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honeywiththemoneyloa222 · 16 days

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Why the Void State is so easy?

When bloggers say the void is easy

They’re not lying

Here’s why

Every time you fall asleep you lose awareness of the 3D

During this time

Everything around you does not exist because you are in your 4D

Which is why entering the void is easy

You’re doing EXACTLY what you do when you fall asleep

You just lose awareness of the 3D!!!

Only difference is now

You’re doing it on purpose

You’re just becoming aware that you are pure consciousness

There are lots of moments in life where we are no longer aware of focusing on the 3D

When we zone out in class

Daydreaming about our crush

Thinking what we’re gonna do when we get home from school or whatever

During these moments we do not focus on the 3D

And it feels good

To daydream

About our desires if about our favorite person or food of whatever

Because in that particular situation you are just thinking of something that makes you feel good

You’ve ever daydreamed so hard you can physically feel what you’re imagining? It takes you away from your reality

Which is why people snap their fingers at you to snap you back into “reality”

But What is reality?

Reality to me

Is whatever you assume

Whatever you want

If you’re sitting in class hungry

But you’re daydreaming about a juicy cheeseburger

I mean think about it

It’s got the perfect amount of cheese

Lettuce tomato onions the meat is cooked to your desire crispy or soft buns

(Damn I’m getting hungry)

Be honest

You just went

“Mmm” didn’t you?

Because when you daydream

It results in feelings cuz our body it reacting to whatever we’re thinking about causing emotions

Emotions play a key part in our self confidence

If you think negatively you’ll feel bad about yourself

Think positive thoughts and you’ll feel good

It’s this easy because you’re simply giving your positive thoughts a label and by labeling them you’re giving them importance

So when it comes to the void state

Reality Shifting manifesting Lucid Dreaming etc whatever

Feel

The key is to FEEL

Your thoughts

Feel your desires as you visualize them

Many people label things and give it importance

By saying you “failed” to enter the void of to shift

You’re giving it power and importance

STOP DOING THAT ✋

Because the only powerful thing here is you

There’s nothing in this world you can’t have Sugar

If you want it a you it is yours

It’s yours

Failure in my opinion IS an option if you assume you’ll fail

Then you will

Don’t make this an option for yourself

“I’m gonna TRY to enter the void tonight”

Yeah bitch that’s exactly what you always do

You TRY

You gave that word importance

By doing so

You’re only stuck thinking and feeling

That all you are able to do is TRY

No you are GOING TO

There’s no trying there’s doing

When we call ourselves a procrastinator or lazy we give that word importance

By giving it that label

We’re making it harder for us to change our ways

When we say we are depressed

We’re giving it power

STOP PUTTING LABELS ON SHIT THAT DOESN’T EVEN RESONATE WITH YOU

So when meditating for the void

Your desires are that cheeseburger(sorry for any vegans here)

Thoughts create feelings

When we think about something bad

“Omg what if this what if that?”

Etc

You’re going to start panicking

Mental disorders, intrusive thoughts are JUST like this

Coming from someone who used to deal with countless mental issues

I’ve been knowing this

So think about it the longer we let in unwanted thoughts we go crazy obsessing over them to the point where we start hearing or seeing things because our minds told us so

This is what created delusion fear

And something as simple as a thought could cause you to feel very negative thing as if it were real

If you think about something negative and it creates negative feelings and energy

Not only did you give it power but you’re letting it consume your energy

Why?

If you can think negatively

You can think positively

Like I said before

It’s YOUR brain

Why are you fighting it?

You’re fighting yourself OVER yourself and you’re still losing??? Huh

Babe how you losing a war that YOU started??

And why are you letting fuck ass thoughts that don’t resonate with you win?

If it doesn’t resonate with your soul it’s not meant for you and if it’s not meant for you then it will never be true

Because thoughts are thoughts

They’re the results of whatever you spend our time obsessing over

If you’re always talking about your crush

You’re gonna think about them 24/7 right?

Stop thinking

Start feeling

It’s ok to daydream

But don’t constantly think and obsess over your desires

Because of f you already had your desired bf or your desired face you wouldn’t obsess over it

LIVE IN THE END

This is your movie

If you you can skip to the best part and just stay there

Life is a movie

Who cares if nobody comes to watch and support

Who cares if it’s not interesting for some people

It only has to make sense for you

It only has to make you happy

The 3D is just here

The 4D is the REAL reality

In the 4D you are everything you wanna be

In the 3D you are not

Why?

Well bitch you’re not connecting with your 4D self

Because your 4D self

Is YOU

The 3D is dead

3D you exists because of her assumptions

You might think this is clicking

But the 4D you gets it

The 3D you does not

She needs to disconnect from HER reality

In order to be in tune with her 4D reality

So she can live in her real true reality

You need to connect with your 4D

The 3D is the cover of a book

It can be changed if you(the author) doesn’t like it

But the 4D is the inside of the book once it’s been published

You’re the author of your own life

Don’t hand someone else the pen

Create the story(reality) that YOU want to see and live in

Add new characters

Create plot twists

Because the best thing about being the author of your own life

Is nobody gets to tell you how to write your story

If you don’t like how you’re living

Turn the page💗💗

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bedsyandco · 2 months

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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊

✰ PAIRING — fem!reader x quinn hughes

✰ SUMMARY — in which you and Quinn are fighting but he can’t leave without letting you know he loves you!!

✰ CONTENT — a little angst I guess, the angst isn’t really present in the fic, it’s more about the resolving of the angst. cuteness. quinn putting up with his girl’s stubborn ass. overuse of baby, I’m sorry 😭

✰ WC — 0.93K

✰ NOTE — I’m trying to get back into regularly posting blurbs and fics! I’m sorry my account has been so dry lately! Ily and thanks for sticking with me <3

you make a pointed effort not to look in quinn's direction as he enters the kitchen, keeping your glare firmly planted on your cup that coffee was slowly pouring into.

quinn knew you had seen him enter the kitchen, your shoulders had tensed the moment he walked into the room, but your eyes didn't flicker to his like they normally would, and he was fine with that. he was sure that if you did direct you attention towards him it would only be to start yelling at him. again.

he follows his normal morning routine, taking out the toaster and the bagels but hesitates after putting one in. he's unsure if he should be toasting yours, not because he's being petty over the fact that you weren't making him coffee like you normally would, simply because he's never met a more stubborn person in his life, and he wasn't sure if you'd eat it if he did toast it for you.

quinn allows the silence to drag on for a few minutes before breaking it. "you're coming to the game tonight right?” he asks

“probably,” you answer softly and quinn sighs, dropping another bagel in the toaster

quinn moves to the spot next to you, making his breakfast bagel on the counter and you resist the urge to kiss his cheek and cuddle into him like you normally would. he was even wearing his blue hoodie today, the one he knew was your favourite.

you make your way to the living room table, taking a seat on a chair and pretending to read the paper that was laying on the table. your mind was way too busy to actually focus on the words on the page but it was better than looking like you were contemplating what happened earlier that morning.

it was a stupid fight really, stemming from the fact that quinn left his dishes in the sink when you’ve repeatedly told him to just put it in the dishwasher, like how hard can it be? from there on some petty insults were exchanged as a result of exhaustion and frustration building up from the long week.

there’s a few minutes of silence again, the only sounds coming from the kitchen where Quinn was making your bagel. it’s not unusual for there to be silence in the morning, neither you or quinn were morning people. but that’s usually peaceful silence, this was tension-filled silence.

you see quinn approaching in your peripheral and a few seconds later he placed your bagel in front of you. “eat that,” he says, more like orders. and hesitates for a few seconds. he wasn’t sure if you wanted him to sit with you, or if you’d rather just be left alone.

your heart clenches a little when after a few seconds of hovering he decides to move towards the living room and plops down on the couch, eating his breakfast alone.

you were so in your head you didn’t realize the time had passed so quickly and before you knew it, quinn was getting ready to leave, putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys.

letting out a heavy sigh he makes his way towards you, gently cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss to your head and your cheek.

“Have a good day baby, I’ll see you tonight. I love you,” he says before turning to leave but you grab his hand before he gets the chance to

“I’m sorry-“ you start to apologize but he cuts you off

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, you’re right you’re not my mother and I’m a grown man, I can clean up after myself,” he says a little teasingly, recalling your words from earlier.

“Well yes, but you also apologized for it and I blew it way out of proportion. I’ve had a horrible week and I took my frustrations out on you and I’m sorry,” you say and his gaze softens, pulling your hand to tug you out of the chair and into his chest

“It’s okay baby. I know you’ve had a stressful week, we all have those. God knows I have them and I take it out on you way more than you do to me. I’ll argue with you about dishes in the sink if that’s what you need to let off some steam, as long as we can make up again before one of us has to leave. I don’t like being away from you knowing you’re pissed at me. At least when I’m home I get to see how sexy you look when you glare at me from across the room,” Quinn says, placing a kiss just below your ear and you shiver a little when his beard scratches the skin there.

“Well there’s other ways we can blow off steam rather than arguing,” you suggest and Quinn lets out a soft laugh against your neck

“You wanna show me?” he mumbles, hands falling to your ass and you laugh pushing him away

“Maybe tonight, you’re gonna be late,” you say, walking to the kitchen and grabbing the lunch you packed for Quinn before he even came downstairs

“You sure it’s safe to eat?” Quinn teases, knowing you made it when you were still mad

“Your sandwich may be a little spicier than usual, but you’ll live,” you say, patting his chest and he laughs, giving you a quick peck before he’s out the door.

not even his plate and coffee mug from breakfast sitting in the sink was enough to remove the smile on your face after that.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine

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beskarandblasters · 3 months

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The Gunslinger

Boxer!Abby Anderson x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist

Author’s note: From the results of my poll! Next up is Gym Owner!Abby and an Abby x Reader x Ellie roommate threesome!! (｡◕‿◕｡)

Summary: Your friend, Tyler, drags you to your first boxing match one night. You're expecting to not have any fun at all until you lay your eyes on The Gunslinger also known as Abby Anderson. She spots you during the match but you chalk it up to random eye contact she makes with her fans. What happens when she finds you alone after the match?

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak au, idk if the boxing rules + the match are accurate I am but a simpleton, soft dom!Abby, dub con (reader has consumed alcohol), semi public sex, oral sex (reader receiving), strap sucking, strap fucking (reader receiving), Abby refers to the strap as her cock, reader is shorter than Abby but than that no physical descriptions used, nipple play, pet names (good girl & pretty girl), slight degradation (whore), no aftercare, no use of y/n

You’re not going to enjoy yourself. No one in their right mind wants to spend their evening sitting shoulder to shoulder in uncomfortable stands, surrounded by drunk assholes screaming their heads off. And yet here you are, sitting shoulder to shoulder in said uncomfortable stands, holding your overpriced beer in one hand and covering your ear with the other. You’re wearing a skirt and the itchy wood is irritating the back of your thighs. This was all a mistake. Why did you agree to this?

Oh right, it’s because your friend Tyler convinced you to come.

“Can you at least act like you’re having a good time? We’re right in the front row,” he says, pulling your hand away from your ear.

“I’ll try but no promises.”

“You’ll change your mind once you see the Gunslinger, trust me.”

“What’s so special about her?” you ask, chugging your beer so you don’t have to hold it any longer.

“One of the best sluggers I’ve ever seen. Seriously, her uppercuts are devastating.”

“Whatever you say,” you respond, rolling your eyes.

“Do you wanna know why they call her the Gunslinger?” he asks. After every response he turns his gaze across the ring, staring at something but you can’t make out what.

“Sure.”

“Because she’s got the fucking cannons, man.”

“Cannons and guns are two different things.”

“You know what I meant. Seriously, the biceps on this woman are insane.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You’ll be eating your words later.”

He turns his gaze away from you again and this time you see what he’s looking at– a woman sitting in the front row on the opposite side of the ring. She notices him and smiles. You recognize her as the woman he was chatting up when he was in line grabbing your beers.

“You’ve been making eyes at her since we got here.”

“I have not.”

“Yes, you have. And I’d be willing to bet she’s into you, too.”

“...You really think so?”

You open your mouth to respond but Tyler interrupts and so does the crowd, your ears ringing from their boisterous shouts. The announcer steps into the ring, microphone in one hand and the other raised in the air. He’s wearing a black suit and a wide grin, just admiring the way the audience cheers for him, not even one of the boxers.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! And welcome to tonight’s match. Tonight promises to be a classic with the lineup we have for ya.”

“First up we got a rookie in the ring. Fighting out of the blue corner is the Iron Fist, Fiona Finster!”

You turn your head towards the hallway the announcer is pointing at where you see the silhouette of a woman; tall, bulky, a fucking unit. She steps into the ring and sheds her silky white robe, embroidered with The Iron Fist in royal blue lettering. She’s wearing a black sports bra, royal blue shorts, and gloves to match the lettering on her robe. The audience cheers for her but you’re stuck staring at the sheer size of her. If this is a rookie… then what does the Gunslinger look like?

“Next up we have a legend entering the ring. You know her. You love her. Fighting out of the red corner. It’s the Gunslinger, Abby Anderson!”

Entering the ring is a woman who makes the Iron Fist look like a wimp. She’s taller and absurdly muscular, wearing black boxing gloves. Her robe is also black and on the back, in shiny silver letters, it reads The Gunslinger. She takes it off and hands it to who is presumably her coach. Once the robe is gone you can see everything much better and Tyler was right. She really does have the fucking cannons. Her skin is shiny, the bright lights reflecting off her muscles, and her dirty blonde hair is pulled back into a braid. She scans the crowd, mouth curled into a smirk as she watches how the audience cheers for her. She’s confident, well-liked and she knows it. You feel no better than a man the way you’re ogling her, admiring the way the muscles in her back stretch out the fabric of the charcoal gray sports bra she’s wearing. She’s just… impressive in every way and with a body like that the nickname Gunslinger feels earned.

Before she’s finished showing off for the crowd her eyes land on you, meeting your gaze and flashing you a smile. Your cheeks heat up in… embarrassment? No, that’s not right. Flattery? Maybe.

Or it’s probably because you just formed a strong attraction to this woman. And it’s probably the look on your face that gave it away. Your eyes go wide as you stare at her, your mouth falling open in a soft O.

Whatever, the eye contact probably didn’t mean anything. She probably does that with lots of people in the audience; her fans. Unless…

No stop right there. She’s a professional and you’re just a spectator, nothing more. That meant nothing.

The referee enters the ring and goes over the rules with the two women. And once again as she’s listening to the ref she looks past his head and glances at you again. The eye contact is intense, almost too much to bear but you can’t look away. It’s the type of eye contact one would show someone if they’re trying to assert their dominance. As far as you’re concerned, she can dominate you all she wants.

The boxers bump gloves and the first round begins. It’s one of the most enthralling sporting events you’ve ever witnessed. Tyler hands you his beer, too focused on the match to worry about drinking it. But you’re not about to waste the shitty, overpriced beer so you down it, setting the plastic cup on the floor. Despite being an absolute unit, the Gunslinger is quick on her feet, evading most if not all of the Iron Fist’s punches. Every blow the Gunslinger delivers is powerful, making you wince just from observing them. You’re actually enjoying yourself but you don’t know if it’s from the riveting match or if it’s because you’re a little tipsy. Regardless, this is the best turn of events. And the Gunslinger is easy on the eyes.

The match flies by round after round until it’s the final one. You’ve never been to a boxing match before but supposedly the judges don’t announce the score until the match is over.

But that wouldn’t even matter.

Because the Gunslinger delivers a devastating blow to the Iron First– a knockout, right in her jaw. The opponent is off her feet for more than ten seconds. And once the referee finishes his count to ten the match is over. The crowd erupts into overwhelming celebratory cheers.

“And the winner is Abby The Gunslinger Anderson!” the announcer exclaims.

Everyone rises from the stands, hands in the air and cheering loudly. The Gunslinger is presented with a gold belt, throwing it over her shoulder like a sash. She raises her gloved hands in the air, basking in all the applause. She makes eye contact with you again for the third time. This has to mean something, right?

Before she exits the ring, she winks at you, smiling once more. And with that, she’s gone and while you’re left reeling from the intense eyefucking the crowd starts to leave, moving as a large hoard.

“Fuck, Tyler! Go find that girl before she leaves!” you say, elbowing him.

“Really? You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you out front. Just go talk to her before she leaves,” you say, urging him to go.

You remain on the bench, waiting for the crowd to dissipate before moving. The night’s events replay in your mind and you’re amazed you had any fun. Though, it’s hard to tell if you had fun because of the boxing or because of subtle flirting from the Gunslinger. Either way, you’d come back for another match.

Eventually, the crowd disperses and you start to leave, heading to the parking lot to meet Tyler. You’re about to push the door open when a hand on your shoulder stops you in your tracks. Expecting it to be Tyler you turn around and ask, “Did you get her number or what?”

“Whose number?”

Except it’s not Tyler. It’s the Gunslinger.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you were my friend.”

“It’s just me.”

You’re stunned, mouth opening to speak but no words coming out.

“Abby,” she continues.

“Right! That was a good match,” you say, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

“Thanks,” she chuckles, “I’ve never seen you here before. This your first one?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“Did you like it?” she asks, raising her arm above her head and leaning against the wall, inching closer to you. She towers over you but you catch a glimpse of what’s behind her— people who are still lingering around, just like you.

She catches you looking past her and looks over her shoulder. She exhales and says, “Don’t worry about them. Focus on this.”

“Right,” you say with a shaky breath, painfully aware of all the eyes on you. She turns her gaze back to you, blue eyes staring into yours. Now she’s closer you notice the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks.

“Or I can take you somewhere that’s more… private?”

You pause for a moment, thinking about Tyler before quickly deciding that he’s still talking to that girl. You didn’t get a text from him either.

“Please,” you say.

She stands up straighter, removing her arm from the wall and grabbing your hand. She leads you away from the exit doors and towards the hallway she entered, walking right past the group of people who noticed you two in the first place. She holds her head high, not caring about the stares as she brings you to her locker room.

She shuts the door behind you and immediately presses you up against the wall. She palms your thigh, hand inching up closer towards the hem of your skirt.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she says in your ear. You don’t need to see her face to know that she’s wearing a smirk.

You tell her your name with a shaky breath and she repeats it to herself before saying, “Are you gonna be my good girl?”

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, a shiver running down your spine.

She grabs you by the waist, dragging you to the bench and forcing you to sit down. She kneels on the floor, one hand rubbing your inner thigh and the other pushing you so you’re lying down on the bench. You hear her reach for her bag and out of the corner of your eye you spot her grabbing a pair of trainer’s scissors, like the kind used to remove gauze and tape from wrapped hands. She hikes up your skirt and you feel the cold metal slide across your skin as she cuts off your panties.

“Shit,” you breathe out, feeling her muscular hands pull the fabric off of you.

“Look at you, already dripping for me,” she says, pulling your thighs apart. “Did you get wet watching me fight?”

“Fuck… Yes, I did,” you admit.

“Eyeing me up and down like a whore in my own ring?” she says, getting closer to your pussy. She goes to eat you out, mouth hovering over your clit and warm breath sending a shiver up your core.

“Eyes on me or you don’t get cum. Got it?”

You rest on your elbows, propping yourself up to get a good view of her face buried between your thighs. Her tongue laps at your pussy, swirling around your clit all while her eyes are on you, watching the way your mouth falls open and the way your chest heaves. Her tongue circles your entrance, nose grinding against your clit as her strong arms wrap around your thighs. Fuck, her arms. The veins bulge from her muscles as she keeps a firm grip on you, keeping you flush against her face while she eats you out. The pleasure builds and for a split second close your eyes. But that just won’t do.

She stops, pulling her face back slightly and saying, “What did I say, pretty girl? Eyes on me.”

You open your eyes again, meeting her stern gaze before she goes back to licking your cunt. She squeezes your thighs tighter as she flicks her tongue around your clit before sucking it. A loud moan escapes your lips as she brings you to the edge of orgasm. You cum hard against her face, pussy clenching around nothing and thighs shaking under her grasp. She laps up every last drop of your release before letting you go, rising from the floor and reaching for her bag again.

“Strip for me,” she commands while searching for something.

You pull yourself off the bench, legs shaking underneath you. As you strip your clothes you watch her grab a black strap-on from her bag.

“Do you do this with all your groupies?” you tease.

“Just the pretty ones,” she says, shedding her clothes and putting on the strap, “Now, back on the bench.”

You sit, waiting for further instructions, but instead, she grabs the back of your head and brings you to the tip of her strap.

“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” she says, stroking your cheek lovingly.

You open your mouth and take the tip of the strap in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the base. You bob your head up and down, making sure the strap gets nice and slick, all while maintaining eye contact like you know she likes. Her hand continues to caress your cheek as you suck her off, putting effort in like it’s a real cock she can get pleasure from.

But once she’s decided you’ve done enough, she pulls out of her mouth and pushes you down on the bench. Her strong hands pull your thighs apart again, the tip of the strap aligning with your entrance. Her hands grip your waist as she thrusts into you in one swift motion. You gasp at the sudden length and girth but she brings a hand to the outline of your breast, caressing it before pinching your nipple and saying, “You can take it.”

You nod, looking into her piercing eyes and spreading your legs even wider to accommodate how broad she is. She pinches your other nipple as she draws her hips back and slams into you. Off to your right, you hear people outside the door, shuffling down the hallway. But you’re unable to hold back your moans, not with the way she’s fucking you.

“Abby, what if someone hears?” you manage to choke out.

“Let them,” she says, thrusting into you harder.

“Oh, fuck,” you curse, stars dancing in your vision.

Her hands move to your waist and her strong arms hold you down, her fingers sinking into your skin as she grips you tightly. She pulls you into her all while she thrusts into you. And with one last slam of her hips, you come undone around her, pussy clenching her cock while she fuck you through your release.

“That’s right. Cum on my cock, pretty girl,” she says, her jaw slack and watching how pretty you look when you cum.

Once you’re done, she pulls out of you, standing up to take off the strap and get dressed again. You lie there trying to catch your breath and once she’s clothed she kneels by your side, handing you your clothes and saying, “Come to another match sometime.”

She kisses you, hand gripping your grin before she rises from the floor and grabs her bag, leaving you there in the locker room; a naked, shivering mess.

You sit up and reach for your phone, hastily texting Tyler to tell him you’ll be out front soon. While you wait for his response you notice that your shredded panties are gone, meaning that she must’ve taken them, another kind of trophy for her from this evening. He responds with a thumbs up and you collapse back down onto the bench, giving yourself more time to recollect yourself and replaying the night’s activities in your head.

Maybe boxing isn’t so bad.

Banners by saradika, dividers by firefly-graphics

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #abby tlou #abby anderson #tlou 2 remastered #tlou 2 #abby anderson fanfic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for venting to my friend about my fiancée?

I (24M) have been with my fiancée (26NB) for about 3 years now. I try to avoid venting to my friends about it when I’m having little relationship annoyances because I used to do that for a while and it ended up with them just getting a horrible image of her because when good things happen that make me happy I would be responding IRL with my fiancée or gushing about it publicly e.g. on Twitter which most of my friends don’t use, vs when bad things happened I’d go to them to vent directly so they were only seeing the shitty moments. They would just always tell me she sucked or to break up with her which just wore on me because I don’t want to do that, they know I don’t want to do that, they know I don’t think I need to. Our relationship is super affectionate, has helped me massively in improving mentally and socially and in my confidence, makes me genuinely happy, and is for the most part, with certain problems we’ve been working on aside, healthy.

It’s not a communication issue or anything, I’ll address any issues with my fiancée directly as well and we’ll resolve it between us, just sometimes I’d feel the need to vent out my upset first while calming down or talking through what to say to her before I brought it up etc.

However this changed recently. my fiancée has always been a very physical person, she’s cuddly and loves kisses and just general touching, and that also translates into her playfully hitting me a lot, which I’ll do as well. Smacking each other on the ass when we pass each other, jokingly hitting each other’s arms (gently) when we’re making fun of each other, stuff like that. Very occasionally this will bother me (the other day she pinched my face hard enough that it hurt for like 20mins afterwards) but for the most part I genuinely could not care less and I take it as all in good fun.

She has never hit me in anger before, until today. She was playing a video game and died, and I laughed while sitting next to her when I saw it, and she just turned around and hit me full force. Like, harder than she’s ever hit before, and causing genuine pain. Usually I would just brush it off because like I said she hits me in a joking way a lot, but when I kind of gave a startled “ow” she just looked at me and hissed “Don’t laugh” through her teeth and she looked genuinely pissed off, and the force behind the hit just caught me completely off guard. It was also very very sudden because we’d been talking normally and light-heartedly, had even been cuddling a few minutes before, and although she was pretty clearly exasperated at the game (sighing, saying “oh my god” when the fight was going downhill) I didn’t think it was serious anger, so her abruptly whipping around and hitting me like that was so sudden and whiplashy I didn’t even have time to register it.

I have PTSD (C-PTSD? don’t remember what the specific diagnosis was) from my last relationship which was abusive in pretty much every way you can think of, and one of my biggest triggers that has been relevant in this relationship as a result of it is raised voices/anger around me (not necessarily At me, just like when my fiancée is getting frustrated or stressed and she’ll start hitting her keyboard or shouting and it’ll make me start panicking), but this is the first time I’ve had to confront being triggered by a physical violence thing. I started dissociating like hell so I left the room when she was distracted by the game and ended up slipping out of the house to call one of my best friends via Discord and lowkey cry about it

I genuinely don’t really remember what I said, the gist was just that I’d been triggered by my fiancée hitting me in anger and that I needed to calm down before I went back. This may have been a dick move because this friend is a mutual friend of me and my fiancée - I knew her first and am closer to her, but she recently met my fiancée in person for the first time and they seemed to get along well, and we’re in several servers and stuff together.

After I was done I went back in and my fiancée apologised for hitting me so hard. I said thank you and we moved on

But afterwards she confronted me because my friend had sent me a message after that basically just checking in on me and my fiancée had seen the message on my laptop that she was using to game. I usually have my Discord on Do Not Disturb when she’s using my computer just so she’s not bothered by notifications beeping at her constantly so I’m not sure if it wasn’t on for some reason and it popped up on-screen or if she minimised the game and saw it somehow, but she was incredibly upset with me because she said I’d made her out to sound physically abusive. I did explain that I’d made clear to the friend she’d never seriously hit before this, but she said that didn’t matter because it was still giving off that impression and that it was unfair because her hitting me was done in a moment of frustration/anger and I shouldn’t have laughed at the game.

I apologised and we dropped it but I do notice that since then she’s been on my computer/phone more often and she’s slid into a few of my friends’ (and I mean My friends, not ones she talks to or knows and not ones I’d said anything about this to) asking if I’ve ever spoken about her and if she can give her side of the story. My friends came straight to me about it because they felt uncomfortable with what they saw as being prompted to talk about me behind my back.

Reasons I don’t think I’m TA: She hit me, and I know she vents about me to her friends too, and although it does bother me that her friends don’t like me because of it (for I assume much the same reason some of mine don’t like her for, AKA only hearing about negative stuff) I’ve always maintained she has the right to do it. I think everyone should be able to vent to friends about partners or family and vice versa in private because venting is normal and as long as it’s not dishonest or just pure shit-talking them I think it can be helpful and even healthy.

Reasons I think I might be TA: I went to a mutual friend so she also has something to lose if this friend forms a negative opinion of her, I laughed at her dying in the game even though I know she gets incredibly frustrated and competitive in games, and I’ve never had an issue with her hitting me more playfully before so she may have just misjudged how hard it was.

So AITA for telling my friend my fiancée hit me / getting so upset about it or is it just PTSD acting up and making me overdramatise something that is basically on the same level as the joke hitting?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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heavenlyvision · 6 months

Text

When hell freezes over

Word count: 5.1k

Pairing: Bi-Han x afab!Reader

A/N: I make no apologies for what I’ve written, I do however, apologise for this coming out before part four of the Crushing series. I saw God (Bi-Han in mk 1) and got possessed by the Holy Spirit (horniness). I’ve noticed tumblr is lacking in fics for my mk cravings, which resulted in this. This fic was initially going to be 1k of only smut, but I got carried away and added a minor plot line :3

Summary: Bi-Han keeps staring at you and you don’t know why but it really starts to get on your nerves, especially when he won’t even admit that he is doing it.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, creampie, voyeurism (they fuck outside but they don’t get caught), strong language, pure filth, minor plot, mean Bi-Han, Bi-Han is ooc prolly but he’s also a bitch still, so not completely ooc

Staying at the fire temple means you’ve seen Bi-Han around, always with a scowl on his face and that’s if he’s taken his mask off, but you can always tell he’s scowling under the mask too, with the way his eyebrows pinch. You’ve never actually held a conversation with him, he’s a bit unapproachable and when you do speak, he usually grunts in response. His way of acknowledging you without actually acknowledging you.

Lord Liu Kang has been bringing all of Earth Realms potential heroes together and training them at the Fire Temple, you just so happened to be one of the first heroes he came looking for. You have power, you’re not disillusioned though, you can see in the way Lord Liu Kang moves and speaks, that he already knows who his hero is and it’s not you, which you’re fine with. The idea of fighting against Outworld’s warriors is, to be blunt, scary. You mean to say, that the idea of fighting Sub-zero frightens you, you cannot imagine what kind of formidable opponents live in the other realms.

The other’s Liu Kang has managed to gather are all very kind but also intimidating, you’re surrounded by powerful men all day and that sets you on edge a bit, as a result you tend to be spending more time by yourself in the quieter areas of the temple. They’re not hard to find if you look for them, and the temple has a sense of tranquillity. Ever since you’ve been here, you find yourself meditating now, more than you ever have in your whole life.

On this particular day, you’re sitting on a large rock away from the temple facing all the greenery surrounding the area. Footsteps approaching you bring your awareness back to your environment, but you don’t move or open your eyes, you aren’t really in the mood to be disturbed at this current moment, for all they know, you could be really close to reaching enlightenment.

The person moves to stand in front of you but doesn’t say anything, you try to hold steady and focus but their breathing is disturbing you. In the end your resolve gives in and your shoulders slump as you look up at the perpetrator of disturbance.

You feel a bit silly as you realise that the disturbance is Lord Liu Kang himself, “I could’ve been close to enlightenment only to be disturbed by you at the last moment.”

He looks amused but only slightly, “If you had been that close to enlightenment, I doubt my presence would’ve disturbed you.”

“You can’t know that,” you pout a touch.

He gives you a polite smile in return, “Dinner is going to be served soon, will you grace us with your presence?”

He’s giving you a light ribbing; you’ve been here a while and like to think you’ve gained rapport with him. The way he will indulge you slightly makes you think you’ve succeeded in landing on his good side, though you’re not certain he has a bad side, and if he does, you don’t want to be anywhere near it.

“I hadn’t realised it had gotten this late,” looking up at the sky you can see the sun setting, you’ve been out here far longer than you had expected.

Suddenly, you feel eyes on the back of your head and a shiver runs down your spine in response, without turning around you acknowledge the secondary presence you didn’t initially register.

“Good evening to you too, Sub-zero.”

“Mmmf,” he grunts in your direction as a response.

You address Lord Liu Kang, “he seems gruntier than usual.”

“Perhaps, he is the one who disturbed your enlightenment,” he dips his head towards you as he says this, in an attempt to keep the joke between the two of you.

You chuckle in response before leaping down from the rock, “Alright, let’s eat!”

❆˖°

Dinner with everyone is always a touch rowdy, it never used to be, it used to be quieter but with the additions of Kung Lao, Raiden, Kenshi and especially Johnny Cage, it has gotten livelier around the temple. You find that Kuai Liang, Tomas and Bi-Han frequent dinners here now too, you suspect that them never actually leaving anymore is due to the fact that Lord Liu Kang has gathered all his potential warriors.

Everyone has bets on who they think it is and most of them are betting on themselves but you’re certain Lord Liu Kang has his pick and you’re betting it’s Raiden, the way he looks and considers him makes you think he’s his top pick.

You feel his eyes on you again from across the table, the shiver he sends through you running down your spine again. You aren’t sure why your body reacts to him like that, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it either. Preferably, he would stop staring at you so your body would stop reacting, but he is such a starer, and an angry starer too.

Looking up you lock eyes with Bi-Han, but he doesn’t look away, typical, you think, you look away instead and attempt to stay engaged in the conversations happening around you. But you know he is still staring at you and to be honest, it’s starting to get on your nerves. Taking a deep breath, you look back over at him again and he is still staring at you, you’re getting pissed now, what is his problem. He can be scary but scary is only scary until you’re annoyed.

“What is your problem?” You direct at him quietly; you don’t want everyone at the table seeing you starting a fight with the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.

He looks a little taken aback by your bluntness but only for a second, “nothing.” He shrugs.

His voice is stupid and deep, and you’re annoyed at him because why is he still fucking staring at you. People normally have enough humility to look away when confronted but he looks nonplussed by your angry confrontation.

“Well, then stop staring at me,” you shoot back, trying to remain unnoticed by the rest of the table.

“I am not staring,” he replies coolly.

What the fuck? “You definitely are though; I can feel your eyes stabbing me.”

He purses his lips in response, “My eyes are not capable of stabbing you.”

You’re frowning now, deeply, “Well… they are!” Your voice raises a bit with your increasing annoyance. Why won’t he just admit that his eyes are stabbing you.

Unfortunately, everyone has caught onto your little argument now, which prompts Lord Liu Kang to interject.

“Is everything okay?” He directs the question at you.

“Tell your guard dog to stop stabbing me with his stupid eyes,” you reply, completely exasperated with how dumb all of this is.

From the other end of the table, you hear Johnny start laughing, thud, and that was Kenshi kicking him under the table in response, attempting to get him to stop.

Johnny exclaims, “Ouch, what the fu–”

“– I am not his guard dog!” Bi-Han is angry now, he was mildly amused before, you suspect you’ve managed to hit a nerve. “I am the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei!”

You roll your eyes at him, “You’re the Grandmaster of stabbing me with your eyes!” You’re not quite sure why you’ve picked this hill to die on, but you’re committed now.

He looks pissed and you feel like you should be intimidated but you’re so irked by his behaviour that you wouldn’t care if he was God itself.

Lord Liu Kang clears his throat from the head of the table, “Maybe you should both apologise to each other and move past this.”

“No.” Both Bi-Han and you reply at the same time.

“Just admit you were staring, and I will apologise to you,” you direct this at Bi-Han.

“I wasn’t staring,” he leans back with his big stupid, defined, arms crossed over his chest.

You feel like you’re going to have an aneurysm, why is he committed to lying about this. “I know you were staring.”

“How would you know that?” He asks.

Is he being intentionally dense, “how could I not know?” You’re glaring back at him.

Lord Liu Kang clasps his hands together, a loud clap sound ringing out across the silence that had fallen over the group. Well, it was almost silent, Johnny is still muffling his laughing down the other end of the table.

“Thank you for dinner, Lord Liu Kang, I’ll be returning to my quarters early tonight.” You stand up and walk out of the room.

You miss the completely confused and exhausted look Kuai Liang gives his older brother.

❆˖°

Tonight, you find yourself tossing and turning, the evenings usually leave you a bit restless and you will fairly regularly leave your quarters to wander the grounds. Though, this evening you are restless for a separate reason, the result is the same, you’re leaving your quarters and wandering the Fire Temple aimlessly, inspecting things you’ve seen daily for months now.

You have got to be kidding, you think to yourself as you feel the all too familiar shiver run down your spine and set of eyes on the back of your head.

Your head drops in defeat and a deep sigh is pulled from your chest, “if I tell you to stop staring, would you? Or would you say you weren’t staring?”

You can feel him come up beside you, “Guess…”

“…I wasn’t staring,” you both say it in tandem, but you attempt to drop your voice as low as it can go to mock him.

He grunts in disapproval at you.

You aren’t sure why he’s come up to you, you’ve sequestered yourself off to a private area of the temple specifically so you could remain undisturbed, but not only did he find you, he fucking stabbed you with his stupid pretty, stupid angry eyes again. You feel like you’re not going to win whatever this battle is against him.

“Genuinely, why do you keep staring at me, and you can’t say you don’t because I know you do, I can feel when your eyes are on me,” you’re getting tired of this now, you just want an answer from him.

He doesn’t speak for a long moment; he’s probably considering how to word what he’s going to say next. All you know is if he says he doesn’t stare at you, you’re literally going to hit him in the face.

“Consider your words carefully, I am tempted to punch you right now,” you relay your feelings to him as a warning.

“I don’t stare–”

That does it, you swing around at him and go to throw a forceful punch aimed square at his nose, you’re aiming to break it. Unfortunately, for all his ego, he is indisputably more skilled than you and easily dodges your punch by moving his head to the side before he catches your forearm with one of his hands. His other hand reaches out to grab at your other arm and pulls you closer to his body, both your arms being held between your bodies. His strength keeping you in place, with his stupid well-defined arms.

You’re a little annoyed at yourself for bothering to warn him at all, you probably could’ve at least grazed him if you hadn’t.

Scowling at him you say, “I shouldn’t have given you a warning.”

“Your hit wouldn’t have landed either way, it was sloppy.”

“It was not!” Your punch was fine, he’s just being rude.

“I was trying to say I don’t stare at you,” you try to wiggle free of his grip, you swear he’s looking for a fight. His hands grab you tighter and pulls your forearms to rest on his chest, you’re forced to look up at him, “Stop, struggling, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

You gawk at him, “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who won’t admit the simple fact that you’ve been staring at me!”

He looks exhausted with you as he rolls his eyes, when did this switch? He is the unreasonable one, you were willing to apologise hours ago!

“I gaze at you.” He says it like he doesn’t have to explain further.

“I’m almost certain that is the exact same thing as staring at me.” You’re confused.

He grunts and turns his head to the side sharply, “You make everything difficult.”

“ME?” You. Are. Confused.

His head snaps back to stare you in the eyes, “YES! I look at you, I gaze at you, I find you interesting and that makes me mad. This is your fault, take responsibility.”

Oh. My. God. Does he have a crush on you? He likes you and is mad at you about it. Talk about emotionally stunted.

“I am not responsible for how you feel about me.”

“You should be.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you, he’s still holding you close.

“You undo me.” He says it quiet, like he’s ashamed of the confession but it’s the highest form of flattery you have ever received.

Your eyes are round in shock as you look at him, you won’t lie, you find yourself drawn to him. Not in spite of his intimidating, stoic nature but because of it, he’s a force of nature to be reckoned with and you think without even realising you walked headfirst into the eye of his storm. You want him and you hate that you do, but you suspect he feels the same way.

“Let me go, please.” You ask him.

He obeys your will, immediately dropping your arms but neither of you make a move to step away from the other. Your heart is racing in your chest as you continue to look up at him, you want to kiss him, but you don’t know how he’ll react to your hands reaching for him after you just tried to deck him.

You don’t have to wonder for long, his hands reach for your face, both of them landing on either side of it. He has such large hands.

“I want to kiss you and you’re going to have to tell me not to, if you don’t want me to.”

You say nothing because you really want him to kiss you and he does; he leans down towards you and when your lips meet you feel like your knees might give out.

His kiss is gentler than you would’ve expected him capable of, he holds you like you’ll break, like he’s all too aware of his strength and is making a conscious effort to not hurt you. One of his hands moves from your face, down your body and grabs at your hip, the other moving behind your neck. Your own hands move to grab at the material on his chest, holding on.

He pulls away from you, only enough to talk, his lips still brushing against yours as he speaks “Fuck, open your mouth more.”

His words shoot straight through your body, you feel like you’re shaking. You do as your told and he moves your head with the hand on the back your neck slightly. When he moves to kiss you again it’s at an angle; his mouth slotting against yours, the kiss deepening. You’re feeling lightheaded as he starts to kiss you with urgency, less gentle. His tongue licking into your mouth has a whimper leaving you against your will. He smirks against your mouth at the sound and pulls away from you.

No one has ever kissed you like that in your life, he’s so much more skilled with his mouth than you would’ve thought. You blink tears away from your eyes as you both stand close together his lips brushing against yours, teasing you.

“Kiss me again, please.”

“mmm, you’re so much more agreeable like this.” He’s smug, you don’t like that his words make your pussy throb.

Opening your mouth, you go to put up a fight, but he puts his mouth back on yours causing you to whine in response. His hands grab you tighter at the sound, and he begins walking you backwards until your back rests against the building you were standing behind.

His other hand moves from behind your neck and down your body, stopping at your tit and pawing at it. You let out a gasp at the feeling, your hands move from his chest to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hand leaves your breast and travels the length of your body, landing on your thigh, he pulls your leg up to rest on his hip.

He won’t move any closer, and you think he’s trying to be polite and not push you further than you want, but you want him so badly. Whining against him you use your leg to pull his hips into yours and he grunts against you.

Parting your lips again he looks at you, he seems pleased with the look on your face, “You look so pretty, eyes all glazed over from a kiss.”

The words are mocking but your reactions to him seem to inflate his ego, not that he needs the boost.

“I’ve never been kissed like that,” you find yourself admitting to him.

A faux pity look falls across his features, “Poor, sweet, girl, never been kissed properly.” He noses at the side of your face before his lips rest against your ear. He blows cool air against it and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine.

“mmf, not fair, you’re teasing me.” He’s mean but its turning you on to no end.

“Yeah, but I think you like it,” he pulls back to look you in the eyes again, “isn’t that right?”

A blush breaks out across your skin in response to him, you can tell it’s not a rhetorical question, but you don’t answer him.

Your lack of a response displeases him, his voice comes a little firmer, “I want an answer when I ask a question.”

“Yes, I like it.” Being forced to admit that you like how mean he is to you is embarrassing.

“I know you do.” He’s smug again, not that he ever stopped.

His lips are so close to yours, you lean forward slightly to kiss him, but he pulls away at the last second. Your head drops back against the wall, and he chuckles at you. Leaning forward again, he kisses your neck, before lightly sucking marks into it.

He mouths at the length of your neck, savouring the way you twitch and try to contain the noises you make in response. The hand holding your hip moves under your robe to cup your pussy through your panties, a whine louder than you would’ve liked is pulled from you, your blush deepening at the sound.

He talks into your neck as his fingers trace the seam of your cunt through your underwear, “You’re so sensitive, react to the smallest of my touches.”

His fingers continue to touch you through your panties, two of his fingers moving to part your lips through them. An embarrassingly wet squelching sound results from his actions. A strangled noise comes from deep in his chest and he moves his head back and looks up for a second, “Fuckin – you are so fucken, wet and I’ve not even touched you properly.” He’s looking you back in your eyes, his gaze dark, he looks like he’s being eaten alive, or wants to eat you alive.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, he talks so much, in fact, you think this is the most he’s spoken to you without you having to reply.

“Bi-Han, please –”

“Mmm say my name again.” He’s lightly grazing the seam of your pussy, never touching your clit.

“Bi-Han,” you repeat his name for him.

His voice sounds strained, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

The nickname he’s graced you with makes your heart skip, “please, touch me… properly.”

“Since you asked so sweetly.” His hand leaves you temporarily to slip down the front of your underwear, his fingers slide through your cunt, and he can feel just how wet you are now. “Jesus – ” He curses at the feel of you.

His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss again as his middle finger slowly enters you, you clench around it and you both moan into the kiss. His thumb slowly rubs circles on your clit, you jump at the contact, sensitive from neglect and desire. You’re trying to hold back whines and moans, still aware that you’re out in the open. Bi-Han doesn’t seem to care and if he does, he isn’t letting on.

He pulls back from your mouth, “God, you’re fucken – how am I gonna – fuck, look at you.”

You’re trying to grind down on his hand, desperate for more, anything he’ll give you; you’ll take; you just need more.

Gasping you say, “more Bi-Han, please.”

“Always asking so sweetly,” He slips his ring finger inside you, filling you up more. One of your hands moves from behind his neck to cover your mouth, attempting to muffle the moans trying to come out.

Both of his hands are occupied, one on your thigh holding your leg to his hip and the other stuffing your dripping wet cunt full, the sounds coming from you are making him feral and he wants your hand off your mouth. Now.

“Remove your hand, now.” He shoots you a fierce glare and you comply straight away, hand removing from your mouth and grabbing onto the arm of the hand inside you. His fingers move quicker inside you, reaching deep, hitting something that’s never been touched, your head falls back, and a whine comes from deep in your chest.

“Fuuuck, thas it, thas what I was looking for,” Bi-Han seems overjoyed at your reaction, your eyes wet and glassy from pleasure.

You aren’t sure if your hand is trying to push him away or pull him closer, your breaths are coming faster and another moan is pulled from you as he speeds up his thumb on your clit.

“fff – Bi-Han, I can’t, is too much.” It feels too good, it’s never felt like this before.

“Shuddup, you’re fine,” He leans forward so his mouth is by your ear again, “You’ve been doing so well, baby, come for me and then I’ll stuff you full of my dick, mmm?”

“ah ah, it’s different, too much – ngh –”

“Poor baby, never been finger fucked this good, mmm?” He doesn’t slow down; it feels like he speeds up.

Your moans hit a higher pitch and you feel like you’re falling apart into the palm of his hand, “thas it, doing so good,” he keeps whispering praise into your ear and then he blows cool air against your ear again. The shiver that runs through your body has your eyes crossing as you cum all over his fingers and palm with a shout of his name. He moans at the feel of your cunt spasming around his fingers.

“Thas fucken it, good girl, shit –” His fingers continue pumping into you until you start flinching away from him.

He removes his fingers from your pulsing pussy, and sucks both of them clean before shoving them in your mouth. You suck his spit and your cum from his fingers, his eyes glazing over as he watches you suck on his fingers.

He retracts his fingers from your mouth slowly and traces them down your chin, neck and chest, leaving behind a wet trail as he goes.

“Can we have sex now, please?” You ask him, you feel insatiable, he makes you insatiable.

He looks like he might melt into a puddle on the floor at your words, “yes, fuckin hell, you have beautiful manners, sweet thing.”

He pulls his pants down enough for his dick to be released from its confines, and, he was right before, how is he going to fit. “Bi-Han, you might be too big.”

“Jesu – you really know how to inflate a mans ego,” you aren’t meaning to, you are genuinely concerned he might not completely fit, “we’re gonna fucken make it fit, you okay with that?” he asks you.

You nod your head instantly, you can take it, you want to take it.

“Fucken, eager,” He states, if anyone else had said it you’d feel offended, but you know he means it as a compliment.

He spits on his hand and grabs his dick, lubing it up to make the glide easier. The display is filthy and has you wanting to get on your knees for him.

“You ready?” he asks you, and every time he checks on you it has you going dizzy.

“I’m ready,” you smile up at him, as he moves your panties to the side.

“Fuck, alright, try and relax.” He guides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing the head of it against your clit.

Slowly, he begins to push the head of his dick into your pussy hole, it’s already a tight fit. You reach out and place your palm on his shoulder, indicating to him to hold still for a minute. He stops moving forward with just his tip in you, a pinched look on his face, like he’s in pain.

“Goddamn, you’ve got such a – ngh, tight little cunt,” he sputters out, he’s doing deep breathing exercises as he waits for your okay to keep going, “mmph, trying not to cum like a fucken teenager, you’ve got a – ngh – beautiful pussy.”

You involuntarily clench around him at his words, and he grunts in response, “please, keep going, Bi-Han.”

He nods his head and continues to slowly inch into you, pausing every now and again to give you time to adjust to him. When he’s finally fully seated inside you, he lets out a deep guttural groan, you can feel his chest rumble with it. He’s so fucking big and you feel so full of him.

“Got the tightest pussy I’ve ever been in, Jesus – ngh – such a perfect – ” your cunt flutters around him at his words, “mph, you fucken like that don’t you?”

You don’t fully register that he’s asked you a question because he’s started fucking you now, and it nearly has you going cross eyed.

“Hey! I fucken – mph – asked you a question,” you make eye contact with him, eyes glazed as you look at him, “ffffucken beautiful, you look perfect, just, like, this, split open on my – ngh – cock.” He’s barely keeping it together as he starts fucking up into you.

“I said, you fucken like it when I talk to you, mmh?” He asks you again and you understand him this time.

Nodding your head you reply, “Yes I – ah – I love it when you talk to me.” You’re practically a whimpering mess at this point, “Can you go faster, plea- ah –”

Your question is cut off by his immediate acceleration in thrusts, he wanted to fuck you faster as much as you wanted him too, maybe more. Looking at the pinched look on his face you can guess he’s still holding himself back, still too aware of his own strength.

“Hah – harder, please, Bi-Han.” You can feel his dick twitch at the sound of his name coming from your lips.

“Fffff, like it rough, do you, sweet girl?” He huffs.

You agree, you think you’d agree to anything he asked of you right now.

“You are so sweet, compliant when you’re filled with my dick” he chuckles at you, but his words have your pussy clenching around him, breaking his laugh into a broken moan.

You’re gonna come, “Bi-Han, mm gonna come, please.”

“go on then, fucken – nghf – good girl, sweeeet fucken cunt. Cover my dick in your cum, go on.” Your eyes prickle with tears, you don’t think you’ve ever been this aroused in your whole life.

He’s staring down at where you’re connected, obsessed with way your cunt is creaming on his cock, forming a ring around the base of his dick, has him almost feral.

“Fuck, fuck, Bi-Han, I’m – mmph – ” He cuts off your words with a deep kiss, tongue in your mouth, taking your breath away. Bi-Han’s thumb reaches for your clit and starts rubbing harsh and fast circles into it, his precise movements and unrelenting thrusts has you coming on his dick, hard. You throw your head back, removing your lips from his, your vision cuts off dark and you can barely hear anything with the force of which you cum.

Your mouth opening in a silent scream and then a series of whimpers spill from your lips. When you can speak, you’re praising Bi-Han, wet slapping sounds continuing, he’s not stopped thrusting chasing his own peak.

“you look fucken perfect when you cum, look – ngh – so fucked out, such a good girl – taking my cock, mph,” He’s close you can tell, his dick is twitching inside you, “the sounds you make are – sshit – mmph – angelic.”

He’s such a flatterer, your cunt jumps in after shock, you decide you wanna try something. You pull his head towards you, moving your lips to his ear to tell him, “made me feel so good, Grandmaster, never cum that hard in my – ngh – life.”

You were right, he liked that, loved being called Grandmaster, his grunts and groans get louder, tailing off into whimpers. His head drops to your shoulder, resting there for a bit.

“Where – hah – where do you want it?” He asks.

“Inside please, Grandmaster, I want it, in – mmph – me.”

He whimpers at your words, “Ahh – fuck you’re gonna fucking kill me, sweet girl – nngh.”

And then he’s coming, he fills you, both of you moaning at the feeling of him releasing all of his cum inside of you, he turns his head into your neck and bites you, the shock of it has your cunt clenching on his dick.

He’s making the most amazing noises, grunting and groaning at the feel of you wrapped around him. His own cum dripping down the sides of his cock, he’s staring at it now, watching the way he moves in and out of you, the way his cum leaks out of you, down your thighs, and down his cock.

You both stay connected for a bit afterwards, basking in your highs before parting. When Bi-Han does pull out, his fingers move to shove the cum leaking out of you back inside before shifting your panties back in place. He gently places your leg back down, before tucking himself back in his pants.

You stay resting your weight up against the wall, you’re not certain you can walk, your legs feel like they might cave in if you try to move.

“I like you,” Bi-Han says simply.

“I’d hope so,” you reply, smiling brightly at him. He looks soft for you. “I suppose, I like you too, even if you do stare at me.”

“I don’t stare.”

❆˖°

Part two

A/N: The end, I’m interested in making a second part for this if people want it, I’m also willing to write for almost every mk1 character. I disappeared because I inhaled the new game, long time mk whore over here. Requests are open if anyone wants to ask for someone specific. And if any of my Crushing series peoples read this, I am writing the fourth part, and it will definitely come out this month!

#subzero #subzero x reader #subzero smut #subzero x reader smut #bi han x reader #bi han x reader smut #fanfic #bi han x you #smut #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 smut

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zepskies · 2 months

Text

Take Me Home - Part 2

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments on Part 1! I know many of you have questions, and I promise, all will be revealed in due time…

(Also, what do you guys think of new chapters releasing on Wednesdays and Sundays instead of just Fridays? A week is a long time, isn't it? 😂)

Song Inspo: “City Grown Willow” by Radio Company

Word Count: 5,200

Tags/Warnings: Tension, hurt/comfort, major angst, and more comfort of a different sort.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay

Tensions were running high at Sunny Day Excursions.

Over the next few days, Mary continued to press the issue of you staying in Montana with little passive aggressive comments that got on your damn nerves. You proverbially dug your heels in, and became even more stubborn and taciturn as a result.

Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

However, the entire camp was shaken the night Paige and Luke disappeared on a hike. Buck and Sunny assured everyone that they were doing their best to look for the couple, but come the morning, it was Emily who accidentally found Luke in the woods, bleeding from a head wound, and without Paige.

He claimed that they’d gone their separate ways after a fight, and he hadn’t seen her since. Paige’s suitcase and things were gone from her tent, so Sunny could only assume that she’d found her way back to camp and left for home by morning.

“Look, no one’s a prisoner here,” Sunny had said. “If Paige wanted to go home, then that’s up to her.”

There was still something off about it though, you felt. Emily seemed to share your thoughts; you’d heard her whispering with Avery, and Dan, another camper in his early 40s.

You started to watch Luke a bit harder from then on. As did your friend Mary, if for different reasons.

It was still early in the morning when you caught her flirting with Luke in front of your shared tent.

“A personal trainer, huh?” said Luke. His gaze flit over Mary’s form, and she allowed it with a smile. “You know, I’ve got a pretty good workout routine, but I’ll bet you can give me some tips—”

“Drink lots of water,” you said dryly as you approached the tent. You carried your sketchpad and acrylic paints in your hand, and you pushed into the tent without giving Luke and Mary more than a glance.

You heard Mary’s voice outside the tent, all girlish and flirtatious as she apologized about you, and suggested they could keep talking later. Luke readily agreed. You sat down on the edge of your bed and watched his silhouette walk away from the tent.

Mary soon joined you inside, and she didn’t look pleased. She stared down at you and crossed her arms.

“Are you kidding me with that shit?” you asked, gesturing at the scene you just saw.

“Could you be any more of a cockblock?” Mary shot back.

“Number one, that guy is a little too young for you, Cougar Town,” you reminded her. Luke had to be in his early 20s. It had been a hot minute since you and Mary were of college age. “Number two, he came here with his girlfriend, who he somehow lost in the woods.”

“She left him,” Mary said. “All alone in the middle of nowhere. Then she took off and went home so she didn’t have to deal with what she did. I feel bad for him.”

“No, you’re horny for him. There’s a difference,” you said flatly.

You loved Mary like a sister, but she had the tendency to let guys blind her to good sense. (Ha. Pot calling the kettle black, came your self-deprecation.)

Though you could’ve predicted the way she huffed and walked away, once again leaving you alone. You sighed.

Wasn’t this vacation for us? you wondered.

Mary continued to bait Luke with coy flirtation, while you tried and failed to ride a horse again. Cormack had been kind and encouraging in trying to help you onto the creature, but once you were on its back, you were too afraid to let the horse move.

You felt like you were going to topple off at any moment, even with Beau Arlen’s advice. (Which still made you blush whenever you thought about it.)

So Cormack helped you down, and you went back to the mess tent for a mid-afternoon snack to make you feel better: a giant jelly donut.

You were really getting frustrated with yourself now.

“It’s not so hard,” Emily had said. You could imagine that her dad, the cowboy sheriff, had put her on a horse from the time she was a little kid. You were a city girl, through and through. The closest you’d ever gotten to riding a horse was a plastic one—a carousel at a carnival when you were six.

While you finished off your donut, you realized that you’d spent the whole day alone. As frustrated as you were with Mary, she was your best friend. And after this week, you would be staying and she would be going back to Chicago. You didn’t know when you would get to see her again.

So with a sigh, you wiped your hands free of donut icing and went to try and find her.

You started with the tent you shared with her. “Hey, Mary? Look I—”

You gasped when, upon entering the tent, you got your eyes seared. Mary and Luke were tangled together under the sheets. He moved off of your friend and rolled onto his back next to her when you came in. Mary uttered your name in shock. Everyone was shocked, really.

You were that, and angry.

“Really?! In our goddamn bed?” you shouted. Your gaze focused on Luke, and you pointed at him. “Get the hell out of here.”

He hesitated slightly, glancing at Mary, but your furious look scared him more. He grabbed his boxers and got dressed under the sheets before he left the bed, and then fled the tent, giving you a wide berth on his way out.

You then focused on Mary, who somehow looked both contrite and irritated at being interrupted. She said your name in a placating way, but you shook your head.

“No. No. Don’t even try,” you said. “That guy’s girlfriend left him in the middle of a vacation! What does that tell you? Please, screw me?”

“You know what?” Mary snapped. She sat up in the bed, making sure to cover herself with the sheet. She leaned over to grab her clothes from the floor and started hastily getting dressed.

“Luke’s actually a nice guy," she said. "You used to know how to have fun. But now you’ve just become this bitter person who can’t relax or let yourself be happy, let alone anyone else.”

That actually struck you—like a physical blow to your chest. You tried to blink past the sting of tears in your eyes.

“You’re a damn child,” you said, steadier than you felt. “You’re not the one who had your whole world imploded.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She still looked angry, but also like she was hiding the sting of guilt. She gathered up some of her things and informed you that she’d be staying at Luke’s tent tonight.

Freakin’ fine by you.

You’d also have to request some new bed sheets from Sunny.

In the morning, you stumbled out of bed after a rough night’s sleep. It was hard for you to sleep in a new place by yourself, especially out here in the woods.

Especially after how you and Mary left things.

You were so tired, you counted it a small blessing that you were able to put on clothes and get your hair into some kind of normalcy before you trekked over to the mess tent.

There you accidentally overheard Avery and Emily arguing; she’d lost her knife in the woods when she’d happened upon Luke, but Avery was reluctant to let her go hiking by herself. Apparently, her mother was due to join them this morning as well.

It seemed like the day of late comers though. A new married couple, Tonya and Donno, had arrived late yesterday to join the trip. They’d requested a tent at the far end of the camp, closest to the woods. Apparently, they wanted to really experience nature.

All you knew was, they seemed a bit weird.

“That knife’s important. My father gave it to me,” Emily said, interrupting your thoughts.

It made Avery quiet, but they both greeted you more pleasantly when you had to walk by them to get to the coffee.

“Hey, sorry,” you gave a little wave in embarrassment. You hated interrupting moments that had nothing to do with you, but you supposed it was unavoidable in this camp.

Once you’d gotten your coffee and filled your plate with some eggs and bacon, you joined them at the table. You pretended not to notice the way they both glanced at you with measures of concern. Did you really look that bad?

Avery wisely didn’t comment. Emily wasn’t as good at curbing her inner filter.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked. You gave her a thin smile.

“Just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep so well,” you admitted.

Of course, that was when the reason for your bedraggled appearance strolled into the mess tent. Mary came in and noticed Avery and Emily first with a smile. It turned frosty when she glanced at you. You gave her a mocking “smile” right back.

She chose to ignore you and went for the buffet table instead.

Right, you thought. You supposed that was how it was going to be for the rest of this damn trip.

“All righty! Good mornin’, folks,” Sunny said, entering the mess tent. She surveyed all the faces gathered—some relaxed and jovial, and then your table, a bit awkward, a bit tense.

She moved on with a smile that matched her name and her shiny red hair.

“Just lettin’ you all know as a reminder, we’ve got a bunch of activities for you all if there are any takers. Archery, kayaking, it’s gonna be a great time,” she said. “But if you prefer, you’re welcome to keep to the camp have a more relaxed day. It’s your vacation, so it’s up to you how you wanna spend it.”

You all nodded in understanding.

It’s your vacation. You choose how you spend it.

That, you could get on board with.

You spent the rest of the morning alone, as usual. Either you were reading in the outdoor lounge area, taking in the sunshine and the fresh air, or you were painting, taking in the landscape of the tall trees and the great, big mountains peeking out from behind them.

You earned yourself some peace today, one that let you breathe and try to tune out your frustrations with Mary, and your worries about the future. You hummed along to a melody in your mind as you painted. Completely at peace…

Until a hand tapped on your shoulder, making you yelp and sending your paintbrush high in the air.

Cormack came into your line of vision with a barely stifled laugh and placating hands. While you took out your earbuds (and calmed your breathing), he grabbed your brush and handed it back to you.

“Sorry about that. Just wanted to let you know that lunch is served,” he said, though he took a glance at your painting. “Hey, lookin’ real good there. Nice landscape.”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Aw, you don’t have to be so nice. I’m still learning.”

He crossed his arms. “Well, if you’re interested in taking classes, I know someone who runs an art studio in town. Miss Peggy. Nice lady. Not too harsh.”

You laughed more genuinely.

“Good to know, thanks! Send me the address and I’ll check it out,” you said. Cormack agreed with a smile, and he helped you up from the long couch you were sitting on. The two of you walked back together to the central part of the camp, where the mess tent was.

There you met Emily’s mother, Carla, who’d just joined her family at the camp. She wasn’t exactly dressed for camping in her pressed blouse and pencil skirt; professional and smart, her long dark hair a perfect coil.

This woman was immaculate. As you soon learned, she was also a lawyer. You didn’t often feel intimidated by other women, but she could fit that bill, considering you were sweaty and dusty in your plain V-necked shirt and jeans.

And especially knowing that this was Sheriff Arlen’s ex-wife. Avery seemed like the “wealthy businessman” type—the kind of man you’d expect a high-powered lawyer to be with. You found yourself wondering how she’d met the sheriff.

That’s none of your busineeeess, you sing-songed in your mind, while you speared more salad on your plate. As if that could disguise the juicy brisket burger right beside it.

After lunch, you returned to your tent to finally find Mary. She was lying on the bed, looking a bit listless.

“I’m surprised you’re not attached to Luke’s hip,” you remarked, setting down your backpack and paint supplies on the floor. “Or his face.”

She shot you a peeved look. “He keeps ditching me for that weird new couple. Tonya and Donner or something.”

“Donno?” you supplied. “Yeah, he’s weird. He stole the ketchup bottle from the breakfast table this morning. He told me, ‘You shouldn’t ruin good eggs with sugary tomato paste.’”

Mary raised a brow, but she turned to you when you sat down beside her on the bed. There was a moment of tension between you, even though your gazes were softer to each other. The truth was, you missed your friend today. You guys didn’t fight often, and it had you hurting. Maybe she felt the same way.

“Listen,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not sorry for throwing Luke out of our tent. That was gross as hell, and I didn’t appreciate that. But I don’t want to fight with you. I want to enjoy our last few days together before you go back to Chicago.”

Mary’s lips pursed, but she seemed to relent.

“Yeah, that was a bitch move,” she admitted. She knew full well that her tryst with Luke could’ve happened in his tent, not the one she shared with you. She met your gaze with more resignation, as well as apology.

“You’re really staying here, aren’t you?” she asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m not saying there’s nothing for me back home. Of course I’m going to miss you, our friends, the rest of my family…but I need to do this. I need a fresh start.”

It took her a moment, but Mary nodded. She reached over and hugged you. You held her back tightly.

After a beat, she let you go and slid out of bed.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I need to do something. I’m going stir crazy in here.”

“Where’re you going?” you asked.

“Just for a run,” she replied. “I should be back by dinner.”

“A run?” you repeated, your brows furrowing. “In the woods by yourself? Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

“Well, you could come with me,” she offered. You grimaced. You and running didn’t mix. You were more of a yoga girl.

Mary laughed and finished changing into her activewear and sneakers.

“That’s what I thought,” she said. “No worries, I’ll have my phone if anything. I’ll be okay.”

“But your cell won’t have service out there!” you said.

Mary was already leaving. She blew you a kiss goodbye, though she did stop in the tent’s entryway. Her face sobered with a sincere apology.

“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back, clear my head.”

You were reluctant to see her go, but you nodded.

“Just be back in time for dinner!” you called after her.

Mary wasn’t back for dinner. Even after the sun set, she hadn’t come back from her run. You were really beginning to worry.

All the other campers were gathering up at the edge of camp for a Night Hike. It was an idea Buck and Sunny surprised you all with a few hours ago. You wondered if they were trying to make up for the strange way Paige left the camp.

“The moon’s full tonight,” as Sunny had said, with a slightly too bright smile. “Should be a beautiful time.”

You asked some of the others if they’d seen Mary, but they all replied negatively. Even Luke was nowhere to be found…but someone else was missing too.

“I still can’t believe you let her go into the woods alone,” Carla snapped at her husband.

Avery’s frown deepened. “I had no idea she went off by herself. You know your daughter. She’s headstrong—”

“Yeah, just like her father,” Carla muttered, turning away from him. Avery sighed.

You couldn’t help but approach them.

“Emily’s missing?" you said in concern. "Mary is too. I’ve been waiting for her to come back all afternoon.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carla said. She frowned as anxiety continued to well up in her eyes. “Maybe they found each other.”

You touched her arm in comfort. “Either way, we can all look for them now.”

Sunny came up to the group with a flashlight and a smile.

“Everyone ready?” she asked.

“Mary’s missing,” you told her, “And so is Emily. Mary went on a run this morning and hasn’t been back since.”

Sunny inclined her head. After she surveyed the rest of the crowd, she settled back on you.

“I see Luke’s not among us either. Maybe they’re together?” she suggested, in a leading tone. You frowned.

“No, she left alone,” you said firmly.

“Don’t mean she stayed alone, darlin’,” Sunny replied, with that Oklahoma twang that so often made her words more charming. “But we’ll be sure to look for her and Emily while we’re out there.”

Carla shook her head and said to her husband, “That’s it. I’m calling Beau.”

“Darling, you don’t need to,” Avery replied, shaking his head. “Emily’s a responsible girl. She knows what time we’re meant to leave—”

Carla shook her head and walked past him and Sunny—towards the hotspot for cell service. You agreed with her; calling the sheriff couldn’t hurt, especially if you all couldn’t find Mary or Emily on this hike.

You still went with the rest of them to start your own search. You tried to keep with the group, but after lingering in certain spots to call for Mary, you eventually realized that you’d lost the trail—and everyone else.

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

The panic was back now, full force, and you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. And when you turned another corner, you screamed when you bumped into someone.

A girl’s scream echoed just as loudly as yours in the big, empty wood, but you got ahold of yourself, literally with a hand over your wildly beating heart when you realized who you’d run into.

“Emily!” you uttered. The girl let out a breath of relief to see you too. You went to her and pulled her into a hug, and she hugged you back.

“Thank. God,” she said. Her voice sounded tight with emotion, and you held her a bit tighter.

“It’s okay,” you rubbed her back. “How long’ve you been out here?”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, pulling away from you. “Couple of hours? Maybe longer.”

You nodded and expelled a breath. Poor thing looked tired. She didn’t even have any supplies with her. You gave her a protein bar from your backpack before you two started walking.

“So the good news is, we found each other. The bad news is, we’re still lost,” you said, counting each item on your fingers. “But the good news also is, I’ve only been walking for about…half an hour or so. I’m thinking we can mark trees or other landmarks as we pass them, like checking them off, so we know where we’ve been.”

Emily glanced at you with a smile. “You’re a checklist person, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely!” you agreed. “Checking things off is satisfying. But it’s also good just to take an inventory of where we’re at.”

You two kept walking for a while. Emily explained that she’d been following Luke, who took off by himself after giving her an ominous warning.

“There are some bad people on this trip. Want my advice? Get the hell out of here,” he’d said.

You frowned in concern. You’d felt that there was something fishy about that guy, pretty much from the moment he and Paige disappeared on that hike. Those newcomers he’d been hanging out with ever since, Tonya and Donno…maybe they had something to do with it.

They’d left camp today to go into town, claiming to check on the restaurant they owned and ran. But with everything now starting to come into perspective, you couldn’t take any piece of information at face value around here.

Suddenly, Emily stopped short.

“What’s…” Your words trailed as you followed her line of vision. There was a frilly pair of underwear on the ground.

That led to a hoodie strewn in the dirt and dead leaves. You continued on, until you found Mary, lying on her back on the cold ground. You and Emily gasped her name, but you moved first, dropping to your knees at Mary’s side. You pressed a hand to her cheek and found it cold.

You moved two fingers to the pulse point at her neck, but there was nothing. No life in her. Your mouth fell open in a silent, shocked cry.

“Mary? Honey, can you hear me?” you tried, shaking her shoulders. When she remained unresponsive, tears burned in your eyes and blurred your vision. You finally saw a dark patch of wet pooled out from under her body.

“Oh my God,” Emily said, voicing your thoughts. She was panicked. “Oh God, she’s…she’s…”

You turned to her and wanted to say, Don’t look.

You had briefly taught highschoolers before you became a college professor. You were used to looking out for your students, and as the adult here, you wanted to shield the teen from the sight of this, no matter how much your mind was spinning.

Before you could say anything, Emily fled the clearing with a scream.

“Emily!” you shouted after her. You glanced back at Mary in desperation, but you forced yourself onto your feet and ran after the girl.

You had slightly longer legs, but she was fast. You only caught up to her because she screamed louder, after running into Buck leading a horse through the woods. She grabbed onto him while you caught your breath behind her.

“What? What happened?” Buck asked. You laid a supportive hand on Emily’s shoulder, and she turned back to you with tearful eyes.

“Mary,” you managed, despite the coarseness in your voice. “She’s…”

This isn’t real, you thought. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

“She’s dead,” Emily finished for you. “Someone killed her.”

Buck’s eyes widened in shock. All he could say was…

“Show me.”

Buck brought Mary’s body back to camp on the back of his horse. The three of you walked in silence all the way there. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her lifeless body. It was wrong. And if you did, you knew you’d collapse.

Emily was likely in shock as well. Her arm was looped through yours, though you weren’t sure who was steadying who.

Thanks to Carla, the police were already on the way to Sunny Day Excursions. When you reached the camp, Carla beelined for her daughter. Despite how happy she was to see her mom, Emily was a bit reluctant to let go of you, seeing how shaken you were, but you encouraged her wordless to go to her mother.

Carla pulled Emily into a tight hug, kissing the side of her head, and asked if she was all right. Emily just shook her head and pressed her face into her mom’s shoulder. Carla looked up at you with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you,” she said.

You gave her teary smile of your own. You couldn’t speak though, especially when Buck passed by with Mary still on the back of his horse. Sunny gasped and grabbed a blanket to cover the body with.

She then went to you, whispering, “You poor dear. Come ‘ere, sit by the fire.”

She covered your shoulders with another blanket and steered you to sit by the bonfire in the center of camp. You stayed there and stared at the flames. All the while, you didn’t feel the warmth. You didn’t feel the silent tears that slid down your face and dropped into your lap.

“Where’s Luke?” you heard Avery ask.

“That’s a good question,” said Sunny. She turned to her husband. “Buck?”

“I don’t know, but somebody better find him,” he replied grimly.

It was another hour before the police arrived.

You still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the bonfire on a hard bench, but it was Cormack who gently asked you if you wanted to go back to your tent to relax until the police got around to talking to you about what happened.

You’d agreed, silently, and he helped you up. But you found that you could go no further than the couple of steps that brought you onto the platform outside of your tent. The tent you’d shared with Mary.

You couldn’t go in, and Cormack seemed to realize that. He helped you lower down to sit on the platform, with your dirty sneakers planted on the step below. He gave you a cup of hot tea as well, which you held with both hands and sipped slowly.

You only raised your head when you heard Emily’s voice exclaim in happiness. You watched her run to her father, the Sheriff. He welcomed his daughter into his arms and held her tight. Relief was painted all over his face. You heard the rumble of his voice asking her if she was all right. She just burrowed closer in the safety of his arms.

A blonde policewoman had come with him, along with a whole unit of officers. She went to question Buck and Sunny first, while Beau handled Emily, then Avery and Carla. It didn’t seem like a pleasant conversation, between the two men especially.

Don’t stare, you reminded yourself. You lowered your gaze to the dusty bottom stair between your feet. Your vision started to glaze over the longer you focused on that spot. You weren’t lost in thought. You were just…blank. This entire night still didn’t feel real.

Mary’s last words kept ringing through your mind…

“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she’d said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back.”

You were interrupted from your reverie when two brown boots entered your line of vision. You looked up, and Beau Arlen was there to greet you with a look of sympathy. And yet, there was a professional set to his face that let you know you were about to be formally questioned about Mary’s death.

“Is that spot taken?” Beau asked, pointing to the space beside you on the platform. You shook your head and scooched over, so he could sit down. He sighed on his way there, greeting you with polite familiarity.

“Sheriff,” you nodded back. You set aside your mug of tea and crossed your arms, holding yourself against the chill.

You’d left the blanket by the bonfire, and your sweater had been stained with blood, after helping Buck set Mary’s body on the horse. You’d ripped the sweater off as soon as you got to camp, leaving you in just your undershirt.

“You need a jacket,” Beau remarked. He glanced back at your tent, as if he was wondering why you hadn’t gone inside to grab one. But his gaze was perceptive. Instead of asking, he shrugged out of his faux fur-lined leather jacket and draped it around your shoulders.

“Here, you can borrow this for now,” he said.

“Thank you,” you spoke in a small voice. You grasped one edge of the jacket and pulled it closer around you. It smelled like musky cologne and old leather.

Beau waved off his gesture of kindness.

“I hear you found my daughter in the woods and tried to get her back to camp,” he said. “Thank you for that.”

You glanced over at him, and tears once again shone in your eyes.

“I’m sorry she had to see…”

Beau’s gaze was heavy as he sighed and nodded again in agreement.

“I’m sorry you had to see it too,” he said. “And I’m sorry for your loss. For your friend.”

You took in a shuddering breath. New tears found familiar paths down your cheeks.

“Best friend, since college,” you said.

Beau took that in, before he asked you about the day’s events. You had to explain about Mary going missing first, then Emily, and finally Luke, who still hadn’t been found. You told everything you knew from your perspective.

When you were done, Beau reluctantly asked about the Mary and Luke situation. Your lips pursed, but your upset wasn’t at the sheriff. You knew he had to ask these questions.

“We argued about it,” you admitted. “Me and Mary. I warned her not to get involved with him, and the way Paige left camp was just one of many…but still, I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have let her go into the woods alone! I should’ve gone with her!”

By the end, your whole body wracked with sobs. You covered your face with your hands to try and get some semblance of composure, but you just couldn’t keep it together.

“Okay, okay,” Beau said gently. He laid a hand on your back and rubbed back and forth. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I am.”

You sucked in a few tremulous breaths, sniffling. You looked up at him with red, watery eyes. He gave you a half smile.

“Sorry,” he repeated, this time for the endearment. “Like I said, got a bad habit of doin’ that.”

You shook your head with a weak curve of your lips, despite how your lower lip wobbled.

“It’s okay,” you said.

But it wasn’t. Nothing was.

You didn’t think you’d ever be okay again.

AN: 😥 I'm sorry about Mary, but I promise, it's all for a purpose, besides following canon. But let me know what you think! There will be much more of the reader and Beau in the next chapter, though you may not expect how their next meeting comes about...

Next Time:

“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”

Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice.

You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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#It's Not Right But It's Okay #Take Me Home #Part 2 #Beau Arlen series #big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #Emily Arlen #beau arlen x you #Jensen Ackles characters #big sky season 3 #zepskies writes

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newtsoda · 1 year

Photo

When school is torture...

A comic about autism and “school avoidance”.

------------------

Commence Alt Text:

[PAGE 1]

Title: 'It's Not School Avoidance – Trauma, Burnout and PTSD in the Education System'. The first panel shows a woman, her face veiled in shadow and surrounded by a thicket of thorns. She looks alien, with pointed ears and cat-like eyes. The second panel shows her drowning, her hand grasping at the air. The next panel shows ghost-like arms twisting around her. The speech bubbles read: When I was a kid, school was the stuff of nightmares. An intense and overwhelming environment, overstimulating and demanding, and entirely unforgiving. It's where I learned to mask and how to lie about all manner of things. I faked so many illnesses just so I could have the break I couldn't ask for. All so that I could somehow stay afloat in a system that did not recognise my needs. Neurotypicals don't understand just how much school is not designed for people who are not like them. Nor do they understand what it's like when you have to return to the place that is hurting you, day after day after day.

[Page 2]

The woman lies with her head on a pillow, staring wide-eyed at the reader. Thorns creep around the edges of the frame. The text reads: It's nearly twenty years later, and I still have the nightmares. Not the same vague dreams about not doing my homework everyone gets, but vivid night terrors that revolve around school and the things it made me feel. I've been told it's a symptom of CPTSD. The second panel shows a dagger with thorns wrapped around it as it is slowly dragged into their midst. The text reads: Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder develops over a series of prolonged traumatic events. A disturbingly high number of autistic adults go on to develop it and can trace the root of their trauma back to the torturous experiences of their school years. So, I guess it's safe to say I'm not alone. But what's worse: It's still happening today.

[Page 3]

A girl is at the centre of the page, tears streaming down her face as scissors cut through her wings. Blood drips down the page. Thorns creep towards her. Another panel shows the woman's back with the shredded remnants of her own cut wings. The text reads: Autistic children are being dragged through a grim education system that does not get their needs, quietly suffering. Parents are denied support if their child makes good grades or is quiet in class, because all is well. But the school doesn't see the tears and fights getting to the gates in the morning. Or the meltdowns/shutdowns as soon as the child gets home. It doesn't matter what's happening to their mental health. That a bubbly, happy child who loved to learn has turned into a despondent, empty shell of their former self. Above all else, school emphasises attendance rates. As long as that child is still showing up every day, it's seen as a success, no matter the cost—and the cost, sadly, is often steep for people like us.

[Page 4]

The girl and the woman are wrapped in a towering mass of thorns. Swords jut from the wounded woman's chest while she looks down at the girl who reaches for a hand trying to rescue her from her plight. The text reads: “Your child just needs to develop more resilience.” An infamous line that keeps rearing its ugly head. It comes from a place of ignorance, from people who have no idea how resilient these young people already are from living in a world not designed for their neurotype. But what can parents do? They're witnessing the damage forced classroom time is doing to their children, seeing it destroy them, but feel powerless to help. Keeping them home for recovery results in fines, warnings, and intimidation tactics. Seeing no other way out, some parents are forced to take their child out of school for good, opting for home schooling instead. They report needing years to repair the damage done to their child's mental health.

[Page 5]

The woman is seen healing the girl's back. Tiny wings sprout where hers were cut. The text reads: Homeschooling can allow parents to slowly build their children back up, coaxing them back to their former selves. But not everybody has the means to homeschool, and while it should always be a choice, it should never be one forced by desperation. The next panel shows the woman's own shredded wings. The final one shows her defending her child. Text: This whole thing is excruciating for autistic parents who experienced it all themselves while growing up and know exactly the damage that is being done, yet find themselves unable to protect their child from suffering the same fate. I want to be a parent one day, but the thought of school already fills me with dread. I want my child to benefit from a well-rounded education without paying the steep mental health price I had to pay. It shouldn't be too much to ask! And yet, I've fully prepared myself for the battles I'll have to fight.

[Page 6]

The page shows the woman twirling the girl around while she holds her hands and the girl flies with her new, full-grown wings. The woman's wings are still shredded, but she smiles knowing that she was able to help her daughter. The text reads: I want to raise the next generation of autistic people unburdened by school trauma or CPTSD. We need more autistic-friendly options, and lockdown and the pandemic showed that it's possible! We need flexible schooling, less classroom time, more opportunities to do schoolwork from home, and low intensity classrooms for children who don't have parents who can support learning from home. Allow for recovery time and stop penalising low attendance rates! We want the education system to recognise the damage it's doing to young people and believe parents when they plead for support. There is more than one way to achieve learning outcomes, and we deserve a system that works for us.

#autism #actually autistic #autism acceptance month #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #school #education #newtsoda #comic #autistic comic takeover

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breeofbree · 11 months

Text

Bed Rest

Shikamaru x f!reader

🔞MINORS DNI 🔞

Warnings: soft core SMUT, swearing, injuries

Summary: a lazy hang out turns to lazy sex (just a quick smut read for on the go. Simple, goofy, with a bit of filler episode humor)

To say I was beat from the mission was an understatement. Turns out, getting slammed in to the ground by your neck really does a lot of damage. My bed at home beckoned to me, plush, soft comforter and lots of space to stretch compared to the bedroll on my back that’s been used for two weeks. It was a dream to be prescribed three days of bed rest by the doctor. But upon opening the bedroom door, I notice a lazy soul already occupying my sweet bed.

“Move over, I’m tired.” I grunt out, slamming face first in to the long forgotten pillow that rest besides Shikamaru’s head. It was common to find him napping in a random spot when I’d come back from missions, sometimes the floor, or the front porch of my house. But my bed was a new one.

“Great to see you and your smart comments are still alive.” He sighs as I can feel his weight shift closer to me, grunting in pain.

I wince as I turn my neck to focus on his bruised face, “I hear you got a nice beat down yourself, champ.”

“Doctors orders for strict bed rest, a drag I can’t go outside and watch the clouds.” He mumbles out, his eyes fluttering slowly shut. I huff a small laugh out as a pinch of pain runs through my neck,” bed rest doesn’t mean an actual bed. It just means get sleep and not get in any fights, Shikamaru. Now get out of my bed so I can get my ordered bed rest.”

I’m only answered by slow and steady breathing, signaling he was already practically asleep. Leave it to Shikamaru to put his best effort in falling asleep. I can only sigh, gathering a pillow to go crash on my own couch in defeat. A slow hand stops me from brokenly standing up,” bed rest, not couch rest. Just lay down and don’t be awkward, damnit.”

“Awkward? You’re in my bed. You’re the only one making this awkward.” I huff out, slamming the pillow against his head and falling back down beside him. He drapes an arm over my side and grumbles,” stop complaining already, if you didn’t like it you would’ve forced me out the door by now, Y/N.”

His delicately placed hand sends electric pulses through my entire body, a sensation that was almost taboo to feel about a close friend. And the anger of him being right sets in.

“Shut up and put your hand somewhere else then, you’re distracting me.” I try to chastise him, resulting in it moving upwards and cupping my breast,” not what I meant.”

He chuckles slightly, close enough to my ear that it sends a shiver against my spine,” if I really wanted to distract you I would.”

His hand kneads slightly, oddly relieving other pains as the ecstasy of the intimate touch invades my senses.

“S-Shikamaru, what are you doing?” I yelp out as his other hand snakes its way under my body and to my other breast.

“I’m showing you what distracting really is.” He clips out, resting his heated face against my neck and nipping softly at it. My body acts on its own free will, arching my back into his body, and grinding my ass against his pelvis deeply.

“But we’re supposed to-“ I begin, being quickly cut off as his breath ghosts over the spot he just bit,” resting… I know.”

He pulls away, minding the sore spots as I moan in frustration,” and I can’t do that now that you’ve made a move on me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve crossed a line. I’m too tired to think clearly.” He apologizes, quickly suggesting he went home.

“No! I mean, you just caught me off guard. I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” I admit sheepishly, guiding his hands back to position. It was his turn to sigh, only this time it was relief… maybe even pleasure. His lower body rhythmically rolls into mine, boasting a defined bulge against me that grows harder with every touch. I can hear the soft moan in my ear and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from following suit.

“I’m pretty lame at the moment… I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” I breathe out, heart quickening with every motion. I suddenly realize it might be beneficial for the both of us as a moan finally escapes my own mouth,“But then again, I wouldn’t mind going slow and enjoying it. I find going slow is quite relaxing and a great way to promote rest.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself, or me, Y/N?” Shikamaru breathes out tiredly as my mind races. I whip around quickly, disregarding any aching pain and settle on top of him with a huff,” fuck it.”

My hands wander across his body, plucking and pulling at the fabric that’s separates us. It felt so wrong, yet so right to know first hand that the man who always complained about women could feel emotions such as intimacy. The friend I always slept or napped with, but never in an intimate way. The static charge of rubbing clothes courses through my finger tips, jolting through my body and down to my core. If I didn’t like him so much… if I didn’t crave or even need him so much, I might just feel guilty. But the feeling of his lips clumsily finding mine between closed eyes and rambunctious limbs fumbling around, felt a little too satisfying. We were both lazy at heart, never in a rush. And it showed as his lips took time against mine. Slowly pulling in my lower lip as his hand finds its way to squeeze against my ass, followed by a light smack. I use his slight distraction to nip at his lip, taking in the faint taste of an after mission cigarette drag. He sharply inhales, finding his bearings in gripping tightly at my hips. Shikamaru’s eyes flutter halfway open, hungrily staring me down as all thoughts escape my head in nervousness,” Y/N, are you okay?”

I shake my head back to reality, looking down at his pants line and back to him,” Y-yeah. Are you… are you okay with this?”

“Yeah.” He huffs a silent laugh as I work at his pants, finally receiving a helping hand as he pulls them below his knees. Shikamaru’s hips jerk as my hand delicately wraps around him, pumping softly and slowly, falling in to a rhythm with his breathing. Shikamaru tilts his head back, moaning slightly with a half cocked smile of bliss, jutting his hips in to each stroke as his face quickly flushes,” just don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, it’s my neck that bothers me. Not my hand.” I exhale, watching his eyes roll before they meet mine,” if it gets to be too much. Tell me to stop.”

I nod, taking a brief moment to slip off my pants that desperately need a wash after the mission and crawl back on top of him. I find the courage to sink down, the ache between my hips enhancing with each second I take to slide fully on to him. By the time I’m fully settled, it feels like my core is about to burst with ecstasy, until he lifts me slightly by my hips and slams me back down gently. A soft yelp escapes my throat from surprise, quickly hushed by his voice,” does that hurt?”

“No, it- it feels good.” I moan between thrusts, watching as his face contorts from pain to fits of pleasure and ecstasy. My head instinctively moves to fall back, quickly answered with a jolt of pain before Shikamaru goes taut and stops all movement,” Shikamaru, I said I was okay. Keep going… please.”

He nods, resuming his motion as I feel the familiar knot in my stomach, unfortunately dulled by the ebbing pain that seemed to rush back in uninvited. My eyes shut tight, spots flickering as my neck hurts and lower body goes numb in pleasure. My moan is choked out by Shikamaru’s own, followed quickly as his pace picks up, using the last of his energy to finish strong and rough.

“Look at me, Y/N.” He hisses out between his clenched jaw, forcing my eyes to obey and lock on to his before they wander once again with the sensation of pure ecstasy. With a guttural moan from Shikamaru, I can feel the hot ropes pulse in to me and his body becomes rigid once again. His head arches back in to the pillow behind him, his moan quickly becoming a whimper, and guilt makes me hope it’s from pleasure and not pain. I can barely manage to flop over beside him and try my best to hide the winces, but fail miserably.

“It was too much for the both of us, wasn’t it?” He sighs, eyes fixated on the ceiling as his hand rubs against his torso. I reach my hand to move his, taking his place to rub at the bruising area softly,” probably. But you always sucked at timing.”

His hand snakes upwards to cup the back of my neck and rub soft circles where it hurt the most, and his eyes slowly meet mine,” such a drag I didn’t do it sooner.”

I find my eyes fluttering closed at the lulling touch against my neck, being pulled slowly to rest my head against his chest and match his steady breathing,” I only let you because it was a pity to see you being the one in pain for once.”

“That’s a lie.” Shikamaru snickers, pinching my ear slightly with his free hand. I giggle back, tilting my head up to sleepily look to him,” and how would you know?”

“Never tell Choji secrets. Especially when you’re both drunk.” He answers, pulling me fully on to him with a grunt. My mind tries to gather any time Choji and I were drunk together, but falls short,” that’s a bluff. I haven’t been drunk with Choji for a long time.”

“Barbecue, sake, and wedding gift planning.” Shikamaru hints.

I then remember the night, sitting down with Choji and venting about not being able to find Hinata and Naruto a gift when my own love life was on the rocks. Sake goes down too sweetly after going through a break up just before a friend gets married. It was several weeks ago now, turning to Choji after Ino and even TenTen had come up short with ideas.

“Why don’t you ask Shikamaru? You two seem to think pretty similarly.” Choji huffs out, ordering the bottle of sake.

“The last thing we need is the two of us working together. It always ends horribly and you know that, Choji.” I cough out after knocking back several cups of the bitter and satisfying beverage.

“It’s because you like him.” Choji smirks, wiggling his eyebrows before ordering another bottle. Two bottles empty and halfway through the third one, I groan as my head slams against the table,” Choji, if I had the capability of liking anyone, why would you assume out of everyone in the leaf, it would be Shikamaru?”

“Because, Shikamaru is the only thing you talk or complain about when you’re drunk, even sober for that matter.” Choji points out, laying down more strips of beef against the barbecue. I bang my head against the table a few more time in frustration,” because that idiot doesn’t leave my head. It’s wrong to think of a friend that way damnit. Especially him.”

The next sentence is the one part I knew Choji took to Shikamaru in confidence,” we’re both too dense to just fuck and get it over with. Besides, sex takes effort and I use enough of that during missions.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before…” Choji laughs, pulling a strip off the grill and finishing off the plate of beef. Everything afterwards is black as my hand reaches to finish the sake straight from the bottle.

“Oh no, he told you.” I groan, burying my head in guilt and embarrassment. Shikamaru only hugs me with a reassuring laugh,” everything.”

“Just wait until you hear what he told me what you said.” I lie, feeling as his breathing stops,” L-listen, when I told him about that little dream, I figured he wouldn’t say anything!”

“Choji didn’t really tell me anything, but now I’m curious about this dream…” I trail off, eyes becoming heavy as a yawn wracks my body.

“That’s a story for another time, we should get some actual bed rest.” He yawns back.

“If I wasn’t so tired, I’d try to argue with you. You win for now.” I mumble out, quickly letting the claws of sleep sink in to me. Before drifting off, I could feel his lips lazily drift across my forehead. I knew in that moment, I was too comfortable to complain or prod even further. I was content with being finally in his arms and getting some well deserved bed rest.

#shikamaru smut #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru imagine #nara shikamaru #naruto fanfiction #naruto imagines #naruto smut #shikamaru imagines #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara #shikamaru fanfiction #shikamaru x you #shikamaru is a lazy king #Shikamaru

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gotham-daydreams · 7 months

Note

HIIIII!!!!! I LOVEEEEEEEE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH IT ALWAYS BRING A SMILE TO MY FACE 😫

Anyway~ I’ve been wondering! What do ya think Batfam reaction will be if the reader starts going insane? I mean reader doesn’t even have any freedom at this point 😭 would be unbelievable if reader still has a bit of sanity left 🤯

I'm glad!!!

As for your question, I'm assuming this is sort of talking about what I wrote in this post. Though regardless, the result is relatively the same!

The Batfam would just start the 'reconstruction' process, and begin building the reader's broken mind to their liking. They'll definitely take advantage of this opportunity to make the reader love them, and want to be a part of the family again, among a few other things.

Sure, some of them may have been against it, but at this point, what choice do they have? The reader has lost their mind, and despite being clearly unstable- is still trying to fight back (at least in the post I mentioned), so they all collectively decide that it's for the best. The reader is suffering as they are, they need the Batfam to help them- and so the family is set on doing just that.

Again, they'll rebuild the reader's mind and implement all the little things they want the reader to have. Every trait they think the reader had before they started to 'hate' the Batfam, every interest, every talent, everything.

The Batfam will literally go out of their way to shatter the reader's mind to its smallest parts, just to pick up every part, and make what they want out of it.

It's goes as well as you can imagine for the reader, who's a shell of themself within their own body, and the Batfam gets what they've been wanting ever since they acknowledged the reader. What they've been craving, needing.

As much as they hate seeing the reader lose their mind, and seeing the pain its causing them. The reward for their efforts if greater than any guilt they'd feel.

The ends justify the means, no?

Anyways! I hooe this answered your question :]

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #gn reader #yandere dc

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somber-sapphic · 1 year

Text

Safe In Their Arms

I apologize for my inconsistency in these descriptions, I'm just trying to get everything reposted as quickly as I can- (wandanat x reader)

You've been working hard and naturally, let go of your health. When your girlfriends try to help you push them away, resulting in a minor fight between you and Natasha.

Word Count: 2004

-----

You swiped a clammy hand over your eyes, struggling to keep yourself focused on the words written on the page in front of you. You’d always joked that paperwork would be the death of you, but this seemed worse than your typical nightmare related exhaustion. Your body felt unnaturally heavy and the pressure in your head had intensified tenfold.

You sniffled quietly and ran a fist under your runny nose, trying to keep all of the gunk inside your head. You’d finish soon, then you’d sleep for three days. Or a month, whatever it took to get the damn pain to go away. You scrunched up your nose and ducked forward, stifling a sneeze into your elbow

“Y/n for the love of god, either blow your nose or leave. I can’t think with all of your sniffling.” The redhead beside you spat out, turning to give you an ugly glare. Her green eyes bore into yours and you felt shame welling up inside of you.

“Natasha, quit. Y/n, are you feeling alright?” Wanda asked softly, walking over to put a hand on your shoulder. You huffed and pulled away from her, hunching back over the work in front of you.

A part of you felt awful for how you were acting. Wanda had been nothing but kind to you since it happened and you’d been hostile. Natasha had given it a week before she was done with your attitude and began returning the aggression you sent her way.

“Sweetheart, I know you don’t want to talk to me, I know you’re still upset but you’re trembling. You’re wearing a sweatshirt and I can see the three pairs of socks. What’s wrong?” The auburn haired woman moved and wrapped her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder. You tried to keep yourself steady, you tried to hold back the emotions, but it was too much.

You squished your cheek against hers as tears began to slip from your eyes. Being the wonderful girlfriend that she was, Wanda stayed where she was, but slipped her hand onto your forehead, rocking you slightly as the tears came faster.

“It’s okay Y/n/n, I’m right here.” She soothed, her mother-hen instincts kicking in. You reached up and grabbed the arm hooked around your shoulders and clung to her, the physical contact tearing down the walls you’d built up since the explosion. A heaving sob wracked your body, quickly turning into a coughing fit that made your lungs rattle in your chest.

“Shh, shh I’ve got you. I’ve got you little dove. Just breathe for me.” You broke completely when she started to comb her fingers through your hair, a gesture that never failed to make you talk to her. She continued her mantra as your sobs got heavier and didn’t break contact even as you started to rock back and forth in your overwhelming sadness.

“I-I'm s-sorry!” You choked out, squeezing your eyes closed against what you were sure would be yelling from Natasha. She was mad at you and she had every right to be. That didn’t change how afraid you were of her leaving you. You couldn’t live without these women.

“Y-you tried to help and, and I just got m-mad, I-I’m so stupid.” Your chest was heaving with emotion, terrified that they’d just leave you alone. Wanda’s hold tightened on you, and you could feel her using some of her magic to keep you from spiraling completely. She had a very tentative hold on your grief, knowing that you needed to feel it but unwilling to let it send you into a panic attack.

You felt yourself being moved, but you didn’t fight. You didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. You were lowered into the ground and found yourself curled up in the arms of someone new. If you weren’t so congested you’d smell her light sandalwood soap and a hint of sweat from her earlier training. If you opened your eyes you’d see a cascade of long red hair half covering her face as she pulled you against her chest, a sudden protectiveness flaring in her chest.

You didn’t need to though. You knew the touch of this woman without having to look up. It was a touch that you had craved for a long time. Since the incident your general aggressive attitude had kept her from providing the gestures of comfort that Wanda refused to withhold. The brushes of her fingers across your back when she walked past you. The hand on your knee to keep it from bouncing when you were sitting down. The little nudges of her elbow into your ribs in a joking way to show affection.

You grabbed onto the front of Natasha’s shirt, afraid that she’d change her mind and let you go. Wanda started to pull away but you shook your head, hoping that she’d stay. You didn’t trust your voice, or really think that you’d be able to talk through your tears.

“You’re sick baby.” She murmured into your hair, showing you love that you thought she’d lost for you. You shook your head against her shirt and sniffled miserably, holding back a fit of what you were sure would be hacking, wet coughs.

“I haven’t been sick in ages, it must be something else…” You whimpered, refusing to admit it. If you admitted it, you were weak and you couldn’t keep being weak in front of them. You’d already shown too much emotion.

“Your denial is adorable bug, but you’re definitely sick. You’re burning up.” Wanda chuckled, pulling your sweaty hair back into a loose ponytail with one of her spare hair ties. Her nails grazed your scalp and you moaned in pleasure, the pain fading with her gentle touch. Embarrassment flooded over you, and you turned to look at her an apology on your lips.

She smiled and cupped your hot cheek in a soft hand, sympathy and kindness glimmering in her beautiful hazel eyes.

“...love you…” You turned away and hid your head back in Natasha’s chest, the same way that a toddler might. Both women laughed and one of them kissed the top of your head. You melted into the affection, knowing that though you’d have the discussion about your bad attitude later they would let you bask in their attention for a while. They wouldn’t make you talk about it just yet.

“We love you too printsessa, but it’s time for bed. Do you think you can walk?” Your body felt like jello what with all of the not eating enough and complete lack of sleep but you had to try. You nodded weakly and allowed them to help you stand, Natasha’s arm slipping around your waist as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet.

“Are you sure? I can carry you.” The redhead offered, looking up at you. For all of her high heeled boots and badassery, the woman was tiny. Standing at a mere 5’3” anyone who didn’t know her strength would think her offer ridiculous. You knew that she could literally throw you across the room without a second thought. She was fantastic.

“I’m okay.” You stumbled forward and Wanda grabbed your shoulders, shaking her head slightly.

“Quit it. I will knock you out and carry you myself if I have to.” The other woman snapped, kissing the back of your head lightly. You shut up and allowed Natasha to lift you into a bridal carry. You cast a weak glare at Wanda, but stopped when you saw what looked like terror in her eyes.

“...’m’okay baby. Tired.” You reached for her hand, and ran a thumb across her knuckles as Natasha carried you to your room. She deposited you on the bed with a gentle kiss on your forehead and you frowned, making stupid little grabby hands at her. Your throat hurt and you didn’t want to talk anymore. You just wanted to be held.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” She laughed, bending over so that she could give you a real kiss. You tried to push away, not wanting her to get sick, but she kissed you anyway. Her soft lips pressed against yours and you relaxed, letting all of the anxiety and sadness of the past few weeks leave you. This was your chance to not be okay, even if it was only until your fever broke.

“Don’t go?” You whispered, sleep already pulling at your exhausted mind. You glanced over at Wanda, who still looked nervous. She was picking at her nails as if trying to decide if she should sit. You wanted her to sit, what did you do wrong?

Tears filled your eyes and you pulled your knees to your chest, self hate washing over you.

“No, no you don’t get to do that again. I just got you back.” Wanda snapped out of her anxious daze and sat beside you. Without another moment of hesitation she pulled you against her chest, her hand cradling the back of her head.

“Can we go to bed?” You mumbled into her neck, still fighting to stay awake. You knew that they wanted you up by the way she nudged you every time she felt you sink deeper against her.

“Just a second, sleepy girl. We’ve gotta get you changed, remember?” She ran her fingernails across your scalp and you heard the little buzz sound that Natahsa’s phone made when it took a picture. You whined loudly and tried to grab the blanket, but it was snatched out of your reach.

A new set of more frustrated tears filled your eyes and you whimpered into Wanda’s shirt, your tears wetting the fabric.

“What’s wrong?” She cooed, glancing up at Natasha who was rifling around the drawers for a set of suitable pajamas. Something light, like cotton.

“I don't feel good.” You rubbed your nose against your wrist and looked up at her with big wet eyes, lower lip trembling. If you had any memory of this, you would be completely humiliated. For now, you were tired and sick and finally felt safe enough to be vulnerable.

“We know bug, let’s just get you changed into these,” Natasha held up a loose shirt that belonged to Wanda and a pair of her old, ratty sweatpants, “and then you can sleep until everything feels better.” She soothed, helping Wanda sit you up.

You protested your clothes being removed by going limp, a pout set firmly on your lips. There was much grumbling from the women trying to get you changed and a few Russian curses. By the time they’d wrestled the shirt over your head, you were half asleep against Wanda’s shoulder, finally willing to help them out.

“Wanna pull your legs up for me sweetheart?” Natasha pulled your pants off and you winced at the sudden cold, obeying as she went to put the new ones on. “Thank you Y/n, you can lay down now. We’re going to let you get off the hook without medicine for now, but when you wake up you’ve gotta take it, okay?”

Her words were fuzzy but you understood the implications. Mostly you understood that now you could sleep. You let them rearrange the pillows and tuck the blanket up around your chin, refusing to move your head from Wanda’s stomach. She was comfy and felt good.

“Do you need more blankets, my princess?” Natasha murmured, threading her fingers through your hair.

“You be my blanket?” You asked, not moving from your position. There was plenty of room for her to lay down if she wanted to be your blanket, which you really hoped that she did. The women beneath you laughed silently and kissed your hairline.

“Of course. Goodnight Y/n.” You tried to say goodnight, but your body was too heavy. Finally, after weeks of exhaustion, your mind drifted away in the safety of your girlfriend's arms. They’d protect you. They wouldn’t leave you. They’d make sure you were never alone.

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Text

Old Dog, New Tricks

Masc!Reader x BG3 Women (Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart)

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - My submission inbox shorted out, so I lost the prompt post! Basically, it was someone anonymous requesting a situation where an older tav didn’t know how to handle the Baldur’s Gate women flirting with him. If you were the one who sent in the post I’m sorry for losing the submission, but I hope you like the end result! <3

Warnings - Fluff

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~ Karlach ~

“I can’t believe you’ve stayed alive this long, soldier.” Karlach explained, letting out a hearty laugh.

You chuckled alongside her, taking a swig of your canteen.”You and me both.”

The two of you had spent most of the evening up to this point talking and laughing just like this. Comparing battle stories, complaining about old aches and pains from injuries, just generally bonding over spending both of your lives wrapped up in various wars.

It was nice to have someone to relate to like this, even if you were decades more grey than the woman before you. What Karlach lacked in experience, she more than made up for in story-telling. You sat around a campfire with comrades just like this many times before, but no one ever held your attention quite as well as Karlach.

She was vivacious and loud, her tales winding and swelling with intense voices. She made you feel younger again, reminding you of the times when you were that 16 year old young man who slept under the stars and fought his way through the realm.

You two could bond over that, being brought into an adult’s battle and giving up your childhood because of it. Your heart ached a little when you thought how much she had probably missed in the way of being a normal kid. You knew how it had affected you.

Karlach’s voice ripped you from your thoughts and you glanced back at her. Her eyes were alight with excitement and she was holding her arm out, pointing to a jagged scar.

“I got this one doing something similar. Thought the little devil would rip my arm clean off, but they weren’t quite fast enough.” She gave you a wide smile, obviously proud of the mark.

You cleared your throat gruffly, making a show of pulling your sleeve up and over your weathered skin. Just above your elbow sat an angry smattering of scarring, the result of an unfortunate misstep from your encounter with a dragon.

“Oh, love,” You whispered lowly, putting on your own version of a story-teller’s voice. “I’ve looked the devil in the eye. It wasn’t fond enough of me to look back, but it did give me this pretty mark.”

Karlach reached out, gently running her fingers over the textured skin, her eyes wide with an odd sense of awe. You felt your cheeks heat and breath get caught in your throat from the contact. You tried to distract from the feeling with a cough, slightly embarrassed that something so small could have your heart fluttering so rapidly.

“Must have hurt” Karlach murmured.

You shrugged, afraid of opening your mouth and having clumsy attempts at flirty banter spill out. That didn’t stop your jaw from dropping at what she said next.

“I can kiss it better if you’d like.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~ Lae’zel ~

It had been quite a long day. Long enough where you wanted to sit against this giant oak tree for months just to recover. You ran a hand through your salt and pepper hair, trying to ignore the way dull pain wound its way through your muscles.

You were getting too old for this. Perhaps twenty years earlier, you could have done a journey like this with no issue, but now, you creaked like a door hinge that had never met oil in its life.

You hoped your companions hadn’t caught on to how the constant fighting affected you so.

Just as the thought crossed your mind, Lae’zel looked at you from across the camp. She narrowed her eyes, as if she was sizing up how exhausted you looked. Leave it to her to have the uncanny ability to read your mind without trying.

As she made her way over, she crossed her arms disapprovingly. “Don’t tell me the parasite is starting to dig its claws in you.” She hissed.

“Do mind layer worms even have claws?” You chucked and gave her a charming smile, hoping the joke would get her off your case. Lae’zel meant well, but you were absolutely certain that if you showed any weakness to her questioning, she’d gut you then and there.

Lae’zel’s eyes narrowed further, her lips drawn in a tight line. “Chk, answer the question before I rid you of the parasite with more permanent means.”

You sighed, stretching your shoulders. “No, it’s not the parasite, Lae’zel. Just an old goat far too past his prime to be saving the world.”

Lae’zel seemed to ponder your words before letting out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing. “Being old is a great feat. “If you were a Githyanki and lived as incredibly long as you have,it would simply mean you’re skilled enough in battle to not be defeated.”

“What do you mean ‘incredibly long’, Lae’zel?” You scoffed, “How old do you think I look?”

You secretly hoped she wouldn’t answer. You knew how your looks had fared over the years, your laugh lines deepening, well earned nicks and scars peppering your skin. You were proud of your age, proud of the way the years hadn’t affected you the way they affected most. But ‘incredibly’ long? Really?

Lae’zel took a moment to look you over once more. You felt heat crawl its way to your chest, feeling exposed under her careful gaze. It’s as if she was taking every single part of you into inventory to come to a decision.

“You do not look old to me.” Lae’zel answered, finally. “In fact, I might even call you dashing.”

You sputtered in surprise, not quite sure how to take the compliment. “You would?”

Lae’zel offered you a rare smile before turning on her heels, calling out over her shoulder as she left, “I said ‘might’ Istik. Do not let my words go to your head.”

You stared blankly in her direction, trying to work out what had just happened in the conversation.

’You know what?’, you thought, standing up and brushing yourself off.

‘Fighting monsters is so much less complicated than that woman.’

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~ Shadowheart ~

It was a quiet evening when Shadowheart sat next to you, bottle of wine and two glasses in her hand. She sought out your company often, probably because you weren’t the most talkative person among your companions.

No, most of your ‘bonding’ time with Shadowheart was just sitting under the moonlight and sipping wine, only occasionally having comfortably short conversations.

It was the perfect way to unwind after a stressful day of fighting. Even still, you couldn’t help but notice how the talks had been growing longer as of late, not that you minded. Dusk was filled with hushed tones exchanged back and forth about likes and dislikes, little stories, questions about far away lands you had traveled to.

With Shadowheart’s memories gone, it was almost as if she wanted to explore all of yours instead. She knew so little about herself and was still fascinated to hear about you. It felt a bit alien at first, talking about yourself. But her curios gaze and pleading smile always won out in the end.

“So how old are you really?” Shadowheart asked plainly, still looking up into the night sky.

“Don’t you know it’s impolite to ask such a thing?” You scoffed, looking towards her.

Shadowheart shrugged as if the etiquette of the such a question meant absolutely nothing to her. “Quite old, then. For a human, I suppose.”

That quip earned a chuckle from you, the sound rumbling through your chest, “Old enough. I’ll be 48 or 49 summers this year. Can’t quite remember which.”

Shadowheart smiled gently, her eyes flitting to you. “As am I. Around there, anyways.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, your words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, “You’re much too beautiful to be as old as I am.”

You hadn’t meant the words flirtatiously. At least you thought you didn’t. It just seemed so far out of the realm of possibilities for her to have been on the earth as long as you had. You knew half elves aged much slower than humans, but when you looked at Shadowheart, she looked simply radient compared to you.

Shadowheart giggled, her voice clear and melodic. Her smile brought a blush over your face, as if you weren’t already embarrassed enough from your blunt statement.

“Well thank you for that.” Shadowheart teased. Her hand came up to rest against your cheek, her thumb running idly against the snowy white stubble across your jaw.

You froze, not knowing how to handle Shadowheart’s gentle touch nor the the way it made your chest feel as if it were going to explode. Instead, you just continued to look into her eyes, words trapped in your throat.

“I must admit,” She murmured, her voice soft. “You wear your age well.”

As you sat there, lost in her gaze as you tried to take in her words, it felt like the universe was playing some sort of joke on you. How could someone like Shadowheart be holding someone like you so gently? So warmly? So… lovingly?

You knew you weren’t the worst looking man this side of Baldur’s Gate, but you weren’t blind to how time had affected you. How the years deepened your laugh lines and weathered your skin. Shadowheart could have her choice of any lover, but here she sat. Looking at you with those emerald green eyes like you were the only one in the world.

Even if you couldn’t say the things you were thinking to Shadowheart, even if your life depended on it, something in her expression made you think she knew what you were feeling anyways.

As you fell deeper and deeper into her affectionate gaze, selfishly, you wished the moment would never end. That her touch would never leave you.

That the two of you could remain here in the quiet corner of camp, frozen in time forever.

#Karlach #laezel #shadowheart #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #Karlach x reader #Karlach x tav #laezel x reader #laezel x tav #shadowheart x tav

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saintone · 9 months

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So, recently, I received the last book of SVSSS saga, and I instantly jumped to read, once again, Shen Jiu’s story chapter. And, oh boy. I’ve got things to say.

Spoiler’s ahead!!!!

Something I notice about MXTX’s writing is that, in a very subtle manner, their narrator's way of telling the story changes based on whose character's pov it is, so we can guess that the book’s narrator isn’t omniscient, but it’s actually a character’s inner voice. which isn’t anything new, as many users have pointed out that Shen Yuan isn’t a very reliable narrator, and some things of the books that are told from his pov don’t match with reality (the easiest example I can say is when sy and lgh reencounter after the eternal abyss. sy interpret’s lbg’s ‘dark gaze’ as his vengeful desire when actually half of the time he’s just being horny lol).

Something else I’ve noticed repeatedly, and kinda made me uncomfortable is sy’s portrayal of female disciples. Based on his belief that og!sqq preyed on his disciples, sy takes the liberty to make very perverted assertions that stay on the fictional side due to his fear of facing a similar ending as the one of the original goods. quoting some real phrases from the book:

“This was because he had designs on Ning Yingying—ah, no, more like the original Shen Qingqiu had designs on Ning Yingying!” (p. 34, first book).

“One can, however, imagine the result of daring to try to get a taste of the male lead’s woman!” (p. 35).

Or his description of the fight between Liu Mignyan and Sha Hualing:

“Every man dreamed of being caught between an angel and a devil. To watch them jealously vile for each other over him one moment, then risk life and limb for his sake in the next — that was the highest, most sacred, perverted fantasy of every male organism” (p. 112).

These aren’t the words of a neutral, omniscient narrator: these are Shen Yuan’s own thoughts. And he is a very perverted guy: it makes sense, as he was an avid reader of PIDW.

Following the conclusion that the narrator varies on the character’s pov, Shen Jiu’s story takes on a new meaning. Because all of the words in Chapter 24 are Shen Jiu’s own.

The Part 1 of the story starts with Shen Jiu on the streets, until Shiwu goes missing, and Yue Qi goes searching for him, with Sj following. The change to Part 2, which starts directly in the Qi mansions, is kinda abrupt. There are many reasons for something like this.

On one side, we can interpret that the story starts with Sj in the Qi mansions, and he was reflecting on his life to gauge how he ended up there. The sudden jump of events, which leaves us with a gap in information, can be due to trauma, or confusion: Sj isn’t entirely sure of what happened. That’s why this chapter is wholly written as a recount of events, from a man who, perhaps, needed to learn how to write and read to be able to put words to his life and story.

Shen Jiu’s reflections are born from his pain. At the end of Part 2, we get an explanation of how he ended in the Qi mansion:

“Shiwu should have been trampled to death, trampled into minced meat for thousands to spit upon. Qi-ge should have never gone back to save him [...]

As Shen Jiu suffered through day after day of torment, he turned those sweet yet futile thoughts over and over again in his mind, drawing strength and comfort from them” (p. 90, fourth book).

This phrase is very powerful. I think that, as Shen Jiu suffers, he reflects more on his life until now, on the reasons that guided him there, on the actions of those around him, and on the path they should’ve followed.

He wasn’t like that in Part 1. Even as a slave, he doesn't reflect on his pain or suffering because he was pretty much the top game among slave boys, and as Yue Qi says, “the other party would be the one to end up suffering and bawling in terror” (p. 82).

It’s also very meaningful how Part 3 starts:

“Shen Jiu thought a lot about why Yue Qi never returned to look for him” (p. 90).

Yess, right after Sj thinks that Yq should never’ve returned to look for Shiwu. Coincidence? I don’t think so!

Sj says “go back to save him”, but the one who actually saves them both, Shiwu and Yq, is Sj.

The question here is, does Shen jiu regret saving yue qi? Or is he afraid, as we see at the beginning of Part 3, that yue qi learned his lesson, and won’t come back to save a kid that could betray him at the end? Do you think that, after being imprisoned at the water prison, Shen Jiu considers himself a Shiwu too, betraying Yue Qingyuan and guiding the fall of the Cang Qiong Sect?

How do you think it felt for Sj to never get those answers either?

Before going foward, something very meaningful from Part 2 is Qi Jianluo’s reflections around Shen Jiu.

“As long as the boy remained obedient and honest, there would be no issues” (p. 88).

And “Humans must understand and repay kindness. Our family gave you the chance to play human, so even if it means repaying us with your life, that’s just how it should be.” (p. 89).

Who could you remember was obedient and honest? And wasn’t human?

Isn’t it awfully coincidental that the despicable way in which Qi Jianluo viewed Shen Jiu, is exactly what he tries to destroy in Luo Binghe? His honesty and obedience, his human side?

I’m not saying Sj did it intentionally, he clearly hated the boy, as stated in this chapter. But he made him the opposite of the weak, scorned version of himself.

And this is exactly what he says at the end of the chapter:

“Luo Binghe, everything you have today you owe to taking me as your master, so shouldn’t you thank me? Instead, you’re wholly unable to tell what’s good for yourself. As expected, you’re an ungrateful bastard” (p. 116).

Going forward, Part 3! Right off the bat, we have this beautiful phrase that just makes me go aghh:

“Shen Jiu even imagined walking to the ends of the earth looking for Yue Qi’s remains, and how, after finding them, he would dig him a grave with his own two hands. Perhaps he would even do his best to shed a tear” (p 90).

Let me remind you, that this is the only, single mention of crying in the whole chapter. From everything that Shen QingQiu has gone through, he has only thought of crying in the face of Yue Qi’s potential death.

He doesn’t cry when he receives the remains of Xuan Su, though. Because “This was not Yue Qi but Yue Qingyuan (p. 94).

Then, Shen Jiu puts it into words:

“Some people were rotten from birth. Shen Jiu thought of himself in exactly this way — someone vile and poisonous [ejem, like Shiwu, whose presence brought misfortune to his literal savior] from the start. Because, at that instant, he came to a crystal-clear realization:

That he’d rather have met a Yue Qi who’d died in some unknown corner, his remains unsightly and forgotten, than a Yue Qingyuan who was elegant and powerful, his prospects and future boundless” (p. 95).

This is exactly what I said before when I mention that Sj reflection’s starts from his pain, and his pain is born in the Qi household. Before, as a slave boy, Shen Jiu was actually the happiest. And that’s why he’d rather have a dead Yue Qi than an alive Yue Qingyuan: because he was still Shen Jiu, and he would be Shen Jiu until his death.

It’s right then and there, that Shen Jiu decides there’s something inevitably wrong in him, that he’s poisonous, scornful, and hateful.

And that word marks his future in Cang Qiong:

Part 4: “Shen Jiu hated far too many and far too many things” (p. 95).

But then, we get this phrase:

“I may be a hateful thing for most people, but luckily the Qing Jing Peak Lord doesn't despise me” (p. 99)

Is Shen QingQiu hateful, or is he hated?

Also, “thing”. He’s a hateful thing. So he’s still not human.

Changing topics, on page 100, we get to see a new side of Shen Jiu: his reflection on the women of the Red Pavilion. I think it’s very interesting to compare it with Sy’s considerations of women.

“Liking women wasn’t the least shameful, but treating women like saviors, cowering within their embrace and seeking courage from them... even without anyone saying it, Shen Qingqiu knew that was horrendously shameful”

From his wording, I don’t think Sj thinks badly of women: he thinks badly of himself. He considers that a man should be able to protect others, not be protected. The “horrendously shameful” thing is himself, and his pain.

And what’s really meaningful is when he says: “even without anyone saying it”. Because it shows us that many things Shen Jiu knows were taught by others' words. Because he was a slave boy, with no education of the noble, or even human ways (as slaves aren’t considered people), and everything he gathers of life he is constantly learning from others.

So of course he is hateful, and of course, he doesn’t get along with others: he hasn’t learned how to (and how big of a coincidence is it that Shen Yuan, who’s from a wealthy family, is able to get along with his Martial siblings just fine?).

Shen Qingqiu also knows that the only reason he was able to become a Peak Lord, is thanks to Qiu Jianluo’s teachings:

“In the past, Qiu Jianluo had forced Shen Jiu to learn how to read and write. Shen Jiu had been unwilling to learn, had detested it to the point of madness, yet now it was only through his abilities in reading and studying—through being smarter than his peers—that he’d been able to earn the Qing Jing Peak’s lord's favor. To make it even more laughable, of the thousands of possible names in this world, the peak lord had just happened to name him Qingqiu” (p. 101).

Doesn’t this remind you of something? I’m going to write this quote once again:

Just like Luo Binghe, Sj is where he is thanks to his abusive master. But never once does Sj regret his past:

“But no matter how laughable, no matter how it made him gnash his teeth, Shen Qingqiu still wanted that name, for this name represented that from now onward, a shining new life was his” (p. 116).

Notice the change of preposition, from “that” to “this”? That name is the Qiu name, and this name is the QingQiu name.

He is no Shen QingQiu, and no longer Shen Jiu.

“‘That name irritates me whenever I hear it. I’ve long forgotten it. So please, Zhangmen-shixiong, you should also discard it.’

[...] ‘ Then, the day you responder to it would be the day it no longer irritates you?’

[...] ‘ That would never happen’” (p. 101-102).

Shen Wingqiu wholeheartedly accepts his new name.

No matter what happened, we never see Shen QingQiu regretting his actions, neither cursing his fate. He accepts what life gives him, and he accepts his punishments.

“What’s happened has happened! I’ve already ‘considered’ it hundreds and thousands of times! There is no ‘if’, no ‘in the beginning’—, there was never any chance of redemption!” (p. 111).

And you know why that is? Because he already considered it a lot after Shiwu’s betrayal.

Shiwu should have been trampled, Yue Qi shouldn’t have gone to save him (should’ve come to save Shen Jiu). But after that experience, Shen Jiu learns that should’ve and could’ve, and would’s aren’t worth anything, because, at the end of the day, his life never goes the way it should.

And he just accepts it: “Only when I see other people unhappy can I be happy myself” (p. 112).

This quote was very strange to me because it didn’t really match Shen Jiu’s actions. We don’t see him going out of his way to make others unhappy. (Except Luo Binghe lol. He openly admits to trying to murder him).

I think the situation was quite the opposite: It was when Shen Qingqiu was happy, that others were unhappy: when he was in the Warm Red Pavillion, others were unhappy. When he was with his female disciples, others were unhappy. When he succeeded as a disciple and became Peak Lord, others were unhappy. And when he was a slave, living alongside Yue Qi in the streets, he now believes Yue Qingyuan was unhappy too.

Shen QingQiu’s happiness came with the price of others’ happiness, and that’s why he comes to accept that he prefers others’ suffering, he accepts other’s hate.

The first time Shen Qingqiu is in the Linxhi Caves alongside Yue Qingyuan, he notices the crude markings on the walls, and asks him about it. What’s relevant of this scene is that it’s the first time Shen QingQiu is the one starting a conversation.

Before that, we always see Yue Qingyuan looking for Shen Qingqiu, talking to him, interrogating him, and a Shen Qingqiu reluctant to talk. In this scene, the opposite happens: Shen Qingqiu asks, and Yue Qingqiu ignores him.

Here we see, that in those fundamental moments that Shen Qingqiu is the one interested in something, others (Yue Qingyuan) are distant.

Last but not least, I’d like to bring some of the last lines of the chapter to light:

“He had singlehandedly created the Luo Binghe of today, but who had singlehandedly wrought this ending of Shen Qingqiu’s?

Yue Qingyuan shouldn't have met this kind of fate” (p. 117).

THIS

THIS PHRASE

Made me go ughrr oh my god.

First of all, the acceptance: like yeah, I made the devil. It came to bite me in the ass. Okey.

But does he regret that? NO! He regrets being who he is. What he is. He regrets what he became: he regrets being hated, being unhappy, he regrets being mean, not because of what it caused him, but because of the person he became.

Shen Qingqiu never, not even once feels pity for his ending, for being tortured and mutilated. He only regrets being unhappy.

And also, he blames Yue Qingyuan for it.

Because it isn’t a coincidence that after that question, he mentions Yue Qingyuan’s name. First of all is a literary resource. Second, it’s the clear association of the narrator’s mind as he builds a sequence.

He blames Yue Qingyuan for the person he became, and also blames Yue Qingyuan for not being able to avoid the person he became: he denies his cruel destiny.

Yue Qingyuan shouldn't have met this kind of fate.

Because Shen Qingqiu only ever wished for the death of Yue Qi.

This chapter’s narrator is a very sharp, and concise one. He goes from scene to scene, from thought to thought, abandoning fluency and just concentrating on a list of events. This is a reflection of Shen Jiu’s mind: a recollection of traumatic events that brutally shaped him into the man he became.

We see very little emotion, very short pieces of a sentimental being that laze themselves as puzzle pieces trying to make the shape of a deeply traumatized man.

I said it before, and I say it again: SVSSS is a masterpiece, is a book that will become a classic and be analyzed by literary critics in universities (or it should become. we can only hope).

And MXTX is one of the best current fiction writers in the world.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk lol

#svsss #svsss novel #shen jiu #Shen Yuan #shen qingqiu #bingiu #liu qingge #liu mingyan #sha hualing #mxtx #mxtx books #mxtx characters #yue qingyuan #im not crying you are

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severalforraelee · 10 months

Text

Two More Babies: Prove It Short Story

Prompt: Could u do a prove it short story, if maxes reaction to finding out about the other 2 pregnancies??

Written by raelee / Posted July 2

Word count: 1,859

Masterlist

Formula 1 Masterlist

Prove It Masterlist

I lean over the toilet bowl, breakfast escaping me even though I didn't have much of it to begin with. My hands grip the porcelain surface, tears kissing my eyes as I gag.

I know why I’m throwing up. I’ve known for weeks- officially four days. Feeling tired isn’t unusual for me, I’m a mom to a two year old and have a demanding job where I travel a lot. Being bloated isn’t unusual for me, I never truly returned to my pre-pregnancy body.

But the way that the tiredness and bloating felt this time was different. I’ve only felt it once before, and that was when I took that test and realized that I was pregnant with Rowan. So, before the three of us left for the race weekend, I took a pregnancy test, without Daniel by my side this time. In fact, I didn’t have anyone by my side this time.

Max was out on a jog and Rowan was taking a nap with Tala by his side as I folded the laundry with shaky hands, the test flipped upside down so that I didn’t see the results before the timer went off.

I was folding Rowan’s tiny red ‘Leclerc’ shirt as the timer went off and I found out that I’m pregnant with Max and my second child.

And I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with that information since then.

I exit the bathroom in the Ferrari motorhome, finding Rowan playing with his toy trains on the couch where I left him. To my surprise, or maybe not since Charles seeks him out everytime he has a chance, Rowan now has a playmate.

“Mommy’s sick?” Rowan asks as I join the pair.

“I’m feeling better, buddy,” I answer, picking up a green train.

Charles’ eyes burn into me as I avoid his gaze. He can always tell when something’s wrong.

“Are you not feeling okay?” He questions.

“No, it’s-”I stutter. I don’t know what to say, truthfully I was hoping to hide my symptoms well enough that I didn’t have to tell anyone until I told Max and we figured out how we wanted to tell people together. I didn’t expect my son to be the source of gossip in the paddock. That’s Pierre’s job. “I know what it is, okay, Charles?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks slowly.

Tears prick my eyes at his question. Pregnancy hormones are starting early this time.

“So,” I take a deep breath, “I’m pregnant. I don’t know how far along I am or anything, I just took a test the other day and it came back positive.”

“Congratulations?” The way he says it reminds me a lot of how it was last time.

“Yeah, I mean, it was actually kind of planned,” I admit.

“Kind of?”

“We weren’t using protection, so we weren’t preventing it, but we didn’t outright have a conversation on when we’d like to have our next child,” I explain.

“So what’s the problem then?” He inquires, brows furrowed in confusion. I can understand, the way that I’m acting is very contradictory of my words.

“I’m scared,” I let out a watery chuckle, “You know how it went last time, Charles. We were constantly fighting and there was so much drama in and outside of our relationship, I hated bringing Rowan into that environment and with another it’ll be so much harder.”

“It definitely was tough,” he agrees, “But it’s different now, Y/N. For one, you’re married now. And two, you already figured out how to parent with Rowan so you don’t have to go through that entire process again. Max was a douchebag, and he still is at times-”I giggle at that. “But he has always genuinely cared about you and Rowan and would never let that side of him impact your family.”

I nod, wiping the tears.

“Are you worried about his reaction at all?” The Monaco native inquires.

“No,” I confess immediately. “I knew that as soon as he finds out that we’re having another baby, he’s going to be ecstatic.”

“What?” We both whip our heads around to find Max at the entrance to the Ferrari motorhome, blue eyes popping because of how wide they are and lips dropped open in shock.

I rise on shaky legs, not wanting to stand too fast and have the nausea hit again. He takes a step forward. “We’re having another baby?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, we are.”

He strides forward, pulling me into a tight embrace as soon as he reaches me. “I’m so excited, darling. Another baby.”

He pulls back, resting his hands on my biceps as he leans forward, planting kiss after kiss on my lips. “No need to be so disgusting,” Charles fake gags.

“Two of our own babies, Y/N. You’re truly magnificent.” His blue eyes twinkle and the smile on his lips is the one only reserved for Rowan, Tala, and I. And now, this new baby. His family.

“Negative,” I say, avoiding eye contact with those familiar blue eyes. I used to make eye contact with him while saying that word, seeking the comfort and reassurance in them and ignoring the hurt and yearning.

We’ve been trying for our third and final baby for almost a year now- pretty much as soon as I got the clearance to have sex after giving birth to Keagan. But, with no luck.

I can’t help but think that it’s fate’s way of showing the irony of the situation. Rowan was an accidental pregnancy, I got pregnant after having sex with Max twice in one night, Keagan wasn’t quite planned but wasn’t accidental either and I got pregnant about a month into using no protection, but now that we want another baby more than anything, we aren’t falling pregnant.

“Hey,” he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. I continue to avoid his eyes, setting the test on the bathroom counter with a shaky hand. “Look at me.”

His fingers brush my chin, tilting my head up to look into his crystal blue eyes. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We’re in this together.”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“We’re in this together,” I whisper.

He nods, a soft smile on his lips. A soft peck is planted on my lips. “Remember that.”

Weeks go by with me being unable to take another pregnancy test. For three weekends in a row, we have races, and if I’m not busy working, I’m busy having sex with my husband or being a mom to our two boys.

“Why does my godson keep doing that?” Charles questions, watching as Keagan presses his tiny palms into my stomach.

“He is not your godson,” Carlos argues. Who’s Rowan’s godfather was a hot topic- but who’s Keagan’s godfather might be an even bigger one.

“They named him after me,” Charles fights.

“As his middle name. You never use a middle name! And the next one is going to be named after me, so don’t be too full of yourself.”

I roll my eyes at the bickering, picking the brunette baby up and into my arms.

Charles gasps. Carlos and I turn our heads to look at him in suspicion- the last time Charles gasped, it was because he saw a dragonfly the size of a golf ball and he thought that it was too big.

“Y/N, do you think that Keagan keeps pressing on your stomach because you’re pregnant and he knows?”

Charles’ question causes me to freeze and another gasp is heard from behind me. Lando appears beside me before I can even turn around, eyes wide.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Well, I don’t know,” I stutter, “We’ve been trying for another baby but I haven’t taken a test in a while.”

“Y/N,” Carlos’ voice grabs my attention, “I will go get you a pregnancy test on one condition. You name this baby after me.”

“Hey, if that’s what it takes to get a baby named after you, I’ll get you a test,” Lando whines.

I roll my eyes as the bickering starts, shifting Keagan in my arms.

“I’ll race you for it,” Lando teases before immediately running away, the Spainard taking off after him.

Charles smiles smugly at me. “I don’t have to race them, I already have a baby named after me.”

A little while goes by and Max arrives, his hand gripping Rowan’s.

“What’s going on?” He asks skeptically once he sees the looks on mine and Charles’ faces.

“Lando and Carlos ran to the store,” I inform him, “To buy me a pregnancy test.”

“Really?” His eyes glance down at my stomach, taking Keagan from my arms. “You think-””I mean, it makes sense,” I cut him off, “Keagan keeps pressing on my stomach, and babies tend to know these things. And now that I realize it, I haven’t been feeling the best lately. I just thought that it was because I’ve been so busy.”

“No!” A sudden scream catches our attention. We watch as Carlos pushes Lando to the ground, running as fast as he can to reach us first.

“That’s not fair,” Lando hollers, rising to his feet and running in our direction. “I was ahead, you cheated. Y/N, he cheated, you still have to name the baby after me!”

Max gives me a questioning look and I wave him off. “Just some stupid competition that they had.”

“Take the tests right now.” Both Lando and Carlos throw the boxes into my hands, ushering me into a nearby bathroom.

Once I exit after taking the tests, my husband instantly wraps an arm around my waist. Charles bounces around in excitement, Carlos and Lando are huddled up and whispering to each other, Keagan plays with a block in Max’s arms, and Rowan watches everyone rush by around us.

“Okay, we came to an agreement,” Lando informs us.

I raise my eyebrows, deciding to humor him. “What is it?”

“We decided that the baby’s name can be Carlando.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Alex Albon questions, joining our group.

“When Y/N’s pregnancy test comes back positive, the baby's name is going to be Carlando,” Carlos explains.

“I want the baby to be named after me, too,” Alex begs.

“You weren’t part of the competition, mate,” the Brit snaps back, causing Alex to widen his eyes in surprise at the reaction.

“It’s time,” Max announces.

I pull the tests out of my pocket. They’re both positive.

Max pulls me into him, kissing my temple. “I’m so excited, darling.”

After the boys congratulate us, Charles inquires, “What do you think, three boys? Like me and my brothers?”

“No, it’s a girl,” Rowan pipes up. Everyone looks at each other with raised eyebrows at his confidence. “And her middle name is going to be Stavelot after the track that we’re at right now. Not Lanlos or whatever you just said.”

“Carlando,” Carlos corrects the four year old.

“I actually do like that idea,” I confess.

And nine months later, Avery Stavelot Verstappen completed our family.

#formula 1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 x reader #sfrproveit

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