#mmmm this was cathartic to write

[floral-hex]

I JUST WANNA FUCKing be held oh god oh please I am yearning

[shiningshenanigans]

Finally watched all of the Doctor Who 60th anniversary specials! They were honestly some of the most enjoyable/cathartic things I've watched all year!

I've never considered myself a Whovian, but I did have a very brief, very intense hyper-fixation on David Tennant's era back in 2014-ish. I intentionally dipped out of the fandom because the end of Tennant's run just gutted me so much. I spot-watched a few episodes with Matt Smith after that, but I couldn't bring myself to get invested any further. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the show; it just seemed to repeat the same pattern of love and loss over and over again, and I wasn't in a place where I could emotionally handle consuming media like that. At some point I was just like, "Mmmm, nope, this show is too sad - too much content, not for me, not gonna get invested any further than this byeeeee"

(Side note: weirdly enough, if anyone's read this post about the reaction I had recently to the Loki season 2 finale, my reaction to Ten's last episode was actually really similar, so... these things came out at a really appropriate time).

Something in my heart clicked back into place when I finished that third episode, like an old wound that I forgot I had was finally healed. Seeing the Doctor sitting at a table, surrounded by people he loves, enjoying a meal, perfectly at peace, finally getting a moment to breath and enjoy "the one adventure he can never have"… wow. What delightful way to wrap up Tennant's brief return, especially when you compare it to how he went out the last time.

I just think it's so awesome how tragic stories always right themselves eventually, even if it takes 10-20 years. We just can't seem to leave them alone until we're sure that everything is healed and made right in the end. It's almost like we're built for restoration (lol, I say almost, like I don't know--we are built for restoration, that's it, no doubt about it). Russel T Davies, thank you for writing a little bit of comfort into this weary world for the people who enjoyed your work back in the day! These episodes were a gift!

[here2bbtstrash]

oo there are a lot of interesting questions! i want to put a lot here but answer whichever you want! sorry lol. 3, 5, 10, 17, 18, 19, 25, 26, 32. 10 is so interesting bc i have definitely felt it with some especially yandere fics.

eeeee i will do the ones i didn't just answer for moni 🤭

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

this hasn't always been the case but lately my "ritual" for writing specifically smut is: on my phone, in bed, while nearly asleep. then i wake up the next morning and scroll back through it like 😳😳😳 good god lmfao. i think maybe the censors in my brain just kinda turn off bc i'm so close to sleeping???? idk but it's given good results imo 🫡

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

mmmm i swear by long walks when i find myself stuck on a scene. i'll put in music that fits the vibe and just let my brain rapid cycle through stuff until we find a solution that works! this has led to me writing on my phone while walking and almost getting hit by a car once or twice so uh.... try at your own risk lmao 😵‍💫

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

ahhh welp 🥲 slightly sad times, here we go~

“My ex and I struggled a lot with…” “Sex. With me wanting it, with us having enough of it. I think it gave me a complex. I could be physically, you know, ready, but then as soon as she’d touch me I’d get in my head about everything and freak out and immediately want to stop.” “And then, I don’t know, I guess she was just trying to share her side, but… she would make me feel so bad about it sometimes. Because I was genuinely trying so hard but it was like I was never good enough.” “It felt like she didn’t want me anymore, not if there wasn’t sex. So I left.”

these clipped bits of jimin's dialogue from the shape of your body are entirely autobiographical 😬 so uh.... yikes!!! (but honestly, writing that story was very cathartic for me, and was basically a love letter to myself from a year ago that yes, there are people out there who won't rush you or guilt you about sex and desire, and can be understanding, and if the person you're with is not those things then maybe consider..... FINDING A DIFFERENT ONE..... ugh)

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

ahhhh i've always been drawn to writing since i was literally a child 🥰 i loved reading and so writing just happened as an extension of that. it's all i've ever really wanted to do! i started writing fanfic when i was like... 18-19? and then i took a break for damn near close to a decade lmao. this blog has been my triumphant return to the fanfic world~ but i've written bits and pieces of things in between, and i have a few novel ideas that i'd like to maybe write.... someday...... who knows! right now i'm just having fun with this little side hobby 💜

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

lol, speaking of side hobbies: i've done acting in my spare time for a good..... 15? years now, so i approach written characters the same way i would an acting role. as in, i try to understand what pieces of their personality feel "honest" or resonate with who i am as a person, and i use that as my "way in" to understanding how they tick and why they do what they do. and i do feel like all those character pieces live on inside me even after i'm done writing (or acting) them. so it's less trying to become someone else, and more like trying to understand how a character is similar to me or how i could relate to their perspective, even when it's wildly different from my own. if that..... makes sense dflgkjdfg I FEEL PRETENTIOUS I'LL BE QUIET NOW

weird questions for writers ask game!!

[shaykesqueer]

Mmmm walking a fine line while writing a trauma-heavy chapter tonight…

They say write what you know and you get it. It’s cathartic, but if I do it too much, I’m going to leave my body! So see ya.

While I’m up here, might as well take advantage and crank out some more shit.

[painless-innit-colourful]

‘Come Home’

A TommyInnit & Clingyduo Fic ahead of the final showdown tomorrow - spoilers for today’s (19th) Tommy stream.

tw for events of Exile Arc (skippable if you miss out the entire middle section of the fic, marked by three dashes on their own separate line)

The rush, the high. He’s been chasing this feeling since forever. It’s not a perfect replacement for the real thing, which he hasn’t felt in such a long time. It’s not a fluttering but an explosion, not the strumming of the guitar but the crash of the drums, not the rain but the thunder and lightning, though even that’s become fraught for him recently. He remembers the last time, a wonderful five minutes sandwiched by pain and chaos and destruction. His best friend standing on a stage, new leader of L’Manberg. A fresh start, the promise of peace and prosperity for all around them. But then it was all over, all brought down so quickly. The Tommy that cheered at his best friend’s inauguration is unrecognisable now.

But Tubbo is not, and between the scars and the new outfit and all the words, both spoken and unsaid, it’s still them. Tommy tastes the potion they’ve just made and hears his best friend’s laughter, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend for a few fleeting seconds that nothing has changed at all. If he opens his eyes, he’ll be back in the camarvan, and Wilbur will walk in through the door with more blaze rods and laugh at the two of them and ruffle his hair. The discs will be in his ender chest if he wants to listen to one with Tubbo. There’s a lake outside the door and a forest and a whole wide world to explore, and Tommy’s only worry is that Punz will yell at him if he sees him for having a ‘Fortnite build battle on his front lawn’ a little while ago. He opens his eyes and then takes another swig of potion to dampen his disappointment.

“Aye careful,” Tommy’s vaguely aware of Tubbo pulling the bottle away from his face before he accidentally upends it on himself. “Don’t want you looking like Sapnap earlier.” Tubbo’s grin is brighter than the sun on snow. “I have no idea what was happening with Cracknap other than he still needs help.” Tubbo’s laughter is soft, “He’s not the only one anymore.”

“Too shay.”

They drift upstairs, and then eventually out the door. It’s around 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and there are clouds drifting on the edge of the horizon. They’re dark and heavy-looking, but for now too far away to block the pale winter sunlight keeping the outside temperature a stubborn 10 degrees C. “I should go back to Snowchester.” Tubbo looks restless as they step onto the Prime Path. Tommy knows the feeling. Suddenly tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

“You’ll come back though, right? Tonight, one last ride?” They embrace, squeezing tightly as Tubbo hums an agreement. “Of course. One last ride.” And then they withdraw, and Tubbo gives a small wave as he disappears down the hill towards his highway, and Tommy watches him go. And when he finally looks up, alone with his thoughts once more, he realises he is leaning on the back of his bench; here again, always retreading the same ground. He briefly entertains the idea of putting on a disc and staying a little while, but he doesn’t have any music to live up to the occasion. Not Far, nor Pigstep or Wait, and he still hasn’t sorted out his complicated feelings over his version of Blocks. Besides, he still has things to sort out before the showdown. He walks away to prepare, humming Mellohi lightly as he goes.

---

‘Home’ is a fraught word for Tommy now. Every home the boy has had in this land is either steeped in blood and bad memories, or blown to bits beyond repair. Somedays Tommy wakes up alone and forgets that L’Manberg was wiped off the map, and it comes as a nasty shock when he rounds the corner by his home to see a crater that stretches all the way down to bedrock. Pogtopia never really felt like home, but it was bad enough when it was only soulless stone walls and bashing your head on the lanterns hanging from the ceiling that its inhabitants and visitors had to contend with. After the Manberg Festival, there was an entire room in there that’s sole purpose was to remind Tommy that he didn’t save his friend and couldn’t have if he’d tried, dried blood on the walls and all. Then there's the fact that it’s practically server tradition at this point: if you want to send TommyInnit a message, leave it on signs in his house. Don’t forget to blow up the house first though! Tommy forgets how many times he’s had to put his abode back together; probably about as many times as he’s had to reconstruct himself.

That leaves Logstedshire. Sometimes he agrees with himself that that place doesn’t deserve to be considered a home of his. He sure as hell didn’t want to live there, barely survived his stay, and the place is mostly blown up, the awful icing on the dreadful cake that was his second exile from L’Manberg. He supposes it could be considered weird that he finds himself stepping down a path he never wanted to walk again, but today… Today is about closure. And if he can look Technoblade in the eyes with a belt-full of potions stolen from his chests, he’s brave enough to face his fears in Logsted. As he arrives at the portal, he hesitates, his gaze drifting away from the swirling purple and to the bubbling orange, much further below. So many times has he been here, only then his mind was a much worse thing to own, a clouded mass of hateful thoughts, most of them not his own. Where the bridge meets thin air there are patches of a shimmering wind where the heat takes the place of the nothingness, and if he squints Tommy can imagine himself standing on the edge, wondering what would happen if he'd just let go. He’s glad now that he was in the Overworld when he made the pillar, even if it seemed like he had nowhere to go.

Logstedshire is haunted, even more so than the Nether path. It’s exactly how Tommy remembers it: the broken Nether portal missing a single piece of obsidian, the craters untouched, the pillar still stretching skyward. He can see himself again; on the beach, repairing the chests, standing at the top of the tower. It’s like being in a haunted house where all the ghosts are yourself. But Tommy isn’t afraid. The ‘Drista’ sign makes him laugh, the ocean where he’d wake up drowning (trying to make it home to where? A country that no longer exists) gets a small wave, even the pillar gets a smile, because he’s here to look at it from the ground. It was a bad time in his life - possibly the worst -  but he made it out the other side. And that’s what matters.

There are some craters though, some specific memories that Tommy can’t face yet. The smiling mask of the green man, snatching items out of Tommy’s hands to then force him to watch as he blew them to bits. How he specifically said “I want you to watch.” when he blew up everything Tommy and Ghostbur had managed to scrape together for themselves out there alone. The two-by-two hole in the centre of the largest crater, and how just glancing at it summons Dream’s voice to his mind, taunting him as he grabbed him by the front of his already ripped shirt and hoisted him over the short drop, “Why don’t you get in the hole, Tommy?”

Those still sting. There’s a reason, he supposes, why Wilbur went mad after losing L’Manberg. Why he asked Philza to kill him instead of facing the wreckage all around. But Tommy refuses to be just another repeat of history. Tommy looks into the pit made by Dream’s TNT where scraps of happiness were burned, and he spits at it.

No more.

TommyInnit heads home.

---

Hours pass. Tubbo returns from Snowchester soaked through to the skin but smiling. Tommy helps him peel off several layers of frozen clothing (he decides not to ask in regards to the hazmat suit), finding out that the nukes project is going well but they are presented with the usual issues of living in a frozen tundra: cold.

After Tubbo’s showered and changed, they share a dinner giggling about really dumb topics like Tommy pulling a fast one on Technoblade, Jack Manifold being weird and unhelpful again, and good old GeorgeNotFound. The hours fly by, and it's much later that they’re getting ready for bed when the heavens finally open, and the sound of a heavy downpour seeps in through the cracks of Tommy’s dirt house. Tommy can feel the smile crossing his face until he remembers his house is a dirt shack at present, and mud houses aren’t generally known for being the most watertight. Tubbo gets a good laugh out of his expression when he comes bustling down the stairs dragging his bed behind him, crying out, “Our clothes! Beds! Tubbo-” Their plans changed and they put their beds in the storage room, the room voted Least Likely To Have a Leak by a grand majority of two. The sound of the rain is somehow less muffled down there, and it clatters against the ceiling almost melodically.

Tommy picks up the crossbow from the pile of clothes and other bits and bobs he grabbed from upstairs when the downpour started. ‘Chekhov's Gun’. Wilbur’s gun. As in, actual Alivebur’s weapon, from before he blew up L’Manberg. It feels heavy in his hands. Too heavy. Wilbur’s voice echoes through his head, not the usual line he hears in his nightmares, but similar. 

“You’re never going to be president, Tommy.”

It doesn’t hurt anymore. Wilbur gave him that choice, and he declined. He wonders, with a certain detachment, how it all would’ve turned out if he’d chosen to take the presidency. He certainly wouldn’t have exiled Tubbo.

Tubbo, who’s looking at him with a lopsided grin, standing by his bed and holding his covers aloft, one leg already in bed. It seems like an invitation. “You alright?” Tommy nods and sets down the crossbow and clothes on top of one of the chests, “Yeah… Goodnight Tubs.”

“Goodnight Tommy.”

In the split second before either of them can commit to getting into bed, Tommy hears Wilbur again. This time though, he doesn’t mock him, nor does he sound too far gone to be saved. This iteration of Wilbur Soot wears a captain’s hat instead of a beanie, and speaks with soft conviction, and puts his hands on Tommy’s shoulders like he can shield the teen from the choice that he’s made.

“I want you to do whatever your heart says you should do.”

“Tubbo wait,” Tommy catches his best friend by the arm. Two pairs of blue eyes meet briefly as Tommy pulls him into a hug, putting one hand on the back of Tubbo’s head and messing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. Tubbo’s surprise doesn’t last long, and he hugs back, burying his face in Tommy’s shoulder and balling Tommy’s shirt into his fists. Tommy breathes a deep sigh, trying to make the moment last, but knowing no one lives forever. Eventually they split, and Tommy ruffles Tubbo’s hair as they grin at each other with tired eyes and heavy limbs. “Okay, goodnight Tubbo.”

The older boy in question takes two steps back and sits down on his bed, shuffling back quickly and holding the covers open, smiling invitingly. “Tommy,” His voice sounds like honey, so sickly-sweet it shouldn’t be nice, but is. There’s also a heavy undertone of teasing going on to start with, but it becomes more genuine suddenly. “Come home.” And Tommy understands and climbs in beside him, and they tease each other for being clingy and sappy as they try to get comfortable, and then they quiet to the odd remark as they find the right place, Tubbo’s head resting on Tommy’s collarbone, their arms wrapped around each other and Tommy’s head leaning on Tubbo’s. Tubbo drops off first, and Tommy is waiting in the noisy quiet for sleep to claim him too, listening to the rain pattering on the roof and his friend’s breathing beside him. And in the quiet, he realises a couple things.

He realises he rather likes the rain without the thunder, and that maybe the guitar is better than the drums, and that the fluttering in his chest is more uplifting than the explosion of a vibrant heart. It’s not the triumphant high he’s been chasing. It’s quieter, it’s comforting, it’s a warm feeling in his whole being. It’s just as good as the victorious moment. It’s perfect.

The second thing he realises is that he’s been wrong since the beginning. Home was never Logstedshire or Pogtopia, but neither was it L’Manberg or even the building they’re currently in. Home was the togetherness L’Manberg brought, sitting around a campfire singing the national anthem and putting more effort into the ‘fuck Eret’ part every time it came around. Home was listening to Wilbur’s guitar echoing through the caverns at Pogtopia and complaining about eating Technoblade’s potato stew for the third day running while your comrades laughed. Home is right here, wrapped in the arms of your favourite person, belly full of good food, listening to the rain as sleep slowly takes you. He sees that now.

TommyInnit is home.

[theogony]

oh my god i just read more abt rainbow rowell aru. what the fuck in burning hell my dude

OH MY GOD HIII INK AND LISTEN... i loved her books at one point but also i read elenour and park and then reread the simon snow series and. yeah holy fuck

anyway in conclusion rainbow rowell essentially slapping her books: these bad boys can fit so much asian and mlm fetisization in here

[lilacgay]

if i dont post constantly about being gay and sad then who am i

[ellanainthetardis]

Fanfic Ask

😂 What’s the funniest comment someone has left on a fic of yours?

🙅‍♀️ What is one trope you refuse to ever write?

👀 Do you have any words/phrases you use habitually?

Thank you @curiousnonny

😂: Mmmm… Well lately someone did say my chapters weren’t long enough, which hear me out doesn’t seem funny at all but when you know me… Hi I’m the girl who can’t keep a one shot as a one shot, who will write 60 chapters stories (let’s not talk about Invictus) and it’s just hilarious to me because if it’s one complaint I always get from my beta it’s length. XD

But more seriously once I got a Sort of spam thing on ff.net on a Lucifer fic? I deleted it so i don’t exactly remember but that person had a very strong opinion about my worshiping of the devil. 😂😂

🙅🏻‍♀️ One trope I refuse to write mmmm I don’t know if there’s anything I’d really not write… I don’t write character death (main character as in main ship, sorry itgn Katniss xD) or at least not often. When I do it’s usually more of a personal cathartic thing than anything else so I wouldn’t take request for that.

👀: I’m sure I have quite a few but am I aware of them… I can tell you the stuff I always struggle with though : year-old and years old, if dinner/dinning takes one or two n, guest-room versus guest rooms and for whatever reason I had a period when I was writing smoking smocking (French thing xD).

@curiousnonny

[pixieposts]

Mmmm, how about 2, 8, 17?

Excuuuuse me dear, you have requested an essay! I'll do it, but I refuse any grading on it. 2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

True angst, if that counts? I mean like absolutely no happy ending at all angst, I'd love to try it but I just can't help softening the endings!

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it

 “I cannot just let him continue, I cannot quit now.” He ran his hands through his hair angrily “ gods  I wish I could, I wish…”   

He stopped, hands gripped in his hair and his expression frantic.  Fjord felt the stirrings of fear in his chest, and stood slowly, hands outstretched placatingly.  

“Hey, that’s alright.  You’ve done so much already to put him down, you made it through so much and you’re  here, that’s—”   

“That’s the  problem  Fjord!” Caleb cut him off “that is-- that’s the problem. I don’t  want to be, I don’t want to be here anymore!  I’m just—” his voice cracked and lowered as he covered his face with his hands “I am so tired Fjord”  

Okay so I'd love to post the whole conversation here but iiiiit's hella long? This is from the "When's the last time you slept?" oneshot and not to get too deep on main but I found this whole section super cathartic. I've always hated talking about feelings but I projected so fucking hard onto Caleb here and I genuinely love how it reads, I think it really captured the emotion and I constantly want to be able to do that!

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

It depends on the story, but usually I end up writing scenes out of order eventually just because I'll think of something entirely randomly and I know if I don't write it down I'll forget it 😂

Thank you for playing along dearest!! Hopefully I'll have more writing to share soon 💕

[pynkhues]

1, 6 and 24

Thank you!

1: Is writing cathartic or stressful for you?

Cathartic! I don't find writing stressful at all really? I mean, I definitely find it frustrating and exhausting sometimes, haha, but writing's always been an outlet from stress for me, not a pathway into it.

6: What are some topics you will never write about?

Mmmm, that depends on the context, I think. Generally speaking, I'd never say never. I think asking enough creative questions of a topic and rooting out characters and their motivations, themes and plot, can make any topic interesting to me on a narrative level, and anything interesting to me is something I might be open to writing.

In terms of fic though, and particularly writing Good Girls fic, I think there are a few things I wouldn't write. I don't think I'll ever write Beth and Rio having a child together, at least not in a canon compliant fic, and I don't think I'd ever write a fic where Rio had Marcus but Beth didn't have her kids, or vice versa, as I think that feels like prioritising one of their past's over the other, although I would write fic where neither of them had kids (and am in PALS!)

I also am very selective and specific in how I write violence and there are a lot of contexts I wouldn't write it in.

24: Which fic of yours do you wish people would ask about more? Why?

Ah! I'm pretty lucky in the sense that a lot of people ask me about my fics, haha. It's a bit magic. I do think though my favourite fic to get asks about is What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have. It's a fic I didn't think that many people would read, and to have it embraced and people connecting with it always feels really special.

Fic ask game

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 139

SYNOPSIS: Their days in paradise have been wonderful, blissfully happy and therapeutic for both Jamie and especially Claire who has finally recovered from her nightmares. Today, Jamie has planned a day of special surprises for his Sassenach, although she is very surprised at their mode of transportation as they set off on a day of carefree adventure.  

Chapter 138 and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations  

THANK YOU all so much for your continued support of this novel of a story.  I really appreciate everyone who is reading along.   I hope you will enjoy these next four chapters as I take Jamie and Claire to idyllic places in the Whitsunday Islands.

CHAPTER 139

 The lovers had fallen asleep in each other’s arms like they had every night spent here at Jamie’s home since they had arrived in Australia.  Every day had been idyllic, they’d been bushwalking, lazing on their private beach, had watched the sunsets and sunrises and had made love in nearly every room of the house over the course of the past week or so.  Memorable days and nights spent in each other’s company had been like a honeymoon.  Since being here in Queensland, Jamie and Claire had idled away the time spent together and couldn’t have been happier or more in love for it had been blissfully romantic and carefree in this paradise so far away from Section One.  

The two operatives were off the grid and absolutely uncontactable by Madeline and Operations. Their friend Murtagh, was the only one entrusted with where they were going and Jamie had let him know categorically that under no circumstances was he to contact them or let anyone know they had left Hong Kong.  If Murtagh valued his life, and their friendship, then he would leave them in peace to enjoy their much-needed downtime to recover.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

James Fraser looked down at his Claire in calm repose. He had lost count of the number of days that he’d awoken with her nestled contentedly in his arms, and he loved that their intimacy made his beloved feel safe and protected. Thankfully her nightmares had dissipated and his Sassenach had slept more soundly and peacefully over the past few nights, free from her past recollections. All the bad memories of the monastery and the demons that had tormented her dreams had gone, and she’d not had any more nightmares take hold of her mind.

Sighing, Jamie ran his hand over Claire’s tousled locks and brushed a curl away from her cheek before kissing the top of her head. Smiling happily, he then kissed the side of her face inhaling the special scent of his love that filled his nostrils when he buried his face into the curve of her neck.  He loved the smooth feel of her skin, but he loved it more when Claire arched her throat up for him to run kisses along the length of her swan like neck which led to the sensual foreplay that ultimately resulted in their lovemaking.

Life here in this paradise had been everything and more than they could have hoped for, but the fact that the days were speeding by, filled him with great sorrow. If only things could be different at Section and they were not under such scrutiny, then they could still perform their duties as operatives but have a life together.  This time here had been a cathartic experience.  He wanted their lives to always be intertwined in the same way their bodies had been for the last few days intimately and in peace.  However, the leadership of Section did not allow fraternization between functioning field operatives and until such time as this changed then they would have to be clandestine in their familiarity and togetherness.

It made him furious that they would once again have to return to the hellhole that was Section One after their two weeks, that they would have to pretend in front of their superiors that there was no romantic relationship between the two of them and that he would have to be careful not to show any emotion around the woman he loved.   However, looking down at the angel of his heart, he had a moment of clarification. He was no longer the same person he had been for several years.  Although he was still a cold, Level 5 field operative, he had changed emotionally.  Claire Beauchamp had changed him for the better.  She had made him more human and made him realise that he was worthy of being loved and giving love in return.

Shaking this malaise from his mind, Jamie looked down at his Sassenach’s peaceful, sleeping form nestled safely against his body. He placed a gentle kiss against her cheek, then pulled Claire in closer by wrapping his arms around her and rested his head against hers.  

He loved this woman with all his heart and he would do everything in his power for them to be together once the Rising Dragons’ mission was over. He had promised her that he would find a way and he was going to keep that promise. This downtime was more than just for them to heal and recuperate.  It was a time of honesty, of no regrets and a time for them to treasure every special moment spent together.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As she began to wake, Claire felt the touch of her lover’s kiss as Jamie brushed his lips over her porcelain skin once more.  She stirred against him automatically nuzzling closer against his warm chest.  Although still half asleep, she felt the tickling brush of Jamie’s growing beard against her flesh.  It was so erotic that Claire stirred a little more before wriggling a little closer. She let out a keening whimper as he teased her throat with his tongue before brushing his lips up under her chin.

“Mmmm … That feels so good Fraser,” she moaned as her eyes began to flutter in that moment just before they opened.

Hearing her moan, Jamie stroked Claire’s temple and kissed the top of her head as his fingers lazily stroked her delicate skin up and down.

"Ja-mie," she whispered softly.

The sound of his name on her lips spoken so breathlessly thrilled him. If she continued to say his name like that though, they may never get out of bed and he had special plans for them today that Claire would not think him capable of doing. He kissed her hair once again then trailed kisses along her cheek as his love raised her head to look into his eyes.

Their lips gently connected. "Good morning mo ghràidh," he purred in his sexy Scottish burr and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I could watch you for hours, Sassenach... see how you've changed ... how you're the same. Your hair... Mo nighean donn.” “My brown-haired lass,” Claire uttered softly, the words lingering on her lips like a gentle caress from her man. She smiled at him, then leaning up, placed her lips to his whispering against them, " Good morning lover. So, what are we going to do today?"

Grinning at her with a gleam in his eye, Jamie lightly rubbed her cheek and stroked his fingers under her jaw. "Tis another surprise Sassenach.”

Claire was enthralled looking at him with a penetrating stare as she wondered what this wonderful man had in store for them today.  She smiled back at him. "Hmmm?  I wonder what you have in mind this time James Fraser?”

A smile beamed across his face waiting for her response to what he was going to say. “I was thinking we could go sailing the Whitsundays today.”

She was a little shocked at this announcement given that Jamie and the sea often didn’t see eye to eye and he was prone to getting sea sick. Tilting her head back to see his eyes more clearly, Claire soon realised that he was indeed serious with his suggestion.

A wry smile and a surprised raised eyebrow greeted his announcement. “Sailing?  … But don’t you get seasick Jamie?”

“Don’t worry Sassenach.  Everything will be fine. It will be smooth sailing … I promise.”

Seeing the sheer joy on his face at this suggestion Claire couldn’t help but smile too. “Well then … a day on the ocean sounds wonderful. I would like that very much.”

“Good,” he replied then leaning down Jamie gently kissed her lips while tracing a finger down her neck, but he stopped himself before it went further. “Well then, as much as I hate to say this … but we best get up. Time and tide wait for no man ye ken.”  

"Okay," she nodded in agreeance with his plan although with some skepticism but wonder in her voice.

Giving Claire a cheeky little pat on the backside, Jamie grinned at her and wriggled his eyebrows.  "Come on then Sassenach. Let’s get this day started."

She laughed and squatted his hand away before responding with a kiss of her own. “You’ll keep Fraser,” and rolling away from each other they got out of bed ready for a day of adventure.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Holding hands Jamie and Claire walked along the docks of the private marina admiring the rows of sailboats and yachts moored there until they stopped at a sleek, beautiful white yacht with a gold stripe along the side of it.  However, it wasn’t the boat’s stunning design that caught her attention but the cursive writing printed in gold on the rear of the boat, ‘Je Suis Prest.’

Claire approached the yacht admiring the gold lettering on the stern and side of the boat unaware of what significance the name held for James Fraser. Turning around she looked at him inquisitively.

“What a beautiful yacht Jamie. Is this our hire boat for sailing today?  Are you going to sail it or do we need a skipper? The name is intriguing … Je Suis Prest … I wonder what that means?”  

He gave her a tender kiss on the mouth and with a smile on his lips replied, “Ye do ask a lot of questions Sassenach.”

“I’m just a little gobsmacked by this beautiful yacht Jamie.  I can hardly believe this is for us.”

“Well it ‘tis. I believe that the yacht belongs to a Jared Fraser who is in France on business. He rents it out when not in Australia,” Jamie said standing in front of the beautiful, very big, yacht with the Fraser maxim emblazoned on the back.

“What? … No!  It belongs to someone named Fraser?  Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!  What a coincidence he has the same name as you.” Claire replied in astonishment dropping her beach bag on the dock laughing and realising that Jamie had answered one of her questions. She cast another look at the sleek vessel moored at the dock with new eyes. “Je Suis Prest,” she muttered under her breath.

“Do you know what that means Sassenach?” he whispered in her ear as he came and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Do ye know the Fraser motto, lass? My clan's, I mean?

“No. I don't.”

“’Tis my family motto Sassenach from my other life before Section.   Je suis prest … I am ready.”

“Je Suis Prest,” Claire muttered under her breath. Her eyes were sparkling with the thought the Jamie had given her another little piece of himself that he’d hidden all these years in Section. She smiled beguilingly at him.  

James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, Section One’s incomparable Level 5 operative was always ready for anything that may occur at Section.  From dealing with the machinations of their superiors, to what happened on missions, to the life and death decisions he faced on a regular basis, this man was always ready. That is why he stayed alive and his team always returned safely.  Jamie lived this family motto every day.

“I’m ready too Fraser… “she teased, “… ready for our sailing adventure today.”  However, Claire’s face altered when she looked at him with some apprehension knowing that Jamie was not the best sea person. “But, are you really sure you will you be okay?”

Jamie saw the look that came over her face knowing how the sea affected him.  Taking her hand, he smiled at his love reassuring her that he would be okay. “I only get seasick on ocean voyages mo nighean donn. Sailing in the Whitsundays is calm like a millpond and the region is one of the world’s safest boating destinations Claire.”

He raised her hand to his lips and placed a kiss to her knuckles.  “It’s sheltered from ocean swell by the Great Barrier Reef, and the numerous islands provide calm and completely protected natural anchorages. That is the amount of swell I can tolerate.  I’ll be fine Sassenach, but I do have some acupuncture needles just in case,” he teased with a twinkle in his eye.

She smiled relieved that he would be okay. “That’s good to know. So, are you going to tell me what we’re going to do then?”

Jamie just shook his head and grinned. “No. ‘Tis a surprise…,” he responded amused at the irritation furrowing her features. “… and I know just how much ye love surprises Sassenach.”

“But Jamie …”

He looked at her beseeching face and capitulated a little without telling her he had planned to also sail to Whitehaven Beach for a picnic.  “Okay … I thought we might head over to the outer reef for some snorkelling. Would ye like that Claire?”

“Yes, I would like that very much.”

Her skin itched with excitement at the thought of sailing today with Jamie at the helm of this magnificent yacht.  The thought of the cool sea breezes crashing over her and the stunning sea views, not to mention the virile man she was with, filled her with excitement for what the day may hold. Wherever the wind would take them on today’s adventure she just knew it was going to be memorable. 

“Aye, Aye Captain.”

“Well then, welcome aboard sailor.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Holding Jamie’s outstretched hand, Claire managed to step onto the edge of the yacht and climbed onto the deck. Once onboard, she took a moment to admire the yacht from the lovely teak wooden deck to the cushioned benches curving on both the port and starboard sides of the saloon to the spacious cockpit where a huge steering wheel dominated the space. It was a beautifully maintained yacht and she was so excited to be going on this sailing adventure with Jamie at the wheel.

In next to no time after placing their supplies for the day on board, Jamie hoisted the mainsail that would capture the bulk of the wind power necessary to propel the yacht and if needs be, he could use the motors as a backup should the wind fail. He secured the vertical side of the sail to the mast, and its horizontal side to the boom parallel to the deck. Jamie then made his way to the cockpit to ready them for sailing while Claire walked over to the side of the boat and leaned over the metal railings, staring out into the crystal blue water wondering what adventures awaited them today.  She took in the clear blue skies, the warming sunshine and shimmering ocean waves.  Lost in thought she didn’t hear Jamie come and stand beside her.

He grinned at her and taking her hand led her into the cockpit and started the engine.  “Ready Sassenach?”

“Always,” she replied a wistful smile gracing her lips.

For Claire, watching Jamie concentrate on reversing the yacht safely out of its moored area at the marina as they headed out into the ocean was as mesmerizing as it had been watching him manoeuvre their car on the journey when they had left Med Lab.

James Fraser never ceased to amaze her every single day, and this too was a new piece of information about the man she loved that filled her heart to bursting. He was a consummate, virile specimen of manhood and her eyes glided over his torso from head to toe, before lingering on his arms as she admired his prowess at the yacht’s helm. The fact that just the thought of what his body and arms could do to her, and oh, sweet Jesus … his hands … was enough to make her cheeks blush with wickedly delicious thoughts.

Claire knew that she needed to curtail these wayward feelings or they just might get her into trouble, but that had never bothered her before, and besides she felt a little flirty.  Moving up behind Jamie, she hugged her man pulling him against her. She placed her hands over his as he steered the yacht out into the open seas, then, resting her head on his shoulder, Claire sighed contentedly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They had soon left the yacht marina behind them and it seemed as if they were the only ones in the vast sea. The weather was perfect for sailing with a warm breeze and only a few clouds in the vibrant blue sky. There was something rather magical about going where the wind took you. The cares and stresses of their everyday life as cold-blooded killer operatives had ebbed away since they had been here, and the present became everything for them. Briny air, azure blue swells, and a wind that carried them to whatever destination Jamie was taking them to in this picturesque setting, was all that mattered. It was freeing and liberating for the mind and the fact that Claire had banished all of her nightmares from her consciousness, she had relished being in paradise as much as he had.

The sails now flapped in the wind as the waves gently rocked the boat and the salt and brine smell of the ocean filled their nostrils. What a majestic place this was for them.  They were completely unplugged and disconnected from the rest of the world, but completely connected with each other and their surroundings. Over the past week, the Whitsundays already had won their hearts and the fact that they were navigating new waters ... learning so much, working together as well as re-anchoring together through these wonderful moments, was everything. It was so different from their life in Section. The fact that they were having this incredible adventure, in one of the most beautiful locations in the world, immersed in nature, free and away from everything, with an element of learning and having to work at something as a team was really special.

This day was already turning into something unforgettable as Jamie and Claire talked about nothing and everything as they sailed along. The waters were the most beautiful azure blue she had ever seen while both of them were awestruck by the beauty of the sea. They were in the middle of the ocean, away from civilization, from their life at Section One and more importantly those who scrutinized their every move.  There was just the two of them surrounded by the beauty of this part of the world. This was a place that had always been on Claire’s bucket list prior to her recruitment to Section One, but one she had never had the opportunity to visit. The dichotomy of being here to being in Section was worlds apart.  It was as different as night and day.  Just being with Jamie made her felt free and alive as never before, compared to their hellhole where you never, ever knew if you would live or die on any particular day. This day had already started out magical and Claire knew that whatever the rest of the day would bring, that to share it with the love of her life was all that she could want.

The yacht smoothly cut through the tranquil seas as Jamie skippered the vessel towards their first destination.  He observed how happy and relaxed his Sassenach was and how very much he too was enjoying this sailing trip.  His stomach had managed to behave, and not once had he felt even a tiny tinge of seasickness. He was so looking forward to seeing Claire’s face when they arrived at the outer reef for some snorkelling amongst the coral and underwater sea life. It was then on to Whitehaven Beach to spend the day, swimming or paddle boarding off the yacht and perhaps watching the sun set from the water, drinking plenty of wine and whisky on a beach picnic, before returning home under the shimmering night skies. It would be a day of living life to the full and enjoying each other’s company in the serenity of this beautiful area. Although he’d planned some things they would do, it was the joyful spontaneity of those unexpected moments Jamie knew would happen with his Sassenach, that they would remember and hold dear to their hearts.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Life for Jamie and Claire over this past week and a bit had been magical.  They were somewhere that let them see the stars at night, somewhere away from their previous life where missions, End Games, covert operations, subterfuge and manipulation ruled their lives. They’d had the opportunity to connect with each other in a way that they were rarely able to do and they had relished their connectedness. It had been cathartic and exhilarating for both of them.  Their wounds had healed and they were both in a good place and frame of mind that when they did have to return to Section, they were ready for whatever fate may hold for them.

Claire couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made this place and the Whitsundays so special.

Was it the beautiful blue water, always a pleasant temperature so that they could swim whenever they pleased?  Was it the incredible islands, dotted not far from the shore? Some were home to sophisticated resorts while others, uninhabited, were filled with mystery. Was it the tropical weather or the magnificent Great Barrier Reef and fringing reef, home to an endless range of marine life? Or was it just that they got to appreciate and wonder at this special environment every day they were here?

Perhaps it was a combination of these things that made the Whitsundays a truly special place and one she would always remember. After all it was the place that Jamie had chosen to take her to recuperate and forget all that had happened to the both of them at the monastery and for that she would be forever grateful.

She was so relaxed and comfortable around Jamie here.  She had let her guard down but so too had he. He had a way of making her laugh, and conversation with him was so easy. His all too familiar touch had taken her to places of exhilaration and ecstasy when they had both surrendered to the joys of making love so freely and without inhibition.  Together they could conquer the world, for James Fraser was her rock.  He was her everything and she loved him to distraction.  

A hand suddenly reached for her waist as the man of her thoughts came and stood beside her. Claire leaned in close to Jamie as his arms encircled her waist and brought her to his side. Taking her hand in his, he guided it towards a new spectacular sight.  Claire’s voice was filled with joy and wonder as he pointed out another spectacular sight … an island, a bird and a pod of dolphins surfacing from the ocean.  They both laughed as they watched the friendly and playful sea mammals frolic in the water so close to the yacht.

“Happy Sassenach?”

Her delight was infectious. “Very … Oh Jamie, this is the most wonderful day.”

“’Tis only just beginning mo ghràidh,” he assured her with a mysterious gleam in his eye.

“I didn’t think it could get any better than sailing with you my love.”

“Well it just might ye ken, because we have reached the outer reef and I thought ye might like to go snorkelling and see some of the marine life.”

“Oh …” Claire replied excitedly unable to suppress the smile that crossed her mouth.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~to be continued Tuesday 18th August when we see what wonders are in store beneath the waters of the reef.

[majicmarker]

1, 7, 24 for the fic asks? Plz?

hello, of course!!

1. is writing cathartic or stressful for you?

cathartic, mostly. ofc smtimes i get stressed, but when that happens i’ve learned to take a step back and reevaluate whatever my problem is, so that i can get back to it without that weight on my shoulders.

7. were there any ideas you had for [insert fic] that you couldn’t make work? what were they?

mmmm off the top of my head, everything i want to do w my fics gets done. if smthn is too much trouble in a multichap for whatever reason, i’ll take the concept and make it a oneshot instead

24. which fic of yours do you wish people would ask about more? why?

oh, any of my bethyl fics, doesn’t matter which. i realize the fandom is relatively small and quiet, but if i’m going to talk fic i want it to be abt that dynamic. it’s my absolute favorite and it’s been so inspirational for my original stuff, and just in general i have so much fun with it

[avarkriss]

Which of your fics...

Thanks for the tag @thegreenkid  💕 💕 💕

...did you think was going to get a bigger reaction/audience than you got?

I am honestly not sure why any of you read what I write lmao, I never expect any kind of reactions but I’m so glad that so many of you enjoy my writing!! Every comment fills my heart with joy :) unless it’s on rock candy, then I’m filled with dread aldkjdjf

...got a better reaction than you expected?

Bro I was n o t expecting the Obi/Cody/F!Jedi!Reader threesome paradise; (with a nasty bite) to be so popular. It’s got over 300 notes here (wild) and over 1200 hits on AO3 (even more wild like,,,, cannot wrap my head around it). I do love that fic, so I’m glad everyone has been digging it!! 

...is the funniest?

rock candy. hands down. no contest. 

...is your darkest/angstiest?

Mmmm probably unspoken. It doesn’t get explicitly dark but not speaking it out loud was kind of the point of the whole fic. It was very cathartic to write tho, and I know it’s helped others as well. 

...is your absolute favorite?

Omg do not make me pic ugh. It’s really a tie between Fulminare (daddy-wan kenobi) and Salt (my super indulgent birthday gift to myself). I can’t pick between them! 

...is your least favorite?

Any and all of my crack pieces, but especially rock candy. Every single time that fic gets a hit/kudos/comment/whatever, I feel my soul getting pulled further into a special circle of hell being carved out just for me

...was the easiest to write?

I Don’t Care came to me super naturally and was a ton of fun to do!  

...was the hardest to write?

Writing Mirrors was like pulling teeth because it was my first long piece after a decently long hiatus and general period of feeling just awful, but with a lot of love and encouragement I was able to finish it :)

...has your favorite line/exchange/paragraph?

OH that’s in Fulminare! 

“Maker above,” you pleaded, lifting your hips to get closer to him, chasing another release before his hand pushed you down, a sinister smile playing on his lips. 

“There is no such being that can help you now,” he growled. A familiar taste of copper filled your mouth while he brought his finger to your... 

...have you reread the most?

My own work? I don’t go back and re-read a lot of things unless I’m editing because I find mistakes more easily after letting things sit for a while. But I do often revisit Fulminare, Salt, paradise, and I Don’t Care! 

Of other people’s works? I’ve read the unholy; trilogy and Sharp and the Glorious Thorn series by @beskars an insane number of times, late night devil (put your hands on me) by @darthstyles also a ton. I’ve read so many incredible fics just search fic rec on my blog, all are excellent, and should be read immediately!! 

...would you recommend for someone reading your work for the first time?

I mean I write pretty much porn all the time so whatever kink floats your boat I probably have a piece for you... for plot, Of Castles and Magic for sure. For smut, I’m going to say I Don’t Care. For a laugh I’ll say rock candy... if you dare. 

...are you most proud of?

Mirrors. I said somewhere up there that it was the first full length piece I did after a bit of a hiatus and a pretty terrible month. It was hard to get through and I almost gave up on it several times but with a lot of love and encouragement I finished it (and it got a great reaction which is so much serotonin and encouragement in its own way) and it really helped push me back into writing again. I am both proud of and thankful for that piece, and for the friendship that allowed me to finish it. 

always no pressure tags: @beskars, @darthstyles, @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories, @hansoulo, @opheliaelysia, @spookyold-saintjm, @huliabitch and of course if i missed anyone that wants to play along! 

[impossible-rat-babies]

📖! :)

Mmmm I wanna write a bunch about Darva and Dorian later in life, but also as Darva gets older and gets sick. (He’s got the same condition that would have killed his father if he hadn’t died before then). It’a that same push and pull I love to write, the goes between contentment at the life Darva has had but then leaving behind Dorian and all his family is terrifying. But regardless of how he feels, he’s getting sicker and he’s going to die.

I’ve always kinda liked exploring end of life ideas and stories if nothing more than the cathartic value of them and to face mortality. Or facing the inevitablity of death. But I still hesistate to write much about it because it feels so much like an end. As if I’m closing the page on Darva and leaving him behind to move on, which I don’t forsee doing anytime soon. Maybe one day, but nothing more than an entertaining idea for now.

—

Send a 📖 and I’ll tell you an unfinished story idea or one that I’ve thought about!

[ohfrickfanfic]

Daddy Issues

Requested by @duryik - Ok I’ve got an idea (Another Josh x reader) So your just moved into a new apartment like a few weeks ago so you don’t really know the neighbors. You get locked out of your apartment (with your phone in there) so you go across the hall to ask to borrow their phone to call your super and when the door opens you’re greeted with a sweaty sexy Josh who just came back from practice (maybe he needs to blow off some steam 😉)and one thing leads to another he’s nailing you with a (daddy and choking kink.

I also had a separate private request to add face sitting to a fic so I threw that in here too.

So I based this off my own real life "daddy issues" I thought it would be therapeutic to write about or cathartic as Tyler would say. But basically, this same exact scenario happened to me except my dad didn't call me he just showed up at my new house with bags backed like I was just gonna let him move in. Oh and he also wasn't 'allowed' at my wedding either but those are stories for another day... Josh is in the band in this but reader is written as being unfamiliar with the band and who Josh is.

You can listen to the daddy kink playlist used in this fic here, feel free to suggest more songs it’s pretty short.

Pairings: Josh x Reader

Warnings/tags: daddy kink, choking, face sitting

You hang up your phone, and whip it into the couch. It bounces off and lands on the floor with a thud as tears of anger sting the corners of your eyes and stream down your face. It was just like your father to be a manipulating selfish asshole. You should be used to this by now he's been like this ever since he left you and your mom for another woman when you were ten. You've hardly seen him since except for split holidays and the court ordered every other weekend visitations while you were growing up. Even then he hardly spoke two words to you unless it was to brag about a big buck he killed hunting, or to berate you for being bisexual after your new stepsister outed you. But luckily, kindly reminding him that adultery is also 'against the bible' quickly put an end to that. Still, with that information, you quickly became his pawn in a messy divorce and child support battle. "Tell your mom not to take your father back to court for child support or I'll tell your little secret on the stand if she does," his new wife would threaten and he'd allow. He also missed a lot of important events in your life including your sweet sixteen; he wasn't allowed to go per his new wife. It's not like he even remembered your birthday anyway, he'd call to say Happy Birthday in May when your birthday's in March, and you'll never forget the time he called to ask you for your birth-date for some paperwork for his job.

As you grew older you spoke less and less often years would go by without a word. But of course the second he heard through the grapevine that you've moved out of your mother's house and now have an apartment of your own he calls. Apparently several years and four more kids later, his new wife cheated on him and kicked him out and now he needs a place to live. While you couldn't be any more pleased with karma, the audacity of your father's request to live with you filled you with such rage that all you could do was laugh maniacally at the absurdity before you hung up.

You decide to go for a walk to calm down and help clear your head but the second you close the door to your new apartment behind you, you realize you locked your keys inside. Frantically, you tap your pockets looking for your phone to call your best friend who has a spare when it suddenly it hits you that in your emotional state you absentmindedly left it inside as well.

Well, this is one way to meet my new neighbors, you think to yourself as you knock on the door across the hall to ask to use the phone.

"Coming!" You hear a male voice shout, as you quickly wipe your face with your hands hoping your makeup is not streaked all over it. "Can I help you?" A colorful haired man asks from behind the chain latch of the now slightly ajar door.

"Hi..umm ..yes sorry to bother you but I just moved in across the hall and I accidentally locked my keys and phone inside and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call someone to bring me a spare,” you ramble like an idiot, what a great first impression I'm making on the new neighbors already. You think to yourself.

"Yeah sure hold on," he says before closing the door. You can hear the clang of the sliding chain lock. "You don't recognize me, do you?" He asks once he opens the door back up. It seems like an odd question and you study him briefly thinking maybe you've met before. But you're fairly certain you would remember the gorgeous creature before you with brightly colored hair, and a wet sculpted body with nothing but a towel around his waist.

"I'm sorry were you in the shower when I knocked? You ask apologetically, "But no, I'm sorry I don't recognize you, should I?"

"No, it's okay I like it better this way," he smiles as he closes the apartment door behind you . "and no I was just about to get in actually I'm all sweaty from drum practice, but don't worry about it I'd rather help a pretty girl in distress," he smirks. "Have a seat on the couch, I'll grab you my phone."

You take a seat on the couch and he returns a few moments later cellphone in hand. He's now wearing an extremely low riding pair of grey sweatpants that don't leave anymore to the imagination than the towel did. You can't help but stare at the chiseled V of his hips that are drawing your eyes down to the slight cloth covered bulge below as he hands you the phone. The sight is enough to make you squeeze your thighs together; God, what you would do for a nice orgasm as a distraction right now.

"Need anything, water, LaCroix, Red Bull?" He calls from behind you now in the kitchen of the open floor plan, as you scour your brain, silently cursing technology for not allowing you to recall your best friends phone number without it so conveniently listed in your contacts.

How about for you to fuck me until I forget. Your mind wanders. but "Water's fine," is all you say.

"Sure thing," he answers. "So how'd you manage to lock your phone and keys inside anyways? You looked pretty upset when I answered the door, like you'd been crying," he asks as he reaches into the fridge for a bottle of water.

"Ugh long story short, but my piece of shit father who's never been there for me suddenly needs a place to live, and really thought I would let him live with me. I just wanted to go for a walk and clear my head, and in my anger, I absentmindedly left them behind."

"Oooh, Daddy issues!" He speaks with a low growl, his voice dripping with suggestion, knowing girls who didn’t have a proper father figure growing up are far more likely to have a daddy kink than those who did. The cold water bottle makes contact with the palm of your hand as he takes a seat and hands it to you, but rolls to the floor when you don't grab it; your hands instead planting themselves firmly on the colorful-haired man's chest pushing him down on the couch, a knee on either side of his hips as you connect your lips to his. He parts his lips and moans into the kiss as his tongue slides against yours.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I should really go," you jump back breaking the kiss.

"Shhhh Babygirl, don't be sorry Daddy's got you," He whispers brushing his thumb over your lips, his other fingers caressing your cheek softly, as his free hand slips his phone into his pocket; because you won't be needing it and he has plans.

"Oh fuck," You practically moan as his words ignite a warmth in your abdomen, and you reconnect your lips once again.

"Bedroom?" He pulls back momentarily to suggest.

"Bedroom," you repeat with a nod of your head like you forgot the word ‘yes’.

On your way to the bedroom, he tangles his left hand in your hair using his grip on it to keep your face close to his and your mouths latched, the free hand of his tattooed arm swiftly undoing the buttons of our blousy top, and sliding it off your shoulders, your bra to follow.

Inside his room, he sinks down on the edge of his bed grabbing you by your jean-clad backside and pulling you close. With his lips dancing over the horizon of flesh and jean along your lower abdomen and his eyes burning into yours, he unzips them and begins tugging them down. Assisting him, you slip your thumbs into the waistband and shimmy your hips as you pull the tight fabric over your backside and down your thighs.

"Fuck, I wanna feel these thighs wrapped around my head, Babygirl," he breathes as he strokes them, softly at first, then rougher, squeezing as run his hands up and down there expanse.

“Mmmm, Yeah?”

“Yeah, let Daddy make you feel good, beautiful. Come sit on my face,” he says raking his pearly white teeth over his bottom lip as he begins to move up the bed.

You pull your panties down to meet your jeans, kicking them off completely as you crawl onto the bed and over the toned body of your new neighbor, settling a knee on either side of his head.

“Wait!” He exclaims, his warm breath cascading over your core, as he reaches into the pocket of his grey sweats, pulling out his phone. “I’ve been dying to get some use out of this playlist.” he smirks, as he presses play and sets the phone to his right on the nightstand, wrapping his arms around your thighs. The first song starts and you recognize it immediately as Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood. He locks eyes with you and flattens his tongue, giving you a long, slow, teasing lick. Moaning at the taste he grips your ass pulling you flush against his mouth as the lyrics start.

Take you like a drug

Taste you on my tongue

He delves his tongue deeper lapping at the wetness that’s been pooling since you first laid eyes on his V line.

“Mmm, Fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips against his mouth desperate for more friction, he takes notice gliding his tongue back up over your clit and sucking on it lightly as the music continues in the background.

And if you were my little girl

I’d do whatever I could do

I’d runaway and hide with you

I know you got daddy issues

Your hands find their way into his hair, gripping his brightly colored locks as you ride his face, rocking your hips back and forth along his tongue. As you feel your orgasm steadily approaching, you remove one of your hands from his hair and brace yourself on the headboard.

He slides a hand from your ass, down over his chiseled abs and into his sweatpants pulling his erection free, and begins stroking himself as his tongue continues to work against your clit.

“Ohhh… Fuck Daddy!” You moan in a shaky breath, gripping his hair tighter as you cum with your head thrown back and your thighs tightening around his head, as you ride it out.

“Mmmmm, good girl,” he says simply, his lips and chin glossed with your wetness as he pulls away.

You remove your legs from around his head and move back down his body to now straddle his hips. Leaning forward over his perfect body you slide your tongue between his slippery lips and into his mouth kissing him with fierce passion. He moans at your actions, breaking this kiss to speak.

“You. Like. Tasting. Yourself. Beautiful?” He asks, each word punctuated with the slip of his tongue into your eager mouth.

“Mmmm yes,” you pull back playfully to answer, teasing your tongue along his lips.

“Yes, what?” He prompts you, stretching his neck to capture your mouth again.

“Yes, Daddy,” you smile against his lips, before moving farther back down his body, kissing as you go before finally settling with his thighs viced between yours. Sitting back on his thighs you grasp his length admiring it as you begin to pump him. He’s only slightly longer than the others you’ve been with, but oh so thick, a prominent vein running from the base to just under the head, you stroke your thumb along it teasingly causing him to whimper in desperation.

“Stop teasing and ride me already,” he commands, bucking his hips off the bed and fucking into your hand.

You smile seductively as you raise your body up and hover teasingly over his erect length in your grasp. He slips into you as he bucks his hips a second time, and you sink down with a loud moan as you bottom out on his thick cock. Bouncing on his length you raise and lower your hips to the beat of the music a Demi Lovato song now playing.

Lucky for you I got all these daddy issues

What can I do?

I’m going crazy when I’m with you

Forget all the therapy that I’ve been through

Lucky for you

I’ve got all these daddy issues

All these daddy issues

Daddy issues uhhh daddy issues uhhh

“Mmmm fuck, look at you, tits bouncing as you ride my dick like a good little slut,” he groans, as he bites his lip and grips your waist.

Changing up your motions and pace you begin rocking quickly back and forth, the grasp of his strong hands and broad fingers guiding your movements. With your hands on his chest, you lean forward desperate for friction grinding your clit against his well-groomed, smooth, hairless pubic bone.

“So close,” you whine, the added sensation being exactly what you were after.

“Not so fast,” he smirks pushing you off of him. He walks to the edge of the mattress, and grabs your ankle, swiftly tugging you to the end of the bed and bending you over. Wasting no time he enters back into you and quickly settles into a rhythm. Reaching under you he snakes his hands up over your stomach to your chest, firmly clutching your breast as he pistons his hips against your flesh. You turn back to look at him, Lana Del Rey’s words now filling the room.

You can be the boss Daddy

You can be the boss

He grins intensely, moving one hand up from your breast and wrapping it firmly around your neck, causing you let out a moan and arch your back in response.

“Mmmm you like that?” He questions.

“Fuck, Daddy, yes harder!” You instruct, pushing back on his length. Squeezing tighter, he picks up the pace of his rhythm fucking you harder as the heat in your abdomen builds.

“I can feel this sloppy cunt tightening Babygirl, come on, cum for Daddy, I know you're close,” he breathes in your ear adding slightly more pressure to your neck. His words and actions take your over the edge, the lack of oxygen and blood flow magnifying the intensity of your orgasm.

Dropping his hand from your neck, he continues to thrust into you, sounds of your audible wetness filling the room as he chases after his own release. Within moments he’s pulling out of you and finishing on the small of your back. You lay still, dangling from the edge of the bed your body wracked with pleasure and try to catch your breath while he heads to the bathroom to fetch you a washcloth. He wipes your back haphazardly and throws the cloth to the floor before sinking down on the bed next to you.

“Well, that solved one of my problems,” you huff with a smile, still trying to catch your breath. “But I’m still locked out and I can’t remember my friend's number.”

“Come on let’s get dressed I think I can help with that too,” he says with a laugh.

You locate your strewn about clothes quickly dressing in them as he slips his grey sweats back on and heads into the kitchen, you follow. He digs around in a junk drawer by the microwave and pulls out a paper clip.

“Let’s get you home beautiful, you look like you could use a nap,” he smiles, guiding you to the door with a hand on your lower back, your shirt sticking to the remnants of the poorly cleaned and now drying cum.

Back across the hall he kneels in front of your door and straightens out the paper clip guiding it into the keyhole. In a few minutes of picking your lock, your door is open.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you knew how to do that to begin with?” You question as you step inside your apartment.

“What fun would that have been?” He grins with a slight laugh.

“Well thank you for everything ..uhh.. umm,” you stutter realizing you never got his name.

“Anytime,” he smirks. “The name’s Josh, by the way, Josh Dun.”

[reduxed]

anonymous asked: ❝ What current rp trend do you hate? ❞ ✦ the be honest meme

What current rp trend do you hate?

{ mmmm i dunno if you could call it a trend within the rp community exclusively, because it’s more so a trend within fandom culture at large, but i can’t think of anything else to talk about, so we’ll go with that! the idea that if you create fiction about certain dark topics, you’re condoning said topics in real life is pretty prevalent right now, especially among younger folks. which is so grossly wrong and harmful, even if it does come from a place of wanting to protect those who are sensitive to those topics from having to stumble across them.

i feel really strongly about this subject because i’m a survivor of several different types of abuse and assault and in the process of seeing two wonderful mental health professionals to whom i owe a lot of my recovery and better understanding of how to look after myself going forward, learned that art therapy is a thing! and it doesn’t just involve doodling, painting or coloring within the lines, which are very cathartic practices in and of themselves. it can also involve taking the things you’re afraid of or the traumatizing events you’ve experienced in life and processing them through the lens of make believe scenarios, which, in layman’s terms, is basically just a form of exposure therapy. and this can be really beneficial to some! so can sharing the products. getting feedback on their creations really helps reassure the survivor / victim / what have you that the experiences and feelings they’re pouring in are understandable and able to be empathized with.

mind you, i’m absolutely not condoning posting triggering material willy nilly. or suggesting that we can’t have boundaries. anyone who knows me will also know that running into certain untagged content can set me up with a hot serving of panic attack and an hour long dissociation spell for dessert! so i totally get needing to put your foot down and keep distance where that sort of thing is concerned. i’m also a very strong advocate for curating your online experience and using the tools you have available (blacklists, and such) as well as your block and unfollow buttons very liberally. if something squicks you out, triggers you or makes you uncomfortable to absolutely any extent, then you shouldn’t have to engage with it or those who are putting it into the world. but, assuming they’re appropriately warned for and shared in spaces where minors and other unwilling parties won’t be subjected to them without consent, people should also be allowed to create art about the things they’ve lived through and/or struggle with without being called a “freak” or accused of supporting things like abuse, ped/ophilia, etc. etc. because any therapist worth their salt will tell you that fiction and fantasy are perfectly safe and beneficial outlets for dark feelings and memories. they’ve certainly been beneficial to me! i could say more, but the bottom line is, we can advocate for better tagging and tucking without condemning anyone who safely vents their trauma through art and writing. and speaking as someone who has been educating myself on all of the nuance of this matter for the past ten years, seeing so many extreme, angry, black and white takes that go against really fundamental points of psychology and therapy is disheartening at best, personally offensive at worst. }