckles dancing from your caresses. Yet, he’s rigid. Cold. Distant. He’s not the Ralak you know, swaying side to side as he brings the lip of the bottle to his mouth.

“Stop, my love.” you coo, sliding your hand up his raised arm as you walk around him.  Pulling the bottle away from his lips, you cautiously place the pxir on a nearby ledge. “Ralak.” you whisper, staring up at him with worried eyes.

The sound of his name falling from your lips tilts his head back ever so slightly, like it pained him to even look at you. Curly, loose stands of hair frame his face, accentuating his angular features. He attempts to fix his mask of indifference to his face, but you can see through it. You see the anguish glossed over his lidded, inebriated eyes.

Ocean blue eyes.  

tw: flashback

His mind is elsewhere, dissociating back to the day of the incident. The night of his iknimaya celebration, where his own karyu cornered him in his family marui, engulfing him with her pheromones. Manipulating him with her heat to take care of her. To touch her.

He can hear the waves crashing into the shore, the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof of the marui, the roll of the thunder – her whispers in his ear, ‘I’ve been waiting too long for this. You are officially a man now. Make your karyu feel better, right here...’.

The smell of her pheromones is suffocating, more potent than any fermented fruit he’s ever had. It frightened him, feeling like he had no self-control. No way to stop his movements, no matter how much he screamed at his body to move, run – anything.

It is what made him vow to never lose control of himself. His composure.

He can feel the heaviness of his body. The lethargy. The way his lungs refused to fill, no matter how hard he tried to breathe. When he woke, he was alone, sitting in the corner in a pool of his own sweat, curled in on himself. His karyu left, to never return. Leaving nothing but the lingering smell of her heated scent behind. 

tw: end of flashback

“My karyu” you hum softly, placing his hand on your chest.

When you first called him that, he almost grimaced. But as time passed, you made the word bearable. You gave it a new meaning, a new feeling. Eventually filling him with eagerness to hear it fall from your flushed lips. In tones of excitement, frustration... pleasure.

You hold his thumb, and give it a squeeze, trying to bring him back from wherever he is. Your heart weighed even heavier, seeing him drift away and detach when he’s right in front of you. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Feel me. Feel my heartbeat. Focus on it and come back to me.”

The words echo in his skull, reverberating between the thick bone. He can hear you, feel you. With each thump of your heart, the heaviness of his body lifts, the scent of her fades, the pitter-patter of the storm subdues until nothing, but that thump can be heard. His eyes finally flicker down to yours, ears and brows twitching at the pulse of your heart.

Only a bottle could do that for him. Bring him back. Yet, you did it with the mere sound of your heart.

“I’m sorry, Lak. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I was so thoughtless. I’m sorry... that happened to you.” the words are shaky, flowing over your quivering bottom lip. “I would never. Ever. Ever. Ever –” you blubber, shaking your head, “Ever, do that to you. I-I had to leave because of my father. He’s punishing me. Forbidding me from seeing you. Having Tsireya teach me instead. I should have woken you.”

Another arm snakes around his waist, bringing him in closer to you. You slump your head into his chest, letting the tears flow and stain his skin. “I don’t regret a thing. I meant everything I said. I-I see you, Ralak” you sputter, breath hitching from the crying.

“Tanhì” he croaks, kissing the crown of your head as he wraps his arms around you to hold you closer.   

“I love you” The three words are said in unison as you cling onto one another.

Alcohol still coursing through his veins, Ralak’s heavy body slumps into you, slowly shifting you both against the cave wall. He presses your back against the rocky surface, unwrapping his arms from your waist to support his body weight with a hand on the wall. He leans in, brushing his cheek against yours.

“I will miss you.” he whispers huskily next to the shell of your ear.

“I’ll miss you, too.” you whisper back, head pulling back to meet his gaze.

Your eyes lock for a moment, an undeniable tension now budding in the air and making your breaths quicken. He inches even closer, lips brushing against yours as you exchange the same hot breath until you’re light in the head.

He kisses you roughly – sloppily.

Tongue slipping into your mouth, you get a taste of what he’s been drinking all day. It’s a little sweet, with undertones of various fruits native to the reef people. But once the sweetness wears off, the bitter aftertaste makes your brows gather. He pulls away, revealing heavy-lidded eyes with thin blue rings for irises, flickering side to side as they stare into yours.

Chests heaving in synchrony, you both struggle to catch your breath. Hands cupping each other’s face, your lips crash into one another again, body language hungry and desperate for each other’s touch. Ralak shoves his knee between your legs, providing you with the friction your body has been begging for. Your body moves on its own, humping at his thigh as best you can in the water.

“I-I want... you.” The desperate words part your bruised, flushed lips, hand sliding up his back to caress his kuru [queue].

He shakes his head, brows gathering tightly. “Not now. Not here. We do it the right way.”

“Then...” you pant, voice laced with desperation as your hands make their way to his hips, dainty fingers wrapping around his hardened girth, “...give me something else.”

Breath turning raggedy, he struggles to maintain his composure. The influence of the alcohol surging through his body proves it to be an even more difficult task. He takes a deep breath, withdrawing his knee from your legs to spin you around in one quick motion. Ralak tries his best to be gentle with you, shoving you into the wall to press his aching cock against you.

A soft moan parts your lips; thin, fuzzy tail wrapping around his thigh in attempts to bring you closer. Eywa, did that push him closer to the edge. Your tail had been one of his favourite things about you from the day you first locked eyes, so slender and delicate. Nothing like his. It not only fascinated him. It aroused him.

It makes him push into you even harder, tip of his cock throbbing against your lower back. He craves to be even closer to you – to be inside you. To rut into you until your voice becomes so hoarse from screaming his name. Over and over. Again, and again. Fingers hurriedly fiddling with the knot of your loincloth, he pants a few greedy, rough kisses along your upper back.

“Oh! Ralak, I-I think –” you moan lowly, his touches throwing you into a daze.

“What?” he huffs, fingers coming to a halt in fear that he’s being too rough with you.

“I think I’m still in heat.” you lie, or maybe it wasn’t a lie. You feel so woozy in the head that you’re not even sure what’s going on anymore. All that sits at the forefront of your mind is him claiming you as his.

“Is that so?” he lets out a breath of relief, a chuckle if you will.

“Yes. Can you help me?” you pant, trembling voice feigned with innocence.

“Ah. Let me check, little one.” He buries his face into the nape of your neck, pulling back with a loud sigh through his nose. A growl rumbles in his chest and up his throat. “I can still smell him.” The scent of another so deep into your skin makes him want to mark you. To sink his lengthy canines into your neck for the smell to seep out, only to be replaced by his.

“Then fix it.” you breathe, head dipping forward to open yourself up to him.

“Oh?” he smiles open mouthed, brushing his pointed fangs against your silken skin, making your back arch on instinct. Submitting to him and his touch. Open mouth lingering over your neck, his jaw closes to graze his teeth against you. He sucks lightly on your skin, puckered lips pulling off with a pop.

Of course, he’d make you wait for that too. He was only ‘helping’ you, right now.  

He kicks your feet apart, spreading your legs for him to settle in closer behind you. A string of your slick connects your thighs together, breaking apart when he rubs his cock against your bare cunt. He begins rubbing his face into the back of your neck, scenting you as his.

“Mine. Yes?” he growls, thrusting himself against your slippery slit.   

“Yes.” You spread your legs further apart, standing on the tips of your toes to provide him with better access. “Please.” You let out a pathetic mewl.

He grunts in frustration. He wants nothing more than to thrust himself inside you, stretching your pussy out with his huge cock. And with those little, sweet pleas, it’s almost too hard to resist. But he does. He pulls away, gaze snapping down to the rope of wetness connecting your most intimate parts together.

Cocking a brow, his hand comes between your sticky pelvises, fingers coiling around the string of slick before they glide over your pussy and spread your folds. Your wetness drips down his digits, pooling in the palm of his hand. “So wet. Maybe you are in heat.” he mumbles, pressing his lips against your back, peppering kisses down the curve of your shoulder.  

Ralak fondles with your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles into it with his slickened fingertips. Your hips squirm around from the white-hot pleasure tightening your core. It’s just not enough. Perhaps it’s just residual heat, but you feel so, so empty. A yearning deep in your womb, to be filled and stretched. Your hips buck forward, slipping his fingertips to prod at your entrance, before pushing back on him to try and sink them inside you.

Needy body language riling up the giant behind you, his harsh kisses move their way up to your ear. “Say it, tanhì.” he groans lowly, positioning his finger at your tight hole.

“I n-need you inside of me!” you cry desperately, shoving yourself back into him.

“You listen so well, paysyul.” he exhales a hot breath into the shell of your ear, sinking his thick finger inside you, twisting his wrist so that he can curl it right into your sweet spot.

“Oh, shit.” you moan breathily, cheek pressed firmly against the rocky wall.

“That is why you learn so quickly.” He fingers you roughly, expertly working out a squelch with each curl of his digit.

The feeling is like heat, shooting down your spine and pooling in your pelvis. It makes your hips spasm, chasing the fiery sensation in hopes to put it out. His finger brings relieve, satiating the itch as your sweet spot swells from pure bliss. He knows exactly where to touch, and how to touch.

Yet, it still isn’t enough.

“More! ‘ts not enough!” you cry, writhing underneath him.

He finds your little cries amusing, letting a chuckle evade his lips. How could something so small act so mighty? He slides another digit in, feeling your tight pussy walls stretch to accommodate him. He hears the little whimper bubbling up your throat, letting him know you need a moment to adjust.

“Taking my fingers so well, hm?” he praises you with a shaky voice, planting a gentle kiss behind your ear.

“Mmmn! Please!” Another plea falls from your lips, a plea for him to move – to make you cum. He sets a relentless pace, stimulating the sensitive spot in your gummy, hot walls, working lengthy moans and mewls from you.

With the way he’s fingerfucking you, it feels as if your nerves are on fire. The coil tightly wound in your core ready to snap any second now. Your brows pinch together in fervour, mouth falling open to allow heavy, hot breaths to escape.

“Close! So close! Gonna! Gonna –” Your words catch in your throat, leaving you breathless and tense around his fingers.

“Make yourself cum.” he orders gruffly, stopping all movement once he feels you tighten around his digits.

You gasp, hips moving on their own to chase the orgasm he just took away from you. “No, no. You know I can’t. Please.” you sputter, pushing against the wall to ride his fingers.

“You can. And you will.” he growls, bending his fingers as encouragement.

You quickly accept your fate, holding on tightly to whatever pleasurable feeling remains and running with it. You push back on him, squirming around as you try to make yourself cum. Closing your eyes, you tune into your body, feeling what feels good and where. But the position that you’re in makes it even harder to do it yourself.

“Just fuck me!” you cry desperately, frustration so pent up you couldn’t help the outburst.

“Language.” he hisses, shoving his fingers so deep inside you that your slick coats his knuckles.

“Fuck! Please.” you beg, reaching behind you to grab his wrist.

“No.” he smirks, looking down at how your cunt sucks in his digits, listening to your pleading and begging.

He just wants to hear a little more. To hear how badly you want him. He loves the way you squirm around, sputtering nonsense from being so fucked out by just his fingers. He loves the little noises your pussy makes for him and can’t wait to hear how they’ll sound once his cock is stuffed inside you.

“Ralak. Please. Please make me cum!” you cry, using his wrist as leverage to fuck back into him.

He slides his hand down your stomach, fingers playing with your swollen, neglected clit. He’s pumping his digits in and out of your dripping cunt, feeling your slick dribble down his hand. It doesn’t take long for you to near your climax, pussy walls clamping down around his fingers.

“Let go. Cum for me.” he groans, swollen tip of his cock oozing beads of precum onto your lower back.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck!” you let out a hoarse cry, entire body shuddering underneath him “Cumming! Cumming!”

“That’s my girl.” he hums proudly, scissoring his fingers open to stretch you out.  

You let out a high-pitched whimper, hint of pain making your eyes water. Then a wave of ecstasy ripples through you, leaving your legs trembling beneath you. He snakes his arm around your waist, holding you up while you ride out of your high, sprinkling your shoulder with kisses.

Once you come down from your high, you lean back into him, resting your head against his chest. Huffing and puffing, you try to catch your breath as you turn around to cup his swollen balls. “My turn to make you feel good.”

To your surprise, he rests a hand on your arm, pulling it away from him. He looks down at you through blown pupils, arousal plastered all over his face. Beads of sweat trickle down his temples, wet strands of curled hair stuck to his cheeks, he sighs the words. “Not today, tanhi. I must get you back, now.”

[pervspace]

Hey bby!! Could u do smut but its vendetta leon x a goth reader??? I mean like, romantic goth?? I was thinking him n the reader experimenting with new kinks??? Idk

warnings: nsfw, m.reader, age gap!!! (leon is late 30s reader is early 20s), choking, pain play, mean leon :(, daddy/master/sir kink, marking and bruising, aftercare!!

word count: 1079

note: this was so sweet to write ty anon!!

—

“leon, can we talk for a second?” leon placed his beer bottle down before turning away from his computer to face you, he gave you a gentle smile before beckoning you to his lap. you happily sat on his lap, he noticed that you were holding his journal. ah shit. “don’t get mad but…i read through your journal and…do you really wanna try that impact stuff with me?” he stared at you blankly before letting out an airy laugh, “let an old man have his fantasies, geez kid.” you felt his leg start to bounce making you giggle, it’s not like you weren’t flattered at the long paragraphs written about all the different ways he wanted to hurt sexually you. “tell you what mr. kennedy, i’ll let you try out the whole impact play shit you’ve written about me. that’d be pretty fun hm?” leon instantly perked up at your words, he was instantly intrigued. “babe…have you read it? i feel like you should-“ “i’m a grown man, i know what i want. and what i want is you, leon.” time for prepping!

you and leon went through everything you needed to before starting, safewords, nonverbal cues, what to do and not to do. he was very cautious since he could easily get caught up in what he was doing, he just wanted to keep you safe. “again, baby, if you want to change your mind now you can, i promise i won’t be mad.” you placed your hand on his cheek before peppering his face in your black lipstick, “it’s okay leon, i promise. i know what to do if it ever gets too much.”

IMPACT PLAY + DEGRADATION

‘i want to hurt him, i know it sounds bad but the thought of hurting him and leaving bruises on him makes my cock throb. i want to see him cry from all the pain and the names i call him. i want to see him bruised up and wanting for me, i couldn’t possibly tell him this though. he would definitely think i’m a fucking creep.’

smack.

you let out a pained cry as his hand came in contact with your soft cheeks again, you couldn’t focus on anything but the pain he gave you. your face was burning and your thighs were scarred and bruised, everything hurts on your body but it feels so good. “how many?” what? how many? “h-huh?” you looked up at him confused, what the hell did he mean how many? “how many times have you been hit today, hm?” you we’re trying to remember, you were trying your very best. you couldn’t focus with him staring daggers into you, you squirmed in discomfort. “…i-i don’t know…” leon looked annoyed and frustrated, you looked down ashamed with yourself. “i-i’m sorry! i’ll try to remember-“

smack.

you fell over holding onto your cheek, he continued to hit the back of your thighs and ass with a riding crop. you tried to crawl away from him, only to feel his hand push the back of your neck down, effectively locking you down. he placed his knee on your lower back and applied only a little bit of pressure, you wiggled under his weight. “don’t try to run away, slut. you wanted this, and i’m going to give it to you.” you whimpered at the harshness of his voice, he yanked you on your back to see your face covered in tears. he smiled at his hand work, his eyes trailed down to your hardened cock that was wet with your precum. “aw look at your pathetic cock, want me to touch it? want me to make you feel good?” you nodded frantically, raising your hips to feel any type of friction on your sensitive cock. “pl-please i’ll be go-good. i’ll be s-so good! just j-just make me cum please…pleaseee…?” he thought for a moment before taking the tool in his hands and dragging it across your twitching cock, you groaned in discomfort, you just wanted to cum and he was being so mean to you.

“here the deal, im not gonna touch your slutty cock. so i’ll just use my favorite toy on you, you don’t even deserve my touch.” “w-wait no! d-don’t use-“ you let out a loud cry of desperation and pain as he started to smack your cock around, aiming directly for your wet tip. each hit sent painful shocks throughout your body, but it somehow still felt so good. you quickly felt yourself nearing your orgasm, “puh-pleaaasee can i cum? please please please?” you grabbed onto his shirt desperate for his approval, you wanted to cum on his terms. “tch, desperate slut.” he used the tip of the tool to quickly run against your sensitive tip, you arched your back at the sudden action while letting out a loud shriek.

“what do you say when daddy gives you what you want, hm? don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.” you felt his hand grab onto your throat, hard enough to knock the wind out of you. “th-th-thank you d-daddy- mph- i-im cumming thank you!l” his grip on your throat didn’t falter, it only got tighter as your orgasming hit you full force. you grabbed onto his forearm trying to gasp for air, your back was stuck in a permanent curve, your toes curled, your cock jumped with each rope of cum that spilled out of it. you couldn’t breathe but the orgasm made up for it, your eyes were rolled back as you slowly started to fade. “baby, look at me, are you alright?” you we’re tired, your body ached, and your throat was killing you. you could only manage to nod at his question while giving him a small smile, he returned the smile before picking you up bridal style and walking to the bathroom.

“gonna get you nice and clean up okay?” you nodded, he never let go of you during the cleaning process. keeping your hand firmly in his, gently washing the sweat and sore spots of your body, kissing places that you winced at. when it was finally time for bed he dressed you himself, tossing you in one of his shirts and wrapping you in a giant blanket burrito. “you did so good for me, such a good boy.” your face warmed at the praise, he kept you firm against his chest before you felt the warm of sleep taking you over. “so cute, good night lovely.”

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - My Joseph

In an effort to keep perfectionism from sabotaging my attempts to write and share said writing, I've decided to do more spur of the moment writing exercises. Last time I had a bit of a writing prompt about Joseph growing old with his beloved to inspire me. This time I decided to finish a WIP from a while back that was only a few paragraphs long and see where it took me.

Where it took me was a very smutty 1st person perspective romp about a gender-neutral MC wanting to mark their claim on Joseph.

Content Warnings: This story contains graphic sex with a spicy hint of yandere possessiveness. This story is for 18+ Adults Only.

Also please don't mind the rough spots. This is a first draft, off the cuff exercise to encourage myself to just have more fun with just the act of writing itself. I want to stop psyching myself out of creating and sharing my work even if it isn't perfect. I hope you enjoy this spicy tale and please let me know if you do. 💖

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

...

I was so happy that Joseph was doing what he loved. I wanted to support him as much as possible. He was a star, and the way he shined was absolutely spellbinding. How could everyone not love him?

However, after spending hours watching a crowd of fans adoring him, too many flirting with him, I just had to stake my claim on my Joseph once we were alone. Kiss marks didn’t have the staying power of his tattoos, but the sight of him covered in them, moaning in bliss each time I made a new one would stay with me forever.

Joseph was a big man, tall and muscular. Even dressed as a clown he was intimidating despite his charming smile. In his arms I felt positively tiny. He could crush me easily if he wanted, and I felt a thrill knowing that he never would… unless I asked him to.

Most of the time I enjoyed letting him take control, but right now I wanted Joseph at my mercy for a change. He hadn’t expected the ambush the second he entered his dressing room, my body pinning his against the door to force it closed. His wide-eyed look of shock was almost as delicious as his lips when I stole a kiss from him, stifling a yelp that sounded suspiciously like my name.

Those big strong hands of his roamed across my body, caressing and squeezing as he pleased. The feeling of his tongue twining with mine left me feeling lightheaded, but I refused to be swept away or allow him to reverse our positions. I countered his attempt to take control by sliding my leg between his and grinding against his crotch. He broke the kiss with a breathless gasp, his grip tightening on my hips, and I smiled as I felt him go hard against me.

“Shit, Sunshine,” Joseph moaned breathlessly. “What… what brought this on?” He paused to let out a breathless chuckle. “Not that I’m complaining…”

“I want you all to myself for a change,” I said, my voice husky, almost a growl, before I pressed on with my attack. His breathing hitched as I kissed his neck, and he tipped his head back to give me room to suck on his skin. I could feel the way his breath shuddered as he moaned my name, and I relished the way he submitted to me. “I missed you.”

His skin tasted of salt and smoke, and I relished that flavor that was distinctly Joseph. I raked my teeth against his Adam’s apple lightly and felt it bob as he swallowed. I sucked on him there to feel it move again and leave another hickey behind.

“I m-missed you too…,” Joseph responded in a shaky voice that I felt against my lips before he let out a gasp and a delicious moan of my name.

Though Joseph let me devour and mark his throat, he just couldn’t remain idle. His hands went down my pants to squeeze my ass and it took all my willpower not to make an embarrassing sound. “F-fuck!”

Joseph shushed me before flashing me that damn cheeky smile of his. “Careful, Sunshine,” he whispered breathlessly. “We don’t want to get caught do we?”

Oh no he didn’t. Joseph wasn’t going to give me that smoldering look and make me melt into a puddle this time. I was in control, and I was going to make sure he knew it.

“Of course not,” I practically purred. “So you better keep your voice down.”

The flicker of surprise on Joseph’s face turned into a wide-eyed stare as I suddenly pulled his pants and underwear down in one fell swoop. My attack on his neck served as a perfect distraction so that he wouldn’t notice me taking care of that silly smiling belt of his.

I slid down to my knees to get a good look at his cock, fully erect and ready for me. I caught the small amount of precum already beading on the tip on my tongue, getting a taste of salt and sex.

“Fuck…,” Joseph moaned my name as he took hold of my head with both hands. “God, yes.”

Now was the time to mark my territory just the way I rehearsed it in my head. I looked up at Joseph through my eyelashes, doing my best to set him ablaze with my eyes alone the way he always did so effortlessly. “You like that, Starlight?”

“Of course. What’s not to love?” Joseph chuckled in a husky, breathless tone. “I love seeing you like this for me, Sunshine… so beautiful and eager for me.”

I did my best to ignore the way his sweet silver tongue could send my heart racing. I focused instead on tracing the underside of his cock with my fingertips, making it twitch at my feather light touch. “Then tell me… who’s the only one who gets to see you like this?”

“You, Sunshine,” Joseph said without hesitation before saying my name with so much affection that it sent my insides fluttering. “Only you.”

I suppose it was too much to expect Joseph to be caught off-guard enough to sputter or fluster at my boldness, especially not after how many times we’ve made love, but this wasn’t a bad result either. “That’s right,” I cooed as I took hold of his cock, eliciting a low breathy moan from him. “You’re mine, Joseph.”

“And you’re mine,” Joseph said, his voice tender yet throaty. “Now and forever.”

“Forever,” I echoed, and the knot that was in my chest since he was surrounded by that mob of lustful housewives loosened a bit. It was so hard not to soften completely and let things fall back into their usual rhythm, but I was determined to assert my dominance a little longer. I brought a commanding edge back to my voice. “Now, tell me what you want.”

Joseph practically growled my name like an animal, sending shivers down my spine. “I want you, Sunshine. I want you to suck my cock and swallow every drop of my cum. I want you to take me in every hole and let me fill you up nice and deep so you’ll always feel me inside you. I want you to lose control and scream my name loud enough for the world to hear that you’re mine. I want everyone to know who you chose, who you love more than anyone else. No matter where you are or what you do, I want to be the only one in your thoughts, the only one who can make you like this… the only one you need in every way.”

I hadn’t expected such an intense response, though I suppose I should have. Joseph always had a way with words that left me hot and flustered. I tried to regain my composure and come up with a suitable retort, but those dark eyes of his that burned with love and lust made it that much harder to think. “Joseph… I-I want you to need me that badly too.”

“I do,” Joseph said in a near groan as he nudged his cock against my mouth, which was dripping again with his need. “Fuck, I need you so, so badly, Sunshine. Please…”

Fuck. I wanted Joseph to beg, but I wasn’t expecting what it would do to me. The desperate note of sheer need in his voice sent shivers of heat through me that pooled between my legs and left me aching.

How could I deny such a sweet plea like that?

Joseph moaned my name as I went down on him, and I relished the way he shuddered and twitched in my mouth. He was so big and hot, almost too much for me to handle, but I had more than enough experience to take him in deep.

“That’s it,” Joseph said in a low, breathy voice. “Fuck, Sunshine. Your mouth feels so good.  No one else could make me feel the way you do.”

He kept whispering my name between husky pants and sweet praise. His hands kept running along my head down to my neck and shoulders then back up again. The way his hips twitched told me just how hard he was fighting the urge to start thrusting. I squeezed those juicy thighs of his, holding him in place while silently reminding him who was in control right now.

“Oh God,” Joseph moaned. “You’re taking me so deep… Fuck… That’s it. Take all of my cock. It’s all for you… just you. Only you, Sunshine.”

Joseph always had a way with words, telling me exactly what I wanted to hear. I redoubled my efforts, wanting to take in every inch of him. The noises he made were just as intoxicating as his sweet praise and the way he said my name left me lightheaded. I was drunk off his love and need for me, and I couldn’t get enough of him.

“Shit, yes,” Joseph hissed. “God, you’re so beautiful. That’s it… just like that. Fuck!”

It was a struggle to increase the tempo while deepthroating him, but I was determined. I added my hands to the mix, toying with his balls before stroking the base of his cock where my mouth couldn’t reach. He let out a yelp, his hips jolting as I gave him a particularly firm squeeze, and I had to take a moment to catch my breath when I started to gag. I refused to let up on the attack while I gave my throat a break, squeezing him firmly as I moved my hands along his length in quick strokes.

Joseph started to buckle under the intense assault, his back sliding down along the door a little, though he refused to let his legs give out. His words of praise came out more broken now, sentences cut off by barely stifled moans that begged to become reckless screams.

I adored how beautiful Joseph looked in that moment, how weak and needy he was from my touch. He let go of the control he was so fond of having over me and was reduced to a pleading mess that I couldn’t get enough of. My groin ached for satisfaction, but I stubbornly refused to let myself get distracted. I put my mouth back to work with renewed vigor, making sure to swipe my tongue along the spots that I knew would make him whimper for me.

When all Joseph could say was my name as he started to tense, I knew he was close. I debated stopping at the last second, wanting to tease him a little more to make sure he knew who was in control this time and see how he might react, but I was nearing my limit as well. I needed him inside more than just my mouth. My body ached to be one with him. I needed him to fill me up like no one else could.

But before that, I needed to see him come absolutely undone for me.

One of his hands left my head so Joseph could bite down on it to stifle a cry as he gave me exactly what I wanted. The rush of hot sticky cum hit the back of my throat that I was quick to swallow. I focused on each pulse of his cock in my mouth, the way he arched his back and shuddered. With one hand he held onto me for dear life while the other tried to keep the entire studio from finding out what we were doing.

For a moment, I was tempted to rip that hand away from his mouth and let the world know the name of the person Joseph was screaming for so desperately.

I dropped the thought immediately. As much as I wanted to mark my territory, that was a step too far. We weren’t supposed to be doing stuff like this at the studio after all, and I didn’t want to risk Joseph losing his job.

Besides, if we were caught, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy scandalous moments like this where I got to reduce the famous Sunny Day Jack to a pleading, needy mess.

When I finally released Joseph, he all but crumpled to the floor. Despite the haze of bliss fogging his mind, he immediately reached out for me, crushing me to his shuddering body before fumbling to capture my lips with his. He whispered my name as we parted, breathless and husky, and sent a shiver down my spine.

“God…,” Joseph breathed. “I love you so much… so fucking much… No one makes me feel the way you do, Sunshine.”

“I love you too, Joseph,” I answered, but I didn’t get the chance to say more before his mouth captured mine again.

The kisses started off languid, but soon grew more intense as Joseph recovered his strength. Before I knew what was happening, I was pinned on the floor beneath him, deliciously trapped under his hot and heavy body. His hands were everywhere, leaving a trail of fire with every touch as he sought out every inch of me. My clothes were gone before I knew it, along with my domination over him.

I was beyond caring at that point. All that mattered was getting Joseph just as naked as me and tasting that silver tongue of his as he kissed me until I was breathless. All I wanted was to revel in just how much he wanted me, loved me, needed me. I wanted to savor his possessive growls, his frantic pawing of my body, and the way he marked me as his inside and out. The pleasure I took in knowing that I drove him to this state was almost as good as the way he made me feel as he claimed me as his.

Taking control for a change was a lot more fun than I expected. I needed to do it again sometime soon.

[gibsongirled]

THE LA DREAM !!

description: you move to los angeles and your neighbor is like really cute !!

a/n: i feel like some of the paragraphs in this encapsulates my feelings for los angeles

You thought that moving to LA was going to be easy.

And as you struggled to carry your boxes up the stairs, you took back your words and huffed out a breath of frustration. The boxes weren't even that heavy, but the third flight of stairs made you wobble as you reached the top. Curse LA and their trends to make everything unbearable. And maybe you were slightly to blame as you picked the one building where there were no elevators- but the rent was cheap, so you were willing to look past the small hassle of climbing up three flights of stairs - everyday - after a long day of work for the sweet low low price of an apartment not costing an arm and a leg.

"Woah, there!" The top box staggered and you heard a loud exclaim, a sudden flash of hands rushed over to steady your poorly made tower of boxes. You stumbled backwards - grateful that you were not on the stairs - trying to steady yourself and the boxes, one foot back to hold yourself up. It took a moment, but you and the boxes remained still and you let out a breath of relief.

“Thank you,” you let out a small laugh as the hands disappeared back to its owner, and you placed the boxes down on the carpeted hallway floor. You glanced back up. Holy shit, that guy with the hands is so fucking tall. Pale and four eyed with a charming smile that seemed to make your heart beat fast to the point where doctors could have mistaken it for arrhythmia. You straightened back up, holding out your hand for the guy to shake and your name spilled out, a smile finding its way onto your face.

“I’m Ted,” he parroted back your name as if he was sounding it out, his hand gripping yours with a firm handshake. Wow, he has nice hands. Really, really nice hands. He broke the handshake, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You never knew what to do with your hands. Do you mirror him and stuff your hands in your pockets too? Do you cross your arms? Do you just let them awkwardly hang by your side? The options were endless! “So you moving in?”

You settled on awkwardly placing your elbow on the top box, patting it like you would with a car. “Yep, right over here.” You nodded to where you stood. “What about you?”

“No way!” Ted’s eyes shone with pure unadulterated excitement- in a way, it kind of reminded you of a golden retriever. He jammed a thumb behind him, clearly showing off the door that was across from yours. “I live over there!” What a surprise. You moved to Los Angeles in pursuit of something great that you couldn’t get in your backwoods hometown and your neighbor gives off the vibes of a “boy next door” kinda aura that you cannot seem to shake.

“Ey, that’s cool!” You cocked a finger gun at him. What are you doing? He cocked one back. Oh cool, you’re not the only weird one here.

“Are you new to LA?” Ted asked, clearly seeing that you were very much out of place, unlike him. You nodded, giving him a wry smile and a slight chuckle. “Yeah, that obvious, huh?”

Ted gave you a shrug, “Just a bit.” Well, there was no sugar coating that was there? “I can give you a tour if you want? Show you all the places you’d get scammed as a tourist? You’d be surprised at how many places do that.” Now that was a fucking offer you couldn’t refuse. Sure there was a somewhat high chance that he was luring you into a trap and then murdering you in some alley behind a Macy’s, but name one murderer who gave off the somewhat calm vibes that this guy was radiating. Actually, maybe not. God, America was weird.

“I’d be totally down for that!” You exclaimed, internally giggling at the fact that you were going to see the best places to get scammed. And to get to know your neighbor, of course. But you knew where your priorities lay. Ted laughed at your eagerness and nodded, taking out his car keys. Your eyes followed Ted as he made his way down the stairs, he stood on the second to last step, glancing up at you.

“Would tomorrow be good for you?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

[the-fab-fox]

Okay. So Imma just come out and say it.

Y'all who read fanfic. You. Need. To. Start. Commenting. On. Fics.

I have been told I'm a great writer. I've been told I'm spot-on with characterization. I've been told I'm great at making readers feel and experience what the characters are feeling and experiencing. Been told it's like the reader is in the room as everything plays out.

However, when I see that my fics have upwards of 1K hits and maybe 100-300 comments and maybe 40-100 kudos and not even hitting triple digits in the bookmarks/subscriptions to a fic... Well, what would you think in my shoes?

Most likely, if you're like me, you're thinking all kinds of negative things (especially if you have mental illness/ADHD/neurodivergency of some kind). Stuff like... Oh, those other people are just being nice (not fair to them so I try not to think this way but negative self talk doesn't play nice with me).

Or I think... Okay so they checked it out. They had to click on the fic for it to even register the hit, right? So why don't I at the very least have more kudos? That's the easiest option on there (though it's like a like on here; if you are gonna leave kudos please also leave a comment), right? So what was wrong with my fic that I don't have more kudos at least.

But then I get on here and see so many comments and reblogs on FANART (still not enough for them either though lbr). THE POINT IS... If you read a fic. If you read it and liked it, you all really need to start commenting.

It doesn't even have to be long paragraphs or quoting or any of the ✨ big comments ✨ stuff. You could leave an emoji that be showing me what my fic or update got you feeling. You can do keyboard smash. If the author asks for it, you can leave constructive criticism (but only if the author has actively asked for it; if they haven't or given you permission, then don't). You can absolutely do big comment things too.

One of my favorite type of comments to get are the quoting ones. You just copy/paste and then say what you liked about it or what it made you feel or your reaction to it. Things like that. I love when my readers tell me their fave parts in an update. Or quote a line and tell me their thoughts and feels. Just yes.

We are far too advanced in this day and age and fanfiction and fandom are wholly more accepting than it used to be but for some reason, comments and reactions have become almost non-existent compared to when I was 15. And I was... Pretty cringy in my writing back then but I can admit that. But every chapter I'd get at least 8-10 comments. A chapter!

Even earlier in my Twst series I was getting A LOT more comments and with every fic it seems to have dropped significantly.

To me, to my brain, that tells me that my writing is suddenly sucky or I lost my talent or I'm not actually as great a writer as I was told because then why aren't more people commenting.

You might try to argue and say you're shy. Do you comment on order things? Do you tack onto a reblog to put out some addition to the original post? Do you chat with people in the fandom? Do you comment on fanart?

Then what makes a fanfic any different? (This is not including smut fics because I get but necessarily wanting it tied back to you. But if you open ao3 in a browser you aren't logged into ao3 on, you can (as long as the author has allowed it) post a comment anonymously. Yeah!)

You might say oh well I don't have time to comment right now. But you had time to read the fic? You had time to reblog that shit post? You had time to comment on the tags on a fanart you really loved? Thing is, unless you want to write a long one, comments do not take that long to leave. They really don't.

If you're worried the author doesn't want to hear from you—I'll stop you right there. The author ABSOLUTELY wants to hear from you.

So now is the time to stop making excuses to be lazy. You are reading really great fan literature for free. The least you can do as a thank you and to show support is to COMMENT. ON. THE. FIC.

And if you wanna really make an author's day and help support them and their work, REC the fic. REC the Author's work list. You can do that to friends you know would like it or even better, make a post about the fics and link your recs.

It's really not that hard and we should not have to beg. Realize the blessing you have that fics you would enjoy exist for free and do your part. COMMENT.

[fallenhero-rebirth]

Got asked for some writing advice

How did you improve your writing specifically beyond 'just writing more'?

The first thing is to read different things from different genres. Read an old book, and see how that is written. Read a genre you normally don't read. Read some poetry. Go to the library and walk to a random book, open it in the middle and read. Read on paper, and out loud. And then read some more. And when you read, try to think about why you don't like or likes something. Is it boring? Why? Is it hard to understand? Why? What is it in the words you like? Does it feel good to read out loud? If it doesn't, why not?

A tip is to take a book you think is interesting. Take a paragraph from the middle at random, and write it down in a word document. Pay attention to how it feels to write. How are the sentences? Do they feel different from your own? Close the book and continue to write a few paragraphs. Does your style change? What is the difference between your paragraphs and the one above? Sentence length? Comma use? Does it make it better or worse

Another tip is to write down a bit of dialogue from a tv show or movie you like. There might be transcripts online even. Take that dialogue and write a scene with it. Especially if you find dialogue hard to sound natural this might be freeing. Or, you might even find that what sounded good on the screen looks terrible on paper when it's not said by a charismatic actor.

A third is to write fanfiction and try to make it as good as you can. Try to make it real, as if it might have been from the original source. Think about what it was you liked about it, and then try to imitate that and make your own story. Fanfiction gets a bad rep, but it is a great way to experiment with writing without having to come up with characters and a world. That way you can just focus on the language.

Would you have any tips regarding writing interesting characters? Mine are always very flat and bland OR 'mary sues'

First of all, there is nothing wrong with a "mary sue". The way this is used these days, it might as well mean "protagonist". If Batman or James Bond can get away with their shit, your protagonist certainly can too. And your characters will be flat at the start because a story consists of so many parts. You have your language, your plot, your world, your story rhythm. And when you are starting out, there's simply too many things to focus on. You won't get depth in all of them, and the characters are what you spot being flat first, because that's usually what attracts us to a story in the first place.

My characters were terribly flat when I started out, but I wrote short story horror so it didn't matter. Nobody read that for the characters.

A trick I have to try to get my characters to feel alive is to write arguments. Take two characters you have trouble with and let them talk. Argue about something. Be stuck in an awkward situation together. Don't bother writing anything but dialogue, never mind the actual scene. Just write them talking, and after a while you might get a feel for how they feel different from one another. Maybe they start talking about things about them that you didn't even know. Explore. Have fun. Have them say something weird. Something hurtful. Write reactions. Don't bother thinking if it's usable or not. I've written pages of dialogue just to get a feel for how people talk.

I usually build characters by combining archetypes. I start with one people will know immediately, then add another, and a third. They will be uncovered one at a time, adding depth. Let's take Ricardo Ortega for example. The first archetype is "the sexy leading man/hero". Then, we get to know what I fondly call "the himbo". And finally, we discover "the clever, sneaky asshole". I didn't need to bring in all those things at once, as long as I got writing the first archetype, people would be interested and intrigued when they learned about the new facets.

Would you have any tips on writing humor/banter? You're pretty dang good at it but I could never figure out how to be funny lmao all the jokes I write are Extremely Cringe.

Oh I wish. I honestly have no idea. I was terrible writing characters and dialogue. I think something clicked when I wrote massive amounts of DA2 fanfic, because that was a game which consisted of nothing but banter, so I tried to mimic it the best I could. I have never liked comedies or really understood humor, so I never try to be funny. It's the one part of my writing I truly does not understand, some of my characters are just like that.

What's your plot planning process like, if you have a consistent one? I can only figure out the very generic broad strokes but it falls apart as soon as I try to come up with details.

All plots are generic broad strokes. Rebirth is basically just emo protagonist monologues a lot, meets up with some old friends and proceeds to beat them up. That's it. All plots will look flat and boring in your head, because what makes a plot cool and interesting is that you don't know what's going to happen. You do. You're the author. So of course it will look flat and uninteresting in your head. The hardest thing is trying to ignore this.

My workaround to this is only knowing the barest of broad strokes. I know where I want to go, who the opposition is, some basic scenes that needs to be there (not in detail) and then I write and discover things as I go along. That is the only way for me to remain interested in the plot, if I had planned it in detail I'd get bored. And oh, sure, there's a lot of foreshadowing and hidden things in my writing, but that's only because I know some big things that's going to happen. It's not like I have sat down and detail planned every chapter, what things I need to plant there, and so on. A lot of the times I forget things, and have to go back and add them, and so on. I would say focus on the characters before the plot. If you manage to figure out how to write fun characters first, nobody will care if the plot is bland.

[simplyholl]

Although I was a constant lurker for months, today marks my one year as a Loki writer. It has been so fun whoring out with all of you. There have been too many laughs to count. By some miracle, I’ve reached a little over 1,000 followers. I’m shook that so many of you are interested in partaking in my wildest fantasies. But I am so thankful for all of you. If you have read, liked, commented, or reblogged anything - thank you from the bottom of my heart! I love reading every wild thing you have to say about these scenes I’ve created.

Sometimes I will just sit there and read your comments over and over in complete shock that my words would elicit such responses. I am so thankful for our little corner of the internet where we can unashamedly be ourselves. We all have different backgrounds, cultures, and lives but we can all agree we just want our favorite god to dick us down.

I’ve made lifelong friends from doing this, and I would’ve never met them otherwise.

@lokisgoodgirl Thank you for giving me the kick in the cooch I needed to start posting my writing. I would have none of this, if it wasn’t for you. Your words of encouragement mean everything to me. Thank you for being my tech expert for the first little bit. I would never give anyone else my login info. You’ve helped me get through some of the toughest times of my life and I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love listening to your voice notes. Your “Good morning” always puts a smile on my face. I hope we can meet in person one day, although I can’t promise that I would keep my hands to myself. I love you endlessly.

@wheredafandomat I only met you at the end of January, but it feels like I have known you my whole life. Is it possible for two people to share the same brain? Because I’m sure that we do. You can make a 2 hour phone call feel like 5 minutes. I’m lucky to have you in my life. My frequent collaborator and birthday twin - I love you so much.

I couldn’t think of a celebration that I wanted to do, but I wanted to share some of my favorite comments over the course of my time on here.

#burdened with a glorious manhood

-@coldnique

The threat to use his vibranium hand to do the choking was just the cherry on top of my death day cake. This is a filthy masterpiece

- @joyful-enchantress

Well spank me sideways, this went from O-deranged in 2.5 seconds AND I'M NOT MAD ABOUT IT

- @thedistractedagglomeration

Ohhhhhh he talks her out of her hero panties and in to his heart

- @cakesandtom

"sit on his face darling" l'm not gonna survive another paragraph I swear to god.this is too much in the best way

- @lokisgoodgirl

The thought of being an avenger and having Loki fuck you senseless is stupid hot, but add into it him talking about making you carry his secret sex baby and still be an avenger is 🔥🔥🔥

- @itsybitchylittlewitchy

Take that you little shit! I am so glad he saw them together and still mounted at that!

- @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed

I mean it's a fitting description after all the devil is tempting and so is Lokis dick

- @fictive-sl0th

You had me at President Loki and biting!

- @marygoddessofmischief

should have really realized that it was you, my dear, who wrote this!

- @smolvenger

I don't need legs, l'll just drag myself around.

- @goblingirlsarah

Spelling his....spelling his name.. ☠️☠️

- @lokisgoodgirl

absolute genius. i read the part about considering staying with him even if just for the sex and i was like "YOU GO Y/N GO GET THAT MULTIVERSAL ASGARDIAN DICK"

- @muddyorbsblr

Yeah Narfi you little bitch. Take that!

- @wheredafandomat

This was so naughty!!! When the vacuum fell and he was like, "fuck it" then continues to pound you harder!!! 🥵🥵🥵

- @mochie85

I neeeed a tall Loki to be my coworker for the job I don't have so he can fuck me in the storage closet

- @wheredafandomat

The best part of waking up is Bucky & Loki in your cup!! WAY better than Folgers.

- @km-ffluv

IT WAS PHENOMENAL. would have tears in my eyes with how proud I am if I wasn't so horny

- @lokisgoodgirl

Just for fun,

If anyone wants to give it a re-read, here’s the first fic I posted.

Snowed In

And this is actually the first thing I wrote

Across the Multiverse

It’s been a great year. I can’t wait to share more horny, unhinged, wild fantasies with you in the next one.

All my love,

-Holly 💚🖤

[fictionfixations]

masquerade malleus vignette

(spoilers for glorious masquerade)

aww

i refuse to believe lilia is oblivious enough not to notice that they dont like his cooking

..although solomon (from obey me) doesnt notice either iirc, but i mean..

..sebek. in a vignette, you literally got his help in cleaning a stain from malleus' labcoat???

...i never thought id hear azul say those words.... what?????

i dont know how it didnt hit me until now but the only reason rollo's plan in glorious masquerade failed was because he was so insistent on having malleus there and taking away all his power and shit?? like. cause. none of us had enough magic to actually overpower the fire lotuses(? i cant remember what they were called), although yuu would be able to make it through with no magic how could we even fight rollo at the end??

and at the point it reaches malleus and he could do something about it, it'd be too late?? because i REALLY doubt he has enough to reach all of those flowers and with enough to completely fry them out. and i doubt the bell would reach it by then.

silver...

is azul even human?? im like pretty sure-ish he's not human. not even half human. just entirely sea creature with a human-like body to probably be treated more normally and not hunted for sport/food through evolution shit idfk (like. idk im pretty sure its a thing where pets look so much cuter to cause us to take them in and shit.)

anyway im just imagining sebek talking azul's ear off about how great malleus is because he finally has a buddy who understands and therefore would be willing to listen to him talk for hours straight about malleus's greatness. AND APPRECIATE IT. HAUIHDSUIhd and azuls just like ………………….. floyd and jade laughing at him from a distance azul sets sebek on them like 'i think those two should come to learn about malleus's brilliance, don't you think? after all, as my colleagues, it is such a shame that they don't share my admiration for malleus, and i am unsure how to put it into words, as malleus himself is so magnificent that even words fail to describe him properly. so sebek, my fellow appreciator, would you lend me your aid in helping them grow to appreciate his brilliance?' okay i ran out of words and started repeating them because ic ant be bothered to look up for synonyms, im not THAT into it okay

ahhh so it is a fleur city song i wasnt sure. ive read in fics that it was, but it was also those fics where songs either have power, or yuu knows a bunch of disney songs that are considered 'forbidden/forgotten songs' or something like that and i cant remember which it was

actually if they put in all that work beforehand i think i get why they were so insistent on waiting for rollo to either confess or not AFTER the social ball and after they left and everything LMFAO

they suddenly changed into their school uniforms (still in diasomnia)

i honestly wouldnt know if id trust lilia that much but sure (i hope it doesnt turn to perfectionism levels tho)

first time we encounter italicized text i think. huh.

lmfao

oh my god (no but why choose idia at that point?? is it cuz his voice meshes well with them??)

ayoo its playing the make a wish (i think thats what the song is called) instrumental in the bg ive heard it way too many times not to recognize it (and sung along. its so fucking cool)

damn

my hands are actually protesting now ah geez (i took a break)

I GOT SO DISTRACTED BY DEUCE (i was re-experiencing enjoying looking at everyones costumes again) I AM AN IDIOT (its lower in opacity to show you that you're on it in the editor)

ooh

i didnt notice the insert paragraph im sorry lMFAO but id forget if i didnt SS it then

ooh some malleus riddle bonding

AH ITS A YUU JUMPSCARE

that seriously startled me like suddenly i just hear footsteps and then BOOM OPTIONS

ayooo malleus and yuu dancing

(alsoo yuu and deuce dancing :D)

WOOO

okay. now.

i feel like. im doing really good progress tackling all the vignettes (currently in EN. after that's GloMas, & Book 6 and 7. ive been avoiding it because not all of the Backgrounds exist, and GloMas has options with completely different dialogue which I can't see them all. i have three different videos of GloMas gameplay but they dont show all options...). all thats remaining is azul's tsumsitter (i have a vid of his vignette. ..i just dont like doing the tsum ones because i never know how to describe the tsum moving) vil birthday bloom (i FOUND A VIDEO finally oh my god. i love doing birthday vignettes) malleus dorm uniform (I have a vid) sebek new year (i have a vid) grim labcoat (i have a vid)

and then the rabbit costume ones which all of them have vignettes iirc and i have videos for all of them (i actually just found them as i was writing this. thank you god. they have no views tho geez. wonder if that means vil birthday bloom exists in a video but just wont appear. this is future me. ...i have been blessed with vil birthday bloom.)

[noeasyisnoisy]

‼️TBB S3 FINALE SPOILERS‼️

why is the music ominous.

THE LOGO IS BLACK (did that happen before and i missed it?)

please tell me they won’t all die

this is terrifying

“guard the vault” THERE SO MANY OF THEM

OMG NALA SE

YES EMERIE‼️‼️‼️

yes omega they’re here but they’re not quite HERE yet 

oh god the times don’t line up

THE TIMES DONT LINE UP

SHES FKNNA ESCAPE AND NOBODY WILL BE THERE

OR SHES GONNA ESCAPE AS ECHOS GETTING THERE ISNT SHE

LMFAOOOOO THEY KNOCKED THAT BITCH OUR

isn’t that tunnel dangerous?? like omega almost got SMACKED a million times

they’re all force sensitive though so it makes sense

if wrecker passes out or smth they’re all screwed

OMG THE KIDS ARE OUT

TURN AROUND 

the fucking timing AHHDJFKFEHD

im so stressed

IF THAT BABY DOESNT SHUT UP

i’m sorry

i love kids but THIS ISNT THE TIME

OH FUCK THE ZILLO BEAST

HELP THAT CUT OFF (the zillo beast screaming and then emerie)

YALL SEE ECHO??

“the zillo’s loose!” echo: 🤨

ok at least emerie’s job is to find them

“omega.. she released the zillo” “how do you know that?” “because that’s exactly what i’d do.” STOP IT.

YOU KIDS BETTER FUCKING RUN

ECHO HUNTER CROSSHAIR HURRY

HIS HAND 💔

wrecker you’re not fine.

crosshair you can’t with your hand

clone force 99 is dead

i

i’m just

i’m gonna go cry now

CROSSHAIR YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOURE UP AGAINST

“it’s what i deserve” SHUT UP

“we do this together” YAAAAA

“echo’s handiwork? or omega’s?” “omega.” HELP

THE OPERATORS PLAYING

IS THAT TECH

I COULDNT TELL

holy fuck

THERES 4 OF THEM???

also hemlock looked so cool with the red lights and the smoke

HOLY FUCK THE 4 GUYS

that guy has to be tech because HES ALWAYS THE MAIN FOCUS

crosshair is you sacrifice yourself istg

HUNTER

NO

UR JOKING

HE DIDNT

HE CUT OFF HIS HAND??

NO FUCKING WAY

THEY GOT THEM

emerie and echo u need to start SPRINTING

OH FUCK

ECHO

YAYAYAYAY

THE HUG STOP ☹️

STOP TORTURING THEM

me bc hunter has heightened sense which means the electricity hurts even more than it already would

SHUT THE FUCK UP HEMLOCK

IF THEY KILL CROSSHAIR ISTG

STOP ELECTROCUTING HIM YOU FUCKING BASTARD

cry count: 2

the fact that nobody has plot armor is terrifying

YES OMEGA BREAK EVERYONE OUT

nala se’s gonna die isn’t she

RAMPART WHAT ARE YOU DOING

ughdhdh tarkin

TARKINS SHOWING UP???

i’m so scared

my heart is POUNDING

nala se what’re you up to queen

is rampart gonna kill her

NO FUCKING WAY

wrecker’s waking up

omega sees them

ok

we got this!!

THE POP UP WALLS HELLO?

cmon omega free them

WHY IS THAT GUY JS STANDING THERE

HOLY FUCK THEY STABBED HIM

oh shit she’s gonna die

HEMLOCK GET OUT

NONONONONONO THE GAS

rampart stfu

HE KILLED NALA SE

LMFAO HE DIED TOO

ok but tbb minus echo aren’t in the gas

YES WRECKER.

KILL THOSE HOES

NO HES TAKING OMEGA

HUNTER

YES WRECKERRR

DID HE JS KILL MAYBE TECH

ok so i guess it’s not tech

i’m crying again why the fuck am i crying

HEMLOCK LET GO OF HER

WHY ARE THE OPERATIVES NOT DYING

IM SO SCARED RN

CROSSHAIR

LET OMEGA GO YOU BITCH

ALSO WET HAIR HUNTER MEOWOWOWOWOW HES SO FINEEEE

stab him omega

you got this crosshair.

im bawling rn

YES

THAT WAS SO SMOOTH

now hug.

AWWW

i’m sobbing

THEY MADE IT

THEY DID IT

holy shit they left right as the empire got there

that’s actually terrifying

YESSSSS RESEARCH IS GONE

PROJECT STARDUST OMG

THE DEATHSTAR

THATS SO COOL

AWWW EMERIE ☹️

i’m sobbing again

THAT WAS SUCH A PERFECT ENDING

oh it’s not over

ADULT OMEGA

SHUT UP

GONKY

GRANDPA HUNTER

why is he such a dilf hello

sorry

“you’re our kid omega”

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I CANT

TECHS GOGGLES

OK NOW THAT WAS THE PERFECT ENDING 

i’m gonna go type a paragraph 💔

[the-way-astray]

im sure youre bored with asks about your rant, sorry. but i can't wait to see you tear into unlocked, HIS POV

he sucks so much and the fact that people read his thoughts and still like and love him is crazyy to me

i'm not bored at all, anon! i like it when people talk to me about my rant.

i actually started my unlocked novella rant! fun fact: that's actually the reason i posted only the first eight books separately. i was originally going to wait and post the entire thing after unraveled's release, and i got through the first eight books at a reasonable pace, so i started the unlocked novella thinking i'd get through it even faster because it's only sixteen chapters, right? but no. i was so wrong. it was just so. much. too much. like i'm not kidding when i say i had something to say about keefe like every paragraph of that novella. it was overwhelming as shit and slowing me way down because i couldn't even get through a page of his pov without writing down like a page of rant material.

eventually i stopped because i decided i needed to lay some ground rules about what not to include to make sure that i wasn't just saying effectively the same thing over and over again and running it into the ground. but then, i was also like, but isn't the point of this format of rant to include all of keefe's worst moments and aren't i taking away from that by cutting stuff out, even if it's repetitive? and i didn't know how to resolve that, so my solution was just. do it later. and then i put it down and never got back to it. so that's how much stuff i have to say about keefe in unlocked, lmfao.

he does suck indeed (in my opinion)! it's insane to me, too. i can honestly say i have no clue how people manage to still like him, but then again, he is a fictional character, not a real person, and sometimes likable qualities or a well-written character arc aren't as important to people as relatability, and i'm sure there are many people that relate to him or his trauma.

anyway because you seem eager, have a few excerpts from my unlocked novella rant. just for you, anon:

“[ . . . ] Keefe could feel Fitz’s sour guilt swirling through the air.” (555) Not only was Fitz actively trying to help Keefe feel better, but he also felt bad about reading Keefe’s mind to do it. Keefe had no good intentions with his comment about Sophie and Fitz’s breakup (he literally just did it to rile Fitz up), and didn’t even feel sorry about it afterward. So why do I never see people talking about that, whereas Fitz is questioned for his actions here?

“‘[ . . . ] because you end up making the damage permanent.’ ‘I’m not damaged—’ ‘You’re right. That was the wrong word.’” (556) What the heck??? This always pisses me off so much every time I read it. Keefe purposefully twists Fitz’s words to make it seem like he said something he wasn’t. He made it seem as if Fitz was launching a personal attack on him for his new abilities, where Fitz was simply stating that Keefe would end up with permanent physical damage if he didn’t take his medicine and rest. Just for reference, Sophie said the exact same thing to Keefe in Nightfall and he didn’t immediately accuse her of personally attacking him. So there are some double standards there. But then. Fitz actually coddles Keefe and says that he was right, and claims that he used the “wrong word”. Wow. I- The way everyone in this series just bends to Keefe’s will however little or much sense it makes infuriates me. What the heck, Keefe. Grow a fucking spine. It’s just a word. Why does he have to complain and whine about everything all the time???

“[ . . . ] until Fitz had to go and prove that he was the worst best friend in the history of best friends by asking, ‘Okay, but . . . what about the mimicking?’” (560) He’s the worst best friend because he brought all the information to the table? Wow. And no, Fitz isn’t the worst best friend ever. Keefe is. He takes pleasure in seeing Fitz angry and sad. I can’t imagine a more subtly degrading and manipulative friend to have than Keefe.

“[ . . . ] Fitz told her—because he was begging for a face-punch. And if the world hasn’t gotten so spinny, Keefe might’ve given it to him [ . . . ]” (561) Fun fact, Keefe had an entire moral dilemma in Flashback over the fact that he feels like violence comes easier to him than most other elves. Sophie had to spend an entire forced consolation scene basically lathering him up because he has no fucking spine. So here’s an inconsistency with Keefe’s character right here. He should’ve felt really freaked out by this thought right here because it’s an example of his “violent tendencies” coming out. But he doesn’t. He moves past it like it’s nothing. More proof that Keefe never actually worried about that and Shannon just needed something for Sophie to comfort Keefe over. It never actually amounts to anything of actual value with regards to his arc or story. 

“‘Uh, for the record, most of the emotions are coming from you, Fitzy. You wouldn’t happen to have some unresolved feelings for anyone in this room, would you?’” (561) Keefe continues to purposefully try to provoke Fitz and hurt him for no other reason than that he enjoys seeing his best friend in pain. Why can’t he keep his nose out of other people’s business? Why does he have to be so cruel? Why is Fitz still best friends with this pond scum? All he does is annoy, embarrass, and act cruel toward his supposed “friends”. Why do people like this guy??? He is so toxic, so subtly degrading, so deceptively manipulative, it blows my mind. Does he have something against treating people nicely or something?

“If Fitz’s grumpy resentment had been the only emotion churning around the room, Keefe would’ve let him stand there and stew in it—maybe even made another joke to amp it up. But Foster’s feelings were such a brutal mix of hurt, heartache, and humiliation that he had to mumble, 'Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant—’” (562) What an upstanding guy. What an awesome best friend. When I purposefully say something cruel to make my best friend feel bad, he can take it. But when my crush feels bad? However will she like me if I’m mean to her? It’s just another example of Keefe’s tendency to be cruel for no reason, as well as his obsession with Sophie. He knew he made Fitz feel bad, but he actually considered making it worse. Wow. And “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded” is just a straight-up lie. He meant it to be cruel, and that’s what it came out as. So in case you think Sophie and Keefe’s relationship is built on any sort of trust or mutual comfort, think again. He just tried to gaslight her. Again.

[shayshaybiscuit25]

Goodness me, my original ask started some mess I see. 😅

Shay this is a bit long, but I think I make decent points & dropped some truth bombs that everyone can agree with regardless of how they feel. Thank you all for reading and ……..here we go……… 🫣😮‍💨

Let’s begin……..for those who really believe Chris is racist or ain’t shit for associating with these fools……why be here at all?

As mentioned before, many of us believe this is PR and understand we do NOT know details. On the outside looking in it’s very easy to go “omg why didn’t he just end this, he’s just like them”, yet we also understand Hollywoood is a business, yes?

We understand complex things go on behind the scenes that look so simplistic and easy to us from our limited perspective.

Yes, I understand things look awful, but I need people to understand we don’t know what the hell is truly going on and I say that because it’s clear as day that something is off.

Look if Chris were selling this and acting like nothing was wrong then everyone would be losing their minds, and she would have ammo, but enough stuff has happened where you can see he doesn’t like her, he’s performing and that’s probably why he’s acting has switched up (having to horribly act in real life is affecting his actual craft) there are numerous holes in the cheese 🧀 of course the question stems…..then why marry the girl especially knowing she has racist friends…….please go back and refer to the previous and third red paragraphs.

We might not know details but we know Chris isn’t comfortable in this arrangement, of course many reading will roll their eyes at this statement, okay fair. 🙄

I’ll do you all one better, karma is real and for those that aren’t aware. Yesterday Justin (the wife’s soulmate) stood up for one of his racist friends in a post. He has some female friend on a Big Brother type show in Europe and the girl has been recorded on camera doing the damn Nazi Salute and people are pissed…..Justin’s dumbass makes a post basically saying the girl (his friend) doing the Nazi salute is “misunderstood” and a good person or some crap……. The entire time I’m like…..let me sit back and see how this plays out…..and if it gets tied back to Evans, I doubt it but let’s see. 👀 🧋 (this emoji represents me sipping my boba “tea”) 🤭

Chris does need to be called out and if this shitshow goes public public to the point the general population learns what fans know and it becomes a big deal, you’d better believe we’d end up getting a BUA and then some within mere hours or days (remember his response to the bomb pic)……do i believe any of that will happen…..nope. And if that went down like that, I’d question his ass even more.

No one here has issue with people calling Chris out, it’s those who act like they know more than they do, who take their own opinions as facts and are 100% sure he’s racist and calling him pedo or whatever else that has me like……well damn if you think that’s true and hate him that much…….then leave. I would not waste my time on a person I truly thought was evil and vile.

See, I care about this man and as time goes by we see truth and some of us see what we want while ignoring the rest, apply that as you will, come next month, I think people will finally end up determining their final thoughts on things and if it ends with “fuck Chris Evans”, then so be it. He made his bed and now he’s laying in it.

Eventually we’ll all find out the truth if it’s real or if this is all bs and the pr eventually ends…..well just know they’ve parted ways and many will still claim it was real.

I say don’t get overly invested in this emotionally, but TOO LATE! 😬 This could be the situation Chris needs to be and do better and finally own his awful choices or to take and not run from accountability (remember how we’d always use to get Dodger pics when he did something stupid publicly) or it could be a situation he’s initiated that went out of control and he has to FINALLY reap the consequences of his actions/inactions. I don’t know what is going to happen next, but if him and Mrs. Shower scrubber do anything else other than breakup next month, it’s a wrap on my end.

Yeah I think it’s pr, but I have limits and he’s on his 73892929 strike. Keeping it honest, most of us should have left once he claimed to be “married”, yet we’re still here, so yeah can’t no one point any fingers. We’re all still here hoping something ends up making sense and to hope our fav actor really isn’t out here playing in our faces.

It’s very easy to go well Chris is this and that due to this situation, but once one starts remembering in detail everything that’s happened, part of you goes…….something is 110% off here. @anneslibrary is a great reference because it’s so easy to forget how much things don’t make sense and that blog helps people see the big picture and go……yeah…..I’m not falling for this bs. 😂 So to sum it up, yes many of us are pissed at Chris, but his saving grace is that there are so many holes in this mess that it’s easy to jump and attack him without knowing details and so we’re hoping more details arise to the point we can go……yeah this 100% is fake and was never real, he got looped in some mess and only discovered things once the fandom did but it was too late and I’m glad it’s finally over. Okay….yes I’m reaching like crazy, but you’re still here reading my long as diary entry, right. 😉 For me September 2024 will be thee month I decide if I’ll permanently walk away. If they do any more crap, I’m done, point blank.

Enough is enough. I do understand those pissed and wondering why we’re still here…..I’ve been a fan of this man for years and it’s not so easy to walk away, call it excuses, but I just don’t think this situation is a grand total of who he is but if I’m proven wrong then it is what it is, but I don’t think I’m wrong.

Chris needs to take accountability and ending this bs would be the first step and then we can all judge in grand detail how he handles the aftermath of shit, would he give clues to show it wasn’t real, will he do a grand gesture that is a lowkey apology to the fandom…..doubt it, but I refuse to believe this mess is legit, unless he’s proven with legit detail (other than he publicly claims to be married, yet there’s no evidence he’s actually gotten married other then a oversized ring and orchestrated bs) that he’s just a shitty racist husband who can’t keep his eyes to himself and really married her and if so then I’ll GLADLY FINALLY move on with my life. Noted. And yes those snarky few of you still reading, I’m in the denial phase of the grieving process. 😂

Either way ya look at it Chris doesn’t get of Scotch free and even if this does end next month……too much damage has been done. Part of me is here because I’m watching a train that already crashed multiple times and I’m wondering if it’s going to keep going with limited damage or will it eventually blow up into pieces.

I hope I was able to make you guys laugh, piss you off and in the end make you go, yep you summed up my multiple thoughts. 🤗🫠 or you’ve probably read all of this and went, this bitch is crazy, I’ll take it because you still sat here and read to the end so,….. Hi crazy! 😝

I’m done now. 😆 thanks!

Oh Sweetheart this was beautiful and longggggggggggggggg but so beautiful.

Thank you.

[the-clay-quarters]

Okay this took me three days bcus I spent Way too long thinking about it but! here's my guys in @t6fs' template!

The only bit of this that was left blank for non character reasons is the dreams- I avoid all the dream cards in game to avoid nightmares, so I don't really know the vibes oops. Oh, and the key items are distinctive things they carry regularly, excluding things they'd own at home. Otherwise, detail bits under the cut! I ended up with a lot of notes and wanted to ramble, it's really fuckin long <3

Silverstein

"His" pet is Pembroke's Half-Wild Mandrake (from bag a legend). They both agree that it is still hers, it's just hard to take care of in the middle of the city so it lives out with him. Otherwise, he keeps no pets.

Apathetic but also opinionated: On most things, he's very apathetic, simply agreeing with other people's decisions. On the other hand, though, he is strongly revolutionary and aiming for a lot of change... Not that he'd tell you that, not that you should know.

Dreams: It's canon that clay men can't dream :( No rights

Habitat: He likes being out and about, he spends most of his day out in the streets. He does a lot of "low skill" but high strength work, like moving services or construction.

Both hot/cold and coffee/tea are Neither for clay man reasons: Very high and cold temperatures cause him issues in different, equally annoying ways, and he can't eat/taste either, so no preference on food or drink.

Items: The gloves are clay stained, actually, and primarily on the inside. He started collecting first city coins for heart's desire and just has a habit of keeping some on him now. Horse head amulet... fear of death and uncertainty about the particulars of clay men :)

Flower, white rose: Did you know all the funky coloured roses (ie blue or rainbow) are made by dying white ones? :)c

Animal, saint bernard: Big but fairly gentle and lazy, would be a guard dog if asked but is mostly content to just sit

Element, rock slide: Change! Upheaval! Rocks :3

Pembroke:

The pet is her hunting dog, lovely lil thing <3 She doesn't keep many pets as she's a very busy person (and wouldn't want to put that on her poor housekeeper) but a good dog is always useful.

Rude-polite range is because she defaults to, and is usually, quite polite but often is also overcome with the need to be an absolute lil shit. Duality of man <3

Lodgings: Rooms above an ex-bookshop, now her tailoring shop!

Enemies: See: habit of being a chaotic lil shit. Apparently people don't like it when you think their party is too boring and try to spice it up smh

Items: A wedding ring with no match. A pocket watch to keep a tight schedule. A weapon of some sort, picked from a diverse collection. A travel sewing kit for rogue buttons and popped stitches. A hat pin, back up weapon :)

Flower, green dahlia: .......This one's mostly a pun off of Delia ngl

Animal, borzoi: Fancy and elegant looking, but still a hunting dog. Pretty but vicious~

Vincent:

The pet listed is a frost-moth but they have so. many. bugs. The phosphorescent scarabs are also pets. They have spiders. They keep any and every type of bug to either study or have as a pet. Please never visit their flat if you don't like bugs.

Gender: Bureaucratic misunderstanding. They filled out various forms wrong when they were first travelling to the neath, rolled with the neutral pronouns, realised they like it more than they probably should, and simply refused to think about that at all

Logic-emotion range is them trying to lead with logic but also having high anxiety

Lawful-chaotic and apathetic-opinionated are also anxiety, honestly. Though, for the latter, they are just quiet about their more out-there opinions, especially in the realm of politics. It's a culture thing kinda sorta, if I get into that here it'll add like 3 paragraphs at least.

Cultural identity: Catalan! Very proud of that! But won't default to that and will usually say they're Spanish. I can't get into that for the exact same reasons as the last point oops

Allies: This guy ☝ is depressed and isolating themself

Remember vs forget: When you're this far from home, your culture comes just from your own memories that you can't afford to lose. But also fuck wouldn't it be nice to simply forget the things causing you anxiety.

Items: Big round glasses to counter their shortsightedness. Bugs. Anti spider goggles that aren't prescription, both because they were originally lent and because they don't usually need to see very far with them on. Catholic rosary, worn under their shirt. Bugs. Surface currency, specifically Spanish pesetas, sent from their parents. Bugs. Bugs. More bugs.

Flower, forget me nots: Blue, anxiety coded, pretty <3

Animal, mantis: Awkward looking, vibes <3 Also, specifically hierodula papua bcus it's blue!

[anti-endo-safe-space]

If endos were real, their experiences would be entirely separate from our community's and would most likely require separate terms in many ways. As well as the fact that we are...trauma survivors. Getting told your experiences aren't real sucks for anyone, but when you add on the layer of trauma especially with how all trauma has struggles with denial but especially in CDDs, you'd think endos would acknowledge that yeah, our needs might be a bit more important.

If endos were real, their experiences would be NOTHING like ours. So their insistence on sharing a space, sharing terms, being accepted by us trauma survivors (which can often warp a lot of things and obvs make us all sensitive to many things), and we must sacrifice our boundaries to accept them. We MUST share with them. We MUST accept them. Us even putting "endos dni" regardless of our stance is equivalent to terrible things to them. And then have the audacity to call us bigots, traumascum, and sysmeds.

For...wanting a space for us and our experiences. Especially when a lot of people don't even believe in our trauma or disorders. When many professionals don't even believe in us. You'd think if endos actually cared, they would put us forth and also try to support us instead of ignoring boundaries, being angry that we want a separate space, and being upset. (All under the hypothetical that endogenics are a real concept and do exist.)

But no. Instead they insist on encroaching on our space, using the same terms, spreading misinformation, playing the victim, and guilting and manipulating to be accepted (which says a lot of they claim to be a minority since...that's not how minorities fight for acceptance. At all. It's not about guilt or using terms like "sysmed" to shame people.)

If they were real, you'd think they would be able to understand the importance of trauma survivor spaces. Our system also has NPD and ASPD and yeah, being pushed out of trauma spaces because of stuff like "narcissist abuse" and all sucks so yes, having limited trauma spaces for CDDs also sucks as endos take it over. Trauma spaces are important and yet they want to take over ours, mimic our experiences, use all the same words. They'll say they do no harm, but they do. When CDDs already have so little thanks to endos in the past and the harm that Empowered Multiplicity did to purposefully make it harder for us. For endos to claim our experiences, claim they're similar, claim to be able to use our terms, and to place their own experiences above ours is fucking insulting. Especially for the endos that say they have trauma too. Then you should KNOW how important spaces like this are. If endos were real, we should NOT have shared spaces because the experiences will NEVER be the same.

Endos, even if real, will never face the same kinds of things we do. They will NEVER know what it's like to have an experienced formed from trauma and have it be entirely fucking denied.

Would love (sarcastically) to see if they tried this shit with other disorders. I'm sure some have, but if it were as big as endos vs CDDs are, that would really fucking show everything and how fucking disgusting endos can be.

(again when I mention endos being real, purely a hypothetical "what if" thing to show how their intense desire to share space and be accepted by us traumagenics is completely fucking harmful and ableist all the same. trauma survivor spaces especially for specific disorders are so important. yet instead they want to prioritize their own so much that people have to literally say "this is not for you endos" when talking about their shit.)

Going paragraph by paragraph because we figured might be easier to do lol.

You'd think that. I know we hope that IF they did exist they'd understand that. Trauma survivors get told so often that if it wasn't "bad enough" (any trauma is enough and shouldn't happen) that more and more doubt if they're real and valid and it's horrible. Endos we've seen only make it worse by goingi "oh yeah that ain't bad enough your just one of us uwu"

They'd be absolutely nothing like ours. If they did somehow exist, they'd have no need for a persecutor or a protector or a trauma holder. They'd have no need for alters who literally HAVE to try and keep everyone safe from trauma. They seem to be convinced that if your anti endo you want them dead. That's not true. I know we just hope they can get help because if they do believe that there is other people WITHOUT any sort of trauma then they need to get help because that's a different disorder. The worst thing we've found about traumascum and sysmed is they're taking words used for transmedicalists and are using it as if systems aren't a mental disorder

They're the type to believe that if you don't want them in your space, then your horrible. That if you decide you want a place away from them then your evil. Like if you said "hey we don't hate endos, they've just caused us pain before so can endos not interact" they take that as you bringing harassment. If endos were real and cared, they'd be willing to try and help us, not make it worse

We actually once saw an endo trying to justify needing a protector because they "needed to be protected from sysmeds". Like no. If your so desperate to be a part of us, make your own terms. Don't take ours and use our space. Minorities will fight for equality yes, but not by shaming people like that or trying to manipulate everyone.

We get that. We highly suspect some of us having NPD. And the amount of anti-endo spaces we've seen that absolutely ban anyone with NPD from interacting is huge. We will reiterate this from previous posts, narcissistic abuse DOES NOT EXIST. A disorder is not abusive! People are! With endos trying to take over the few spaces that aren't like that, they're trying to take more and more away from people who need the spaces for their disorders. It's why yes, we believe racism can be for any race but white people shouldn't be in BIPOC spaces talking about how bad they have it because it will NEVER be the same. They are two compltely different things. (we know we brought in two completely different subjects but it's one of the best views we can think of rn)

If endos exist, they will never understand what it's like to have different alters be something like violent because of trauma they had. They don't know what it's actually like and never will

We have seen some try to compare it with disorders and we found a good one. Take PTSD. A literal TRAUMATIC disorder. If someone went "oh yeah I don't have trauma but I have PTSD" people would be PISSED. They'd be up in arms. Even when it originally wasn't considered just a simply traumatic disorder (used to be shell-shock). What's the difference there? Because one says trauma in the name? Dissociative disorders come from trauma, not just CDD's.

We fully get that and we wanted to say thank you for clarifying (and we're sorry if we came across rude in the last ask you sent, we struggle imensly with social cues).

[hegoeshardasfuck]

shake it left, shake it right (fuck me through the night)

wordcount: 1K

tags: established relationship, mating cycles/in heat, hair pulling, biting, rough sex, porn with some plot

synopsis: Riff gets his shit fucking rocked

note: this one goes out to the Trolls fans, I see u, I hear u, heres some smut for the girlies with no Ao3 account. wrote this before i fully grasped the intensity of Floyd's queer-coding so uh, ignore the very starting paragraphs. if you enjoy consider dropping a like or checking the Ao3 port

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52567057

The last time Floyd slept with a guy was when he was nineteen. He sort of decided to swing straight away after that, going after women because they were dying at his feet whether he liked it or not. Why not make use of that knowledge, just to see where it would get him.

It got him surrendered to Velvet and Veneer by a group of K-pop Trolls that had him absolutely enraptured is where it got him. A kiss, some tantalizing words he did not understand, and he'd be willing to go anywhere they asked him too. And that was used against him, brought to Mount Rageous and used as a drug for talent.

He retreated to Rock the second he could, his home away from home. The one place he felt safe enough to shed his vest despite gnarled scars from varying origins. Where he could tell dumb horny jokes with an impossibly explicit vocabulary and get an uproar of laughter instead of offended gasps. Where he could just be, even with Pop origins he felt a lot better in Rock.

Apparently he felt safe enough to slip into heat, a cycle he was sure he couldn't attain anymore considering the whole 'life force drained' thing that happened. But he could, and he wakes up with this twist in stomach and he obeys the heat under his skin before he can think about it.

"Riff," It's this long, expectant, whiny sound clawing it's way out of Floyd's throat. He slings himself against the drummer who near instantly picks up the heady scent, it makes him shiver.

"Yeah?" Riff answered with.

"It's that time of the month, no ones around," He keeps his words on Riff's ear, hand wrapping around his boyfriends tail, it twitches and furls. He's purring, a deep rumble in his chest he hasn't been able to shut off all morning. This was inevitable, he decides, having sex with his boyfriend of many months. The heat spurred it on just a bit, but it's been on his mind for a very long while.

Riff gives this nervous sound, this almost nervous sound, "I got a show babe."

Floyd lurches back from Riff, "How long is it gonna take?"

"Not super long, the average length," Riff answered with, "And then, after the show, we can do it."

"You can swear you know," Floyd answered with, he had the audacity to cock a hand on his hip. The motion made Riff freeze, a short circuit in his brain, "Just say fuck, it's hot."

"You're hot," was all Riff could supply in response to the statement.

===

It's Riff whose bending over backwards for Floyd.

It's Riff whose begging and pleading due to whatever freaky mode the heat put Floyd into it.

It's Riff whose losing a semblance of sanity and control under his boyfriend even though he was sure it'd be reverse.

"Say it again, louder," Floyd prompted, hands tracing across Riff's front as he went, tactfully sliding away from wherever it would spark pleasure. Avoiding any and every where that he guessed would make Riff go insane, just for fun, to get a grasp on what he'll be working with.

There's heavy panting before Riff can even form a syllable, "Please," It's a choked sound followed by a euphoric note as Floyd scrapes over those soft expanses of flesh with dulled claws. The motion leaves a searing trail of pleasure behind even as the same hand wrenches into Riff's hair at the base and yanks. He jerks further back against his crazed boyfriend and he's still heaving his breaths, near writhing.

"Good boy," The words ghost against Riff's neck alongside teeth so sharp they have to be artificial (they aren't, they aren't, they aren't, and Riff fucking loves his boyfriends fangs). He partially sinks down, swiping pin prick fangs across flesh and reveling in the way Riff's breath hitches in time with the hand working him.

The adrenaline from the show has long since been replaced, something entirely different rushing through Riff. Initially, Floyd was running hot, an impossible amount of degrees hot for a Pop Punk Troll. Now Riff feels like every single inch of his body is on fire, sparks bursting under his skin and barely appeased by the touch that Floyd is offering him.

He's ravenous, he barely registers himself as such with those softly spoken words worming into his brain. They're sugary sweet, probably because Floyd is Pop Punk, they make his brain feel full of cotton candy. All stuffed up and turning a blank whenever he tries to bring himself to beg louder so Floyd will hurry the fuck up and give him everything.

This should be reversed, deep in the roots of Riff's desperation he knows it should be the other way. That Floyd should be the one bitching and moaning and begging and pleading, but it isn't. No, Floyd is just barely edging Riff closer, holding onto him like he's a lifeline, nails digging into flesh. It's oddly euphoric, to be nearly torn into but not quite, to be nearly bit but not quite, it just shoots him into an entirely different state.

"C'mon sweetheart," Floyd urges quietly, words a snarl against Riff's ear, "You can cum for me."

He does nothing to shift his ministrations, nothing to speed up or slow down. Nothing at all aside from a tightening grip in Riff's hair, and apparently that's all it takes with the words to jolt him over the edge. His body jerks but Floyd holds him perfectly still, fangs still tracing over the crux of his throat, resting at his pulse. He doesn't let go even with the slick dripping down to his thighs, his breathing is labored yet quiet, a soft susurrus sound.

"Holy," Riff pauses to catch his breath, his entire body is shaking more than he thought possible, "Holy fuck."

"Ready for round two?" Floyd asked, already tracing along Riff's inner thigh expectantly.

Riff swallows thickly, "Round two?"

"I'm gonna be jacked up for a long time, Riff," Floyd purred, tapping his nails a little further up his boyfriends thigh, "If you need to get some water go ahead, but we'll be right back at it the second you enter this room."

Riff shudders at the snarled promise because he knows Floyd will go through.

[tennessoui]

I think the therapy questions at the end of the chapters are what really twist the knife for me. Their feelings are so close but their reactions are so differentand they are blind to the other and themselves. Are we going to see Sheari's reaction to the question packet or have her bring up their answers in a session, might be a good way to shake out some rational thought from The Team

the questions at the end are probably like one of my favorite formatting/storytelling decisions i've ever made for a fic ever, so im glad that people are really enjoying them too -- they're a great way to cut through the bullshit of what obi-wan and anakin are saying to each other or those around them (even when they're trying to be honest) and get right down to the very, very, vulnerable truth of the matter that they would never actually say aloud

(from a writing perspective, sure, they could say it out loud - after all, there have been moments of pure honesty between obi-wan and anakin already during fights or during reconciliations, but even that honesty pales in comparison to what the questionnaire says. the answers to the questionnaire are like. unspeakable levels of honesty. you write that shit in a diary levels of honesty. having one of them try to share it in a conversation out loud would, imo, sound clunky and overly dramatic like grandiose declarations that don't fit into natural dialogue......but adding them at the end of each chapter forces the reader into the pov of the counselor for a few paragraphs, reading it for the first time and getting only the absolute, vulnerable truth from the two clients and going damn these guys are sorta insane)

i'm not sure yet what role i want their answers to have in the actual sessions they attend - i don't know how i'd write obi-wan or anakin really actually sitting through and allowing sheari to read their answers out loud in a room that contains the guy they were thinking about. i think it would feel like some sort of betrayal at first. but maybe after they've had many sessions? or maybe if she only read out a bit or asked them to expand on a few points they made?

i'm torn because you're right it would be a good way to cut through their bullshit and show them both that 'hey, this is how he feels about you when he's just alone with his thoughts and being completely honest. how does that make you feel?'

but at the same time would that burn more bridges than it built?

i imagine sheari asked for a second copy from each of them with more detail because she wanted to read through and take notes on 'problem areas' that she could then bring up separately (ie, they have problems in their sex life, let's have a whole session revolving around sexual and romantic intimacy)

but then she probably just highlighted like. every question lol good luck sheari my beloved